"Charge!" Lance thrust his spear forward and surged out, the unique training of the Rapid Infantry granting him unparalleled explosive power.
At Rynar's command, two Rapid Infantry formations shot out like lightning, their ferocity leaving even their own allies stunned.
"Loose arrows!" Elenthor, Thranduil, and Bard issued their commands simultaneously.
The elves, arranged in four ranks, swiftly nocked their arrows, stretching their arms, then releasing. The piercing shrieks of arrows filled the sky!
"Holy Knights and heavy cavalry, follow me! Battanian archers, fire at will!"
Reynard calmly surveyed the battlefield, leading two hundred heavily armored cavalrymen as they flanked around, executing a maneuver he was well known for.
"Raise shields!" Bolg's face turned green as he watched the elf piercing arrows fall like meteors from the sky.
"Thud, thud, thud~" The sound was like rain on banana leaves, mingled with the muffled grunts and cries of the orcs.
The sharp piercing arrows tore through everything beneath them under the pull of gravity.
The orcs' leather and wooden shields crumbled like paper, and only those with iron shields could barely withstand some of the deadly arrows.
"Loose arrows!" The three elven kings commanded in unison. The elves released their tightly held bowstrings, and a new hail of arrows descended!
"Roar!" The enraged orcs helplessly lifted the corpses of their fallen comrades to use as shields.
To be fair, the defensive effectiveness of a orc corpse was indeed stronger than a shield; the body's mass successfully reduced the arrows' speed.
By the time the arrows pierced the corpses, they lacked the power to harm the orcs crouching beneath.
"Pah! Just a bunch of worthless scum!"
Rynar spat as he watched the orcs using their comrades' bodies for defense, thinking it would be better if these inhuman creatures were wiped out.
"All troops, listen up! Fire! Multi-shot arrows!" Rynar raised his Dragon Slayer sword.
Following closely behind, the Battanian archers bent their bows and nocked arrows.
The battle aura coalesced into a fighting arrow on their mithril purple-clad bows, a faint glow of energy swirling around the shafts.
"Swish!"
The multi-shot arrows launched by the Battanian archers transformed mid-air into three arrows, enhanced by the battle aura for immense destructive power, albeit at the cost of some penetration.
The orcs raised the corpses or shields, only to have them shattered into pieces by the raging energy, inflicting heavy casualties on the orc ranks.
"Northwind Arrows!" Elenthor quickly altered her strategy. The piercing arrows had become nearly ineffective against the orcs, who now wielded corpses and makeshift defenses.
Arrows surrounded by wind elements whirled off the bowstring, their tearing and penetrating power easily piercing through the meat shields held by the orcs.
"Heavy Arrow Meteor!" Thranduil commanded, and the woodland elves unleashed their own skill attacks on the orc army.
The arrows sent soaring into the sky were empowered by tenfold gravity, plummeting down with terrifying penetrating power, raining destruction into the orc formations...
...
"King Thorin, King Bard, greetings! Oh! Thank the heavens you are both safe!" Caslow, riding his dragon, arrived first at the walls of Erebor.
Upon seeing the blackened and red-stained walls, drenched in various bloods, he visibly relaxed upon spotting the two kings; he had come to Erebor at Rynar's request.
To protect all factions from annihilation and earn the system rewards, the group of five priests had made tremendous efforts, as the death of a king would lead to the system declaring the faction defeated.
"Eh? Where is King Dain of the Iron Hills?" Caslow's expression changed, noticing that Dain was absent from the crowd.
"My cousin was injured while blocking a fifth-tier orc general and is currently resting in the city," Thorin explained.
"Phew~" Caslow let out a sigh, visibly relieved. "The allied forces have arrived; we need the might of the dwarven army and the forces of the Valley State!"
"We have a duty to fulfill!" Thorin and Bard asserted firmly.
"Balín! Dwalin! Assemble the troops!"
"Fili! Kili! You two stay behind with the injured in Erebor!" Thorin quickly assigned tasks.
"Bard! Can you still take off a orc's head?" Thorin winked at Bard.
"Of course! At your service!" Bard unsheathed his sword and twirled it expertly.
"Then, kings, may the blessings be upon you!" Caslow bowed respectfully and soared toward the orc army on his dragon.
"Boom!" The golden bell once again battered the newly repaired walls of Erebor, with debris cascading down into the outer moat, filling it up... (Moat: Are you polite? This is the second time!)
"Kill!" With battle hammers and axes raised, the dwarves and humans wielding swords and spears surged out from the breach in the walls of Erebor, charging down the mountainside toward the orc camp.
...
"Those damned dwarves have finally come down! They scurry about like pitiful rats in their holes!" The northern orc lord scoffed at the rising dust on the mountain.
"They're counterattacking!" Bolg's expression grew serious. Though they were proud, bloodthirsty, and brutal, they were not mindless!
Even with numerical superiority, being caught between two flanks would spell disaster. The frenzied counterattack of the dwarves was a vivid memory for all races that had fought them!
"What shall we do? Those damned elven archers are so bothersome! Why not retreat to the camp?" the orc lord suggested.
"..." Bolg shot a deep glance at the lord, feeling utterly exhausted. Retreating to the camp only to serve as targets for the elves? Little did they know, entering was easy, but exiting was hard!
"Roar! Counterattack! Tear apart the elves and humans before us! Everyone out of the camp to face the elves! As long as we slay them all, the North will be ours!" Bolg roared.
"Aren't we going to deal with the dwarves?" The orc lord asked, puzzled.
Although the counterattacking forces of dwarves and humans from Erebor numbered fewer than two thousand, the devastation caused by abandoning the camp for a direct dwarven invasion was daunting.
"Eliminate those elves buzzing like flies first; the dwarves and humans are not to be feared!" Bolg licked his lips, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes.
"Kill! Wipe them out! The age of the orcs is about to arrive! We will ultimately rule the North! We will rule Middle-earth!
All resisting forces will turn to dust beneath our blades!" Bolg raised his arms, his words invigorating the orcs, driving them into a frenzy as they charged toward the approaching allied forces!
"What's gotten into the orcs? Have they lost their minds?" Rynar furrowed his brow, sensing the orcs' heightened morale and feeling a sense of foreboding.
"Kill!" The Rapid Infantry clashed first with the orc vanguard!
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