Let's not dwell on Thorin and his company being pursued and their eventual escape beneath the wings of the great eagle summoned by Gandalf.
Instead, let's shift our focus to the unfortunate child, Rynar.
"Damn it, where did all these goblins come from?" Caslow exclaimed, staring in shock at the horde of goblins surging toward them from behind.
Rynar's lips twitched. If his brain wasn't a total mess, he vaguely recalled that Gandalf had taken down a hefty goblin in the goblin town of the Misty Mountains, something about a Goblin King or something...
"Crap! Damned Thorin! You all run off and leave me to deal with the aftermath!" Rynar finally realized that he was essentially taking the brunt of the attack for Thorin's group.
"Fall back, fall back! The wind's picking up!" Rynar shouted hurriedly. It wasn't that he hadn't considered counterattacking; he just thought it was pointless to engage.
Losing would mean a loss of face, and winning would mean heavy casualties for his men—definitely not a good trade.
Thus, a spectacular scene unfolded at the eastern foothills of the Misty Mountains: around four hundred fully armed elite humans were darting through the thickets and woods, while behind them, several thousand spindly-legged goblins wailed as they gave chase.
Both sides were exerting themselves in an impromptu marathon.
"Return fire!" Caslow suddenly yelled.
At the rear, he noticed that a portion of the stronger goblins were almost upon the slowest of the rapid infantry.
Under his command, the knights and Battanian archers quickly turned in their saddles to draw their bows.
The knights unleashed the first volley of arrows, managing to take down a measly dozen goblins.
Rynar could only facepalm at their hit rate.
But the Battanian archers made him proud; with a hundred arrows loosed, the goblin front line seemed to be devoured by some unseen beast, as several goblins fell, most struck in the throat or heart.
"Good job! As expected of knights skilled in archery!" Rynar silently praised, but then thought, damn it! Stupid knights!
He felt ashamed to be dazzled by the Battanian archers' heavy armor. Not his fault! They were just too enticing!
"Lord! The infantry can't keep up!" Caslow shouted suddenly.
"What?" Rynar looked closely and saw that indeed, the rapid infantry were struggling, panting heavily. Seeing them drenched in sweat made Rynar's heart sink.
"We can't keep this up!" he thought grimly.
"Rear ranks to the front! Form up!" Rynar bellowed suddenly.
Reynard widened his eyes, wondering what was happening. Was their lord mad?
Planning to walk into death? Honestly, aside from Caslow riding his dragon, only Reynard might survive if they turned to fight.
But Rynar was not crazy. He knew that it wasn't just the rapid infantry who were losing stamina; the short-legged goblins were exhausted too.
The massive wave of goblins chasing them had already dwindled to a "small stream," and in the distance, small waves of goblins were still madly rushing toward them.
Great! Those foolish kids had become so disorganized in their pursuit that they didn't even maintain formation, scattering into small groups.
"Great tactic of pouring oil on the fire! I love it!" Rynar grinned savagely.
" rapid charge formation! Get in line!" he shouted.
Then… the rapid infantry looked bewildered… Rynar slapped his forehead in exasperation.
The system had only given him 200 men, and the basic formation of the rapid infantry required at least 300!
Rynar knew that a 30-man formation of ten rows was incredibly powerful, capable of toppling a hundred-man knight company. Especially in this world, professional fighters were still quite rare.
"100 men in a row! 2 in a column! Crush them!" Rynar could only give detailed orders.
Hearing the command, the rapid infantry hastily planted their large shields into the ground.
The first row leaned their pikes against the shields, while the second row mirrored them, tilting their shields to leave an arm's length of space, propping their pikes against the shields and drawing their spiked maces.
"Bows cover fire! Reynard, take the knights and find an opportunity to charge them!" Rynar instructed solemnly.
"Understood, my lord!" Reynard replied as he led the knights away.
"We should be on the edge of the Dark Forest now, right?" Rynar asked Caslow.
Caslow took out the detailed map given by Elrond and studied it for a moment. "My lord, we should be on the edge of the Dark Forest."
"Hmm," Rynar replied, satisfied.
"Clang!" Rynar drew his dragon-slaying sword, urging his steed to the front of the formation.
"Soldiers! Brothers! We cannot run anymore! Exhausted, we are mere lambs waiting for slaughter! Therefore, we must fight back with our backs to the water!
I ask you to hold the line with me! Tell the enemy! The glory of Zaltarion Empire has never vanished!
The soldiers of the Empire still fight! Will you stand with me?" Rynar shouted.
"For the glory of the Empire! Long live the Empire!" everyone shouted in unison.
"Charge!"
The five-meter-long pikes thrust forward, skewering about a hundred goblins who charged in.
As more goblins came, the heavy weight of the pikes forced the first row of rapid infantry to abandon their long weapons, grabbing their maces instead, while the second row of infantry flattened their pikes.
"Bang!" A loud explosion rang out as one rapid infantryman swung his mace, cracking open a goblin that had surged forward.
"Rapid fire!" Caslow called out urgently as more goblins began to flank the infantry.
"Fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh!"
The Battanian archers abandoned precision shooting, rapidly unleashing arrows from their quivers.
Before long, one of the 50-arrow quivers was emptied, and the Battanian archers were already grimacing, rubbing their cramping arms.
The results were apparent. 5,000 fine iron arrows?
Just look at the goblins in front still twitching, and it was clear to Rynar that at least a few hundred goblins had met their end in the arrow rain, merging with the earth.
The rapid infantry, swinging their maces, suddenly found their path ahead empty. They noticed that the ground was littered with corpses.
The goblins slain by arrows were the fortunate ones; those that fell before the rapid infantry formed a small mountain of bodies, many punctured with holes or crushed into unrecognizable shapes.
The first row of rapid infantry quickly stepped out from the heap of bodies, retrieving their pikes and forming a line, creating a shield wall.
"Woo-woo!" A deep horn sounded as Reynard led the knights charging down from the horizon. The goblins caught in the middle were thrown into chaos, scattering in all directions.
"Full charge!" Seeing the opportunity, Rynar commanded the entire army to charge.
The rapid infantry raised their shields and charged forward in formation, while the Battanian archers, still mounted, sheathed their long bows and pulled out their secret silver-piercing hammers, each about a meter long...
"Damn it! From now on, if anyone says they're just archers, I'll have words with them!" Rynar muttered, his eye twitching.
...
"Does this count as a battle?" Rynar remarked, feeling a bit cheeky.
"Kind of… After all, there are nearly two thousand goblins lying here… But, can we really call goblins a battle trophy?" Reynard grumbled, trying to flatter Rynar.
"Well, at least count the numbers!" Rynar waved dismissively, acting as if he wasn't listening.
"Let's go! It's time to head to the final battlefield…" Rynar sighed, gazing into the distance. What was destined to come would eventually arrive. He didn't know if this battle's outcome would still be as he knew it…
"Congratulations, host! You have completed an exceptional battle! The casualty ratio is 2457:0. Reward: rapid infantry 100 men."
"System, you're the best! Well done!" Rynar exclaimed, seeing the reward. It was exactly the reinforcements he needed, and he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.
"All troops, listen up! Objective: Lonely Mountain! Move out!" Rynar declared, watching the 100 rapid infantry approaching to provide support, invigorated and ready to go.