"River Running..." The group murmured as they burst out of the forest and laid eyes on the wide river before them.
Suddenly, with a loud splash, a knight dismounted and knelt by the riverbank.
Rynar was shocked to see that everyone else followed suit, dropping to their knees. Reynard, with bloodshot eyes, grabbed a handful of soil from the riverbank and clutched it to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.
"River Running! The people of Zaltarion have returned!" Reynard cried, his face drenched with tears.
Everyone around him wept bitterly. In their memories, the empire had fallen, their homes lay in ruins, and the scattered remnants of the Zaltarion Empire roamed the continent like children without a home.
But today... today, they had finally set foot back on the empire's soil.
"For the revival of the empire!" Suddenly, a Rapid Infantryman stood up and shouted.
"For the empire!"
"Long live Zaltarion!"
"For the River Running that birthed and raised me!"
Witnessing this scene, Rynar fell silent.
Though these people were very much alive, Rynar had always felt a sense of detachment from them, as if they were NPCs in a game.
But now, Rynar realized that he had truly integrated into this world. Each of them had flesh and blood; they could be hurt, they could cry, they could die.
Every single one of them was alive—they were his people, his family. And he, he was the last... Lord of Zaltarion!
"Stand up... Let us reclaim the northern jewel of the empire together—Lake-town!" Rynar's gaze sharpened as he spoke.
(Note: Historically, the northernmost city of the Zaltarion Empire was Lake-town.
In the Third Age, Lake-town was destroyed by Smaug, after which its residents, led by King Bard, rebuilt the Kingdom of Dale, leaving Lake-town abandoned. In the mid-Fourth Age, a scouting party from what was then the Zaltarion Kingdom reclaimed and rebuilt Lake-town... and even after the empire's downfall, it remained a stronghold and sanctuary for the northern human population.)
Here, Rynar slyly twisted the facts. Technically, Lake-town didn't belong to Zaltarion at this time, but Rynar, with his shameless authority, decided to occupy it first.
After all, what kind of lord doesn't have territory? Plus, Lake-town still had a thousand human residents, which would serve as the cornerstone for Rynar's growing influence.
"Wait a minute! Smaug's death must be approaching soon..." Rynar broke out in a cold sweat.
Since he now considered Lake-town part of his territory, he couldn't just stand by and let Smaug raze it to the ground.
"Everyone, listen up! March at full speed!" Rynar ordered sharply.
...
At this moment, Thorin had already arrived in Lake-town, lodging at Bard's home, and had paid Bard in dwarven gold to procure weapons for the group.
"What's all this? We paid in gold! We're supposed to be getting weapons! Iron swords and axes!"
The dwarves grumbled loudly as they inspected the makeshift weapons, converted from hammers and fish spears.
Their outburst frightened Bard's son, Bain, and his two daughters.
"Thorin, perhaps we should make do with these. We've fought with worse before…" Balin consoled the group.
...
"Rapid Infantry! Swift as the river!" The Rapid Infantry, in their tight military formation, swiftly broke through a group of orcs, cut them down, and then quickly pressed forward along the River Running.
"Die!" A single arrow from a Battanian archer pierced the eye socket of a wandering orc.
"Move quickly!" Rynar commanded the Rapid Infantry as they advanced.
"Knights! Don't get separated! Disperse the orcs! Disrupt their formations! Leave the rest to the infantry!" Reynard led the way, shouting orders as he charged forward.
"Battanian archers, keep an eye on the orcs that break through our lines! Send them to meet the Dragon God! Don't delay; time is running out!" Caslow, ever the rear guard, urged his troops.
With a single slash, Rynar decapitated an orc as his horse galloped onward.
"My lord! The Mirkwood has been overrun! It's crawling with wandering orcs!" Reynard said, his face full of helplessness.
"Then we'll cut our way through! No one can stop the knights from advancing! No one can stop Zaltarion's revival!" Rynar, wild with fury, slashed relentlessly.
His pristine mithril armor was now drenched in black orc blood, its once-brilliant gold and red shine buried beneath a thick layer of purple-black filth.
The exhausted Rapid Infantry formed a phalanx, bracing their pikes against their shields, ready to smash their way through the enemy.
"These orcs are like cockroaches. We've killed hundreds by now, haven't we?" Caslow gasped for breath.
With the strength of Rynar's forces, a few hundred orcs were nothing, but the constant forced marches had pushed the infantry to their limits.
After several days of rapid marching, even lifting their weapons was an achievement, let alone keeping pace with the cavalry.
It was only thanks to Rynar and Reynard's alternating use of their aura skill—Holy Encouragement—that the Rapid Infantry had managed to keep going.
Holy Encouragement: A special skill for paladins or priests, which casts an aura within a 100-meter radius that boosts the stamina and health of all allies within it. It also increases magical resistance and endurance. Duration: 30 minutes.
"Holy Encouragement!" Rynar rode up to the Rapid Infantry and cast the group-wide aura, once again pushing his troops to the limit.
"Thud, thud, thud!" The previously staggered steps of the Rapid Infantry became steady, their breathing becoming more controlled.
"Come on, everyone! Lake-town is within reach!" Rynar encouraged them.
Before long, a sudden flash of silver light illuminated the group—it was the sun reflecting off the sparkling waters of Lake-town!
"Look! Lake-town!" someone shouted excitedly.
"It's Lake-town! The jewel of the empire's north!"
"The busiest trade hub in the North!"
"We made it!"
The group chattered excitedly, their joy spreading amongst them like wildfire.
"But... how do we get across?" Suddenly, a voice rose above the excitement.
Instantly, the air grew still...
"My lord, I hope you have a way to get us across... To reach Lake-town's land entrance, we'd need to cross the entire lake.
We don't have the strength or time for that, and everyone is at their breaking point," Reynard said gravely, looking at Rynar.
Phew! Luckily, Rynar had a solution from his system rewards. Relieved, Rynar summoned ten Galleons from his magic system ring, and at the sight of the ships, everyone cheered.
(Note: Why weren't Rynar's troops surprised when he suddenly produced ten massive Galleons? The system had already implanted the memory that Rynar possessed a magical item with a huge storage capacity, so they just assumed he'd prepared the ships beforehand.)
"Board the ships!" Rynar ordered grandly.
"Yes!" the soldiers cheered as they leapt into the lake to wash off the blood and grime while making their way to the ships.
With no proper dock, some soldiers had to swim out and get the vessels ready.
"Cut some wood and build a simple dock. Don't forget, we have warhorses too!" Rynar halted their celebration, reminding them of their mounts.
...
"Is everyone aboard?" Rynar glanced around the shore.
"Rest assured, my lord, not a single man left behind!" Caslow pounded his chest in assurance.
"Set sail!"
Under the bright sunlight, a city on the water gradually came into view.
"Lake-town, here we come," Rynar whispered as he gazed ahead.