"Today... perhaps none of us will survive, but history will remember you and me! We have upheld our honor and faith!" Rynar gazed at each of the Zaltarion soldiers.
"Perhaps! The flag of Zaltarion will eventually fall! Perhaps! The Empire will never rise again!
Perhaps! Our names will be forgotten! But today, I ask you to charge with me!
Charge with me into hell! Into death! Into the end of the world!" Rynar roared.
"For the glory of the Empire! Kill!" Rynar raised his Dragon Slayer Sword high, and the crowd erupted into a frenzy.
"Sound the war horn! Let those wretches below know... the Emperor of Zaltarion is here!" Rynar turned slightly to look at Caslow.
"Yes!" Caslow bowed respectfully, pulling out a dragon horn from his coat.
This horn, obtained by Rynar as a reward, could significantly boost the morale of his troops. He had casually tossed it to Caslow after receiving it.
"Vmm~"
Unlike the crisp sound of the elven horns or the high-pitched tone of the dwarven ones, a deep, penetrating bass from the horn echoed across the battlefield, causing Azog on Ravenhill to squint his eyes.
"Boom boom boom!"
Heavy footsteps accompanied the low horn sound, resounding across the battlefield.
In the east, under the shining sun, a blinding light suddenly flared up, and figures appeared on the hill, illuminated by sunlight.
A massive flag with a red background and a golden dragon fluttered in the wind...
"Who are they?" Azog asked in confusion.
"That is... the King of Zaltarion? Rynar?" Bard, standing at a watchtower, recognized the unmistakable banner in the distance.
"Oh! It's Lord Rynar!" Bilbo also recognized the dragon banner.
"There is hope in this battle after all. The mysterious lord has finally arrived with his army..." Gandalf's eyes gleamed with a knowing smile, as if he had foreseen this.
"Rynar! They're alive!" The Dwarves atop Erebor waved excitedly towards the east.
"Who are they?" Thranduil asked, gazing at the unfamiliar flag.
"Ah! Children! The reinforcements are here!" Dain shouted as he gazed at the advancing steel forest.
...
"Here we are..." Reynard suddenly began to hum.
Rynar, riding on horseback, froze for a moment, recalling that the official soundtrack for "The Lord of the Rings" and "The Hobbit" series, "Star Sky," was purchased to serve as Zaltarion's battle song. Since then, this song had accompanied the soldiers of Zaltarion into battle...
"Riding the sky, Painting the night with sun..." The knights beside him slowly joined in.
With the song, the warhorses began to move.
The hooves of their horses matched the rhythm of the song, growing lighter and faster.
Under Rynar and Reynard's lead, one hundred Zaltarion knights charged ahead, surrounded by a sacred halo.
A holy aura enveloped them as both paladins released their sacred auras, covering the entire cavalry..
They also extended their hands, casting holy encouragement upon the Rapid Infantry and Battanian Archers.
As the distance between the knight company and the others widened, the Battanian Archers riding their armored Shire horses came into view.
With their Mithril bows drawn and sharp eyes locked on the battlefield, they flanked the knights.
Then, as the archers veered to the sides, they revealed the Rapid Infantry.
They formed a swift battle array, with thirty men in each row and ten in each column, galloping down the hill, shields raised and spears ready.
Amidst the countless fearful gazes, a dragon's roar reverberated through the sky, even drowning out the stirring war song… the Dragon Knight Caslow had arrived!
"A dragon! A four-legged Dragon?" Thranduil exclaimed as he saw the dragon saddle on the beast's back.
"Roar!"
The Storm Blade, a fierce gust of wind, spewed from the Dragon's mouth. As it touched the ground, the wind blade exploded, leaving a trail of blood and flesh dozens of meters long.
"Kill!"
Amidst a rain of arrows, Rynar led the knight company in a wall-like charge against the Orcs' flank.
The hastily formed Orc defense line was shattered by the lances of the knights. At least two hundred Orc corpses hung from the 102 lances as the knights trampled over them.
Iron hooves trampled freely, as Orcs were reduced to wailing souls under the knights' assault.
Blood, entrails, and flesh splattered the knights' helmets. Through his helm, Rynar gazed out at a world turned red, but the knights pressed on, spurred by their steeds.
Yet the cavalry charged on, driven by their horses' might… even some knights had nearly ten twitching half-orc bodies hanging from their lances, dismissing the heavy weapons to draw their swords, still charging forward…
"Boom!"
With a thunderous sound, Caslow, wielding his Dragon Lance, dove from the sky. His battle energy, compressed into a sharp point on his lance, struck a group of shield-bearing Orcs.
The explosive force of the wind element dragon battle energy shattered the "turtle shell" formation, and the unleashed wind elements tore apart flesh and bone, ripping through iron armor and shields.
"No!"
Azog, atop Ravenhill, roared in fury as he watched the scene unfold. The Dwarves, once on the brink of defeat, rallied with the help of this sudden army, regained their footing and stabilized their position.
In the sky, Caslow continued to dive, raining down wind blades and dragon spears blessed by the Zaltarion people onto the Orcs below.
A cryptic dragon language echoed as the wandering wind elements gathered around Caslow's Dragon...
"Get down! Dragon magic!" Thranduil shouted, recognizing the familiar scene.
Hearing Thranduil's warning, both men and elves scrambled into houses.
In the next moment, the Dragon flapped its wings, unleashing a massive turquoise tornado.
This strange azure tornado was one of the most powerful dragon language spells mastered by Caslow—the Storm Tornado!
Guided by the dragon's will, the tornado swept across the walls of River Running, sucking in countless half-orcs.
The tornado, essentially a blend of rapidly spinning wind blades and stray wind elements, tore the half-orcs to shreds, and when it dissipated, the formerly azure tornado had turned blood red… countless remnants of flesh plummeted from the sky.
By this time, Rynar and the knight company had pierced through the Orc army attacking the Dwarves.
At least a thousand Orcs had fallen under their iron hooves, while the knights had expended less than a quarter of their battle energy.
"Turn around! Charge again!" Rynar shouted as he saw the Orc reinforcements pouring in.
...
"Burn the page for me, I cannot erase the time of sleep, I cannot be loved so set me free, I cannot deliver your love..."
The war song rang out as the Rapid Infantry crashed into the Orc army.
Screams filled the air, as the infantry relentlessly thrust their pikes, each retraction followed by a spray of foul black blood.
Singing their war song, the infantry advanced, stepping over the dying Orcs. They were as swift as the current! They were fearless! They were invincible!
The Battanian Archers, protecting the fragile Lady Aivy, the Holy Priestess, hung back behind the Rapid Infantry.
Their task was simply to fend off the Orcs attacking the flanks, and with their precise archery and rapid-fire skills, they managed to suppress the Orcs on both sides.
The Order of Dawn Knights, having regrouped after their charge, met up with the Rapid Infantry. After slashing down several Orcs, Rynar gave his order.
"Quickly make your way to River Running!" Rynar commanded coldly.
"Yes!"
The army took advantage of the breach created by the knights and, before the Orcs could close in, rushed towards River Running.
Rynar had carefully considered this move.
With the knights' mobility, the Battanian Archers' mounted guerrilla tactics, and the dragon knight holding air superiority, they could quickly stabilize the situation on the Dwarves' side.
After all, the Dwarves lacked ranged firepower, not melee units. But River Running's human and Elven forces were in a different situation.
Rynar had seen the bodies of numerous Elven Rangers.
Once Elven archers were engaged in close combat by the tough-skinned Orcs, it became a disaster... The Rapid Infantry could effectively compensate for the Elves' lack of melee units.
"Boom boom boom~" The sound of thunderous footsteps came from the direction of Ravenhill.
"My lord! Orc reinforcements are here! At least 20,000 strong!"
Caslow, flying overhead, briefly passed by Rynar, delivering this message before pulling his dragon's reins and flying back towards Ravenhill.
"Roar!"
With a furious dragon roar, Caslow and his Dragon clashed with the Gundabad War Bats.
"Brothers! Form ranks! Stop them!" Seeing the tide of Orcs pouring down, the Rapid Infantry changed their course.
They were now determined to hold off the Orc army with their mortal bodies to prevent them from regrouping...
"Boom!"
With a loud crash, a massive stone wall was shattered by the blow of a hammer. The King Under the Mountain had finally broken free from the dragon's curse.
"Kill!" Thorin Oakenshield led the charge, with the other Dwarves following closely behind.
"Hey! Brother, I've been waiting for you! Where have you been?" Dain rushed forward, embracing Thorin joyfully.