"People of the Stars, darkness has once again descended upon us, and the people of Singrey have nowhere left to retreat!
I urge you to take up your weapons once more and follow me along the path not yet completed by our last king!"
Elenthor spoke solemnly as he looked at the gathered Singrey elves before him.
"We shall march!" Elenthor roared as he mounted his unicorn, unleashing the pent-up fury of the star elves, their grievances reignited after three millennia.
"What!" Rynar glanced over, thinking how the hell he was now sitting on a unicorn.
Though they were auxiliary beasts, their buffs were no joke.
"Your Majesty, don't be envious; unicorns can't even match griffins in combat," Reynard consoled him, overhearing Rynar's muttering.
"Who cares about that? Just look at how beautiful and prestigious they are!" Rynar exclaimed, drooling with envy.
...
"Ah!"
On the wooden walls of Loshanier, a few bored sentries leaned against the battlements, observing the dark forest in the distance, stretching lazily as if they were about to turn into birds themselves.
"Th-th-there…" Suddenly, one of the sentries stuttered as he caught sight of movement in the dark forest.
"Holy crap!" Seeing the swaying treetops and the startled birds, the sentries rushed to ring the alarm bell.
The commotion clearly indicated a large army on the move, and the only ones marching from the southern dark forest could only be the orcs of Dol Guldur.
"Quickly, get to the walls! Have the civilians working outside come back!
Be ready to close the gates at any moment!" Aranthor, hearing the alarm, burst out of the sentry post, commanding the panicking crowd.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
The sound of heavy armor clashing filled the air as soldiers clad in dwarven-made armor quickly gathered their weapons and ascended the walls.
"You twenty-five go guard the northern wall, you twenty-five the eastern wall. Adalric!
Take a hundred men to defend the southern wall; the rest of you, join me at the western wall to face them!" King Aranthor raised his weapon high.
The city of Loshanier was engulfed in the fear of impending war.
...
"Ugh! This deer is so hard to ride!" Rynar grimaced, struggling to control the moon deer beneath him.
In contrast, Reynard rode smoothly, making it seem as though he had ridden moon deer his entire life.
"So, how is it, King Rynar? Don't the elves' moon deer have their own charm?" Elenthor teased, observing Rynar's shaky riding skills.
"By the way, if elves don't have knights, why do they keep mounts?" Rynar wondered aloud.
After all, knights were the only profession exclusively passed down among humans; other races had no concept of knights (the orc wolf riders weren't knights; they were simply warriors riding wolves).
"To provide transport for the rangers, of course," Elenthor replied matter-of-factly.
"How extravagant!" Rynar marveled. Humans had knights riding mounts, while elves had cavalry—wasn't that a waste of resources?
"Holy crap! An elven army?" Aranthor was taken aback as he recognized the forces emerging from the forest.
"Where did these elves in sky-blue armor come from?" Aranthor pondered, confused, as he couldn't recall any elves wearing sky-blue armor.
"King Rynar?" Aranthor spotted Rynar's unmistakable figure in the crowd; it was hard not to recognize someone constantly in the same attire.
...
"King Aranthor! What are you doing?" Rynar asked, noticing the soldiers on the four-meter-high wooden walls aiming their bows at them.
"Uh… I forgot; lower your arrows," Aranthor waved his hand, commanding the soldiers to lower their bows, and then descended the wall to welcome them.
"Who are these…?" Aranthor looked at Elenthor and the others in confusion.
"These are the star elves hidden in the dark forest; they are the last reinforcements I could gather.
Oh! By the way, this is King Elenthor of Singrey, and this is Elandor, the star dragon knight," Rynar introduced.
"Greetings, I am King Aranthor of Loshanier; welcome to Loshanier and the Kingdom of Aquavia!" Aranthor extended his hand in invitation to the group.
"Thank you for your hospitality, King Aranthor," the elves nodded in salute.
...
"So, does that mean there are no reinforcements?" During the banquet, Aranthor pulled Rynar aside to whisper; it was inappropriate to discuss this in front of the elves.
"Exactly. If we're lucky, the dwarves of Iron Hills might come to help us, but I fear…" Rynar hesitated.
Aranthor fell silent; the star elves had often clashed with the dwarves in the past.
What if the two sides started fighting again? He shuddered at the thought of that "beautiful and harmonious" scene.
"We are fortunate; the elves have brought us the ranged units we desperately need. At least we won't have to rely on our soldiers to hurl stones at the orcs!" Rynar breathed a sigh of relief.
In truth, there were very few soldiers under Rynar's command who could competently use a bow.
His forces included 100 Zaltarion Knights, 100 Battanian archers, 100 Zaltarion city guards, 100 Dunwenian Swordsmen, 500 conscripted Light Infantry, and 10 Elaris Woods rangers, along with the priest Aivy, war mage Radir, dragon knight Caslow, and paladin commander Reynard.
Of these, only 810 soldiers could attack from a distance, but only the 100 Battanian archers could effectively shoot at the enemy.
The rest either had questionable accuracy or could hardly shoot more than a few arrows…
Aranthor's forces were similarly insufficient.
He had just expanded his army to include 500 elite infantry and 200 cavalry, plus 47 knights and over 150 hunters, which were the best soldiers that nearly 7,000 inhabitants of Loshanier could muster (some northern humans had also migrated, increasing their numbers).
"I just expanded the army; the dwarves sent me arms and armor, hoping we could hold off the southern enemy while they faced the northern orc army," Aranthor explained his situation to Rynar.
"Yeah, they simply can't handle fighting on two fronts…" Rynar sighed.
"King Aranthor, with all due respect, the walls here seem quite useless… they're too low, and the wooden and stone construction is only used for key support.
Such walls wouldn't hold up against orcs," Elenthor suddenly remarked.
He had carefully inspected the walls and clearly saw that this city, about to face a decisive battle, was ill-prepared.
"They just migrated down from the north and formed a new kingdom," Rynar scratched his nose awkwardly.
"It seems we'll need to stay here to help you repair the walls," Elandor sighed.
Originally, the elves had planned to station themselves between Loshanier and Erebor for quick support, but now it seemed… Loshanier's defenses were a major issue!
"King Rynar, is there a problem with your city?" Elenthor asked suddenly.
"Pfft!" Rynar, who had just taken a sip of wine, sprayed it out.
"Uh, to be honest, I think the defenses of Riverguard aren't that important; after all, orcs won't cross the River Running to attack there, right?" Rynar scratched his head.
"Stars above… don't tell me the defenses of Riverguard are as poor as those of this city?" Elenthor's eyes widened.
"Actually… they're even worse…" Rynar shrank back like a quail.
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