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Chapter 20: Battle of Five Armies(1)

Everything was just as it had been in the original history. The elves, led by Thranduil, were about to fight the dwarves of the Iron Hills...

"Boom!" The foot of the mountain in the distance shook, and several ferocious mouthparts emerged from the ground.

"They have forgotten the existence of the giant earth snake." Azog said with a ferocious look on his face.

A black mass of orcs rushed out from underground. They ran at high speed, holding their arm shields in front of them and holding their weapons tightly in the other hands, howling as they rushed towards the elves, dwarves and humans.

"The devil is coming to attack us!" Ironfoot Dain roared and pulled the reins to turn his mount, the wild boar.

"Fight! Fight! Sons of Durin!" Dain roared.

The dwarves who were originally preparing to fight to the death with the elves turned around and ran wildly with their short legs. With the sound of shields colliding, a wide shield wall blocked the way of the orcs. Roland was wrong about this. There were a total of 1,500 dwarves, of which more than 500 were professionals, which was definitely the elite dwarves.

"Elves...why don't you fight?" Bilber looked at the indifferent elves and looked up at Gandalf.

"Thrandul! You can't do this!" Gandalf shouted at Thranduil.

Thranduil hesitated and looked back at the array of dwarves...

"Hurry up! We have to get to the battlefield!" Roland said solemnly. He needed to look at the specific situation before deciding whether to jump into this tiankeng. Although he was not a particularly qualified lord, he was definitely a man with conscience. He knew how to sympathize with his subordinates and there was no need to make fearless sacrifices for a battle that could not be won.

"We need to go around to the left side of the battlefield!" Roland commanded everyone. After all, they couldn't appear directly behind the Orc army. If the Orcs attacked them in return, Roland would probably have to run away. Right now, Roland was like walking on a tightrope over a bottomless abyss. One wrong step could lead to eternal damnation. Having a system didn't mean having the capital to squander! Without a complete logistics system and reserve troops, Roland was like a rootless duckweed. Any failure would be a disaster...

As for why he went around to the left, as I just said, with Roland's current strength, backstab is of no use except for giving away heads. On the right side, there is not only Raven Ridge where Azog is commanding, but also the possibility of facing Orc reinforcements from Gunbada Fortress who may join the battlefield at any time. If he really ran over there, it would be a lot of fun... Just imagine being sandwiched between at least 20,000 Orcs... Even a dragon knight can kill you. You have to know that there are professionals among the Orcs. Their powerful warriors and shamans who are good at curses are big problems facing Roland.

"Ah, ho, ho!" the orcs roared and charged into the dwarfs' shield wall.

Suddenly, the orcs in the front row squinted their eyes because of the sunlight. It wasn't the sunlight... it was the sword light of the elven rangers.

Ranger professional level division: Apprentice Ranger, Ranger, Intermediate Ranger, Senior Ranger, Eagle-Eye Ranger and the highest title Hunter.

It had to be said that Thranduil had made a significant investment this time. Nearly a thousand ranger elves were thrown out by him. The elven rangers' scimitars swung in the air, imbued with various battle auras, slicing through the orcs' armor, muscles, blood vessels, and bones like a hot knife through butter...

The orcs were stunned by the sudden attack. They waved their weapons wildly to block it, and vine whips appeared from the void.

"Snap! Snap! Snap!" After the crisp crack of the whip, all the surrounding orcs were beaten to a bloody mess, and some even had their heads torn off by the whip. This was the skill activated by several high-level rangers - Whip the Jungle: Summons a clump of vines to continuously whip the enemy.

"Kill! For the glory of Turin!" The dwarves who received support no longer hid behind their shields. They put away their shields, raised their weapons and charged straight towards the oncoming orcs.

"Heavy slash!" The dwarfs' warrior profession activated their skills. The sharp dwarf battle axe, wrapped in fighting spirit, swung from top to bottom. The surging fighting spirit blade chopped down a group of orcs on their heads.

"Shoot!" The elf archers lined up at the back drew their bows and arrows, and a total of 3,000 elf archers indiscriminately released sharp arrows blessed with various skills.

“Roar!”

“Ouch!”

"Hao!"

A wave of arrows successfully blocked the Orc army. Their reinforcements were blocked by the rain of arrows, and the dense rain of arrows left large gaps in their army formation.

"Oh my god! Has it really become a mess?" Roland and his group lay on the top of the mountain in a very ungraceful manner, pointing at the raging battlefield below.

"Sir, are we really going to join the war like this?" Renault asked in a gloomy tone. He felt that Roland might want to lead everyone to hell.

"Don't forget, we haven't received our commission yet. All our starting capital is in this mountain..." Roland glanced at Iluber who was still in seclusion, and his heart couldn't help but be excited about the mountains of treasure in the city.

"Let's take a look at the situation first." Roland didn't rush to draw conclusions but instead carefully observed the battlefield.

"There are at least 4,000 elves! There should be about 1,000 dwarves, and the 200 soldiers in Lake Town plus some recruited men should make up 500 people!" Roland murmured. This is much more than the number of people in history. Moreover, because of Roland, the people of Lake Town escaped the fate of being roasted by Smaug, so the sudden increase in the number of human soldiers is understandable.

"But there are at least 15,000 orcs..." Kaslo said weakly after calculating for a while.

"Alas, and that doesn't even include the Orc reinforcements from Gangbada Fortress..." Roland sighed. If it weren't for the dreaded exchange of small amounts of money for wealth, Roland truly wouldn't want to wade into this mess. He had long since passed the time of high-spirited confidence and commanding power he had just experienced when he first crossed over. This was the real world! Every decision he made might cost the lives of his subordinates, or even himself. This wasn't a game!

"They can't fight on two fronts! Attack the Valley State!" Azog saw the flaw of the coalition forces at a glance, and standing on Raven Ridge, he used this open strategy of attacking the enemy and then rescuing them.

Humans would return to support Dale City to protect the elderly and the weak, and the dwarves would not retreat a single step to protect Erebor, but the number of elven troops could only allow them to participate in one battlefield, and they would inevitably make a choice. Obviously, the elves would not fight side by side with the dwarves. In this way, Azog easily completed his plan to divide the battlefield.

"Retreat! Dale!" Bard's eyes were glaring as he watched the orcs turn around and rush towards Dale.

"Retreat to Dale!" Seeing the coalition forces being continuously crushed by the orcs, Thranduil issued the order to retreat. Under the cover of the elven archers' alternating fire, the elves and humans quickly retreated to Dale City...

In front of the gate of Erebor were only the dwarves fighting, their living space being continuously compressed.

"Thorin! Where is he? We need him?" Dain anxiously searched for his cousin on the battlefield.

"Ah!" A big knife stabbed and pierced into the heart of Dain's mount. Dain Ironfoot was thrown to the ground.

"Swish!" Dain got up from the ground, grabbed the spear that was stabbing at him, and thrust it into the heart of the orc who attacked him from behind. He swung the warhammer in his hand a few times and smashed the head of the orc who passed by him.

"Roar!" The tall ogre swung his battle axe and chopped it down in a circle. A dwarf berserker was unable to dodge and was instantly split in half.

"Swish, swish, swish!" A sharp sound of metal friction rang out, and a dwarf warrior was stabbed by several weapons at the same time in the gaps between his armor. He swung his battle axe weakly and fell to the ground...

"Thorin! Thorin—" Watching his people die tragically, Dain frantically shouted Thorin Oakenshield's name on the battlefield. Unfortunately, Thorin had already fallen into the curse of the dragon's gold...

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