"Solidify the formation! The elves are coming to help us!" Lance noticed the elven army coming from behind and quickly spoke to boost morale. Although the well-trained Torrent Infantry could still maintain high morale in desperate situations, the hopeful encouragement could make them a little more fanatical.
"Kill!" The Flood infantrymen wielded their weapons frantically, their tower shields like bricks, smashing and ramming them into various shapes! Blood and flesh covered the shields. Most of the elite Flood infantrymen in the front had lost their lances, countless of which had been broken in the intense fighting. Now they wielded their durable maces with all their might, searching for the orcs' heads. With the sound of cracking melons, orcs were constantly being surrounded, killed, and dismembered by the fanatical Flood infantrymen...
"kill!"
"Ding-dong!"
"Bang!"
On the noisy battlefield, the neatly-lined torrent infantry was like an endless torrent, hitting the orc army again and again.
"After this battle, the Swiftstream Infantry will probably be wiped out..." Roland sighed regretfully. He felt sad for the lives lost under his command... The blue-armored corpses lying on the ground deeply hurt Roland's heart!
Closer and closer, the Holy Knights were less than a kilometer away from the Orc army. The sound of heavy horse hooves could be heard faintly, and countless Orcs looked around in panic as they felt the ground shaking.
"For the glory of knights! In the name of King Lagrande! Charge!" Roland raised the lance in his hand.
Rays of light flashed across the knights' bodies. Glory, mercy... a series of status skills were added to the knights one after another. The knights launched a charge skill with boundless rage!
A Lagrande knight, riding a triple-armored Charr warhorse, crouched low. The fine steel of the Lagrande's standard knightly plate armor gleamed dazzlingly in the snow. The battle aura swirled around the knight's greatshield, held erect in his left hand, bringing a sense of security. In his right hand, the lance, held high, gleamed with a cold light. The six-sided, threaded tip of the lance jutted out a meter-long beam. As the horses' hooves raced, the flames of battle aura from the lance's tip tore at the passing wind. The dragon-emblazoned cloaks on the knights' backs rustled, their blood-red cloaks seeming to foreshadow the approach of death...
"The Knights..." The orc screamed in fear like a frightened woman, the sound of which could shatter armor.
"Boom~" The iron hooves easily overwhelmed the orcs who tried to resist. How could the orcs, who had hastily gathered together under the command of one orc leader after another and formed a thin formation, stop the charge of the formed knights?
Not every type of soldier is called Stream Infantry!
Roland casually threw away the two corpses hanging on the gun. The still warm corpses quickly cooled down. Roland raised his head and looked around as if he was looking for something.
"Knights of Holy Glory, listen up! Turn left! Target the pale orcs! Kill!" Roland's eyes turned red as he looked at the pale orc king riding on a white wolf in the distance who was still trying to stop the coalition forces from resisting stubbornly!
"It's up to you to make up for this loss!" Roland thought viciously.
As long as they killed Azog and obtained the 100 heavy cavalry, this operation would not be a loss, because if the heavy cavalry was properly trained, Roland should be able to add more than ten knights. This is fatally attractive to Roland, who currently has no regular source of knight training. The number of knights in the Holy Glory Knights is too embarrassing, barely reaching the minimum standard. Once more than two knights are unfortunately sacrificed... Roland's biggest trump card, the Holy Glory Knights, will be directly useless, so Roland now urgently needs to increase the number of his knights.
…
"Chase them! Bite them! Don't let them form a formation again!" Iovia shouted.
"Swish, swish, swish!" A hail of arrows attracted Iovia's attention. The perceptive Iovia clearly discovered that they were shot from the elves' bows. At this time, the army of star elves no longer had the strength to shoot again. Looking at the bloody fingers of the rangers and archers, one could tell to what extent they had overdrawn their physical strength.
Maintaining contact with the orcs was the best they could do. Countless elven rangers and elven archers waved their trembling arms, and their exquisite daggers and scimitars flew up and down, taking the lives of the orcs one by one...
Only then did Iovia realize that the shooting elves were actually the grassland elves led by Vanerwe. The agile grassland elf rangers kept shooting bows while running and jumping, saving one elf and human after another who were about to be attacked by the orcs.
"Elf King? Which Elf King are you?" Iovia sensed a familiar presence in Verve. The pressure from the sixth-rank stalker led Iovia to mistake Verve for the Elf King of another elven kingdom. (Elves, while long-lived, are rare among the elite. However, those of mid-ranking professions possess immense combat power. Typically, only the king, priests, and a few elders in an elven kingdom are sixth-rank, a number slightly lower than that of dwarves and far fewer than that of humans.)
"Hello, Your Majesty the King of Star Elfs, I am a grassland elf, not a king. The crown of thorns on my head is just for decoration." Vanerwei knew that Iovia had misunderstood him. Looking at Iovia who was also wearing a crown of thorns, Vanerwei smiled and explained.
"Um... Grassland elves? Sorry!" Eowia apologized quickly, realizing his words had slipped. No one knew the Grassland elves' past better than he did. After the fall of Gondolin, some of these remnants chose to wander the wastes, losing the protection of the magic well.
"It's okay, we're used to it." Vanerwei said calmly, and chopped down a panicked orc who was passing by.
"How did you get here?" Iovia asked curiously. The grassland elves' instinct to seek good fortune and avoid danger was well-known among the elves. Otherwise, these elves with serious power loss would have disappeared in history long ago. How could they live a relatively comfortable life like now, scattered in the wilderness in tribes?
"I just happened to be trapped here by you guys." Vanerwei sighed as he explained while chopping people and dodged the spinning axe.
"I'm sorry..." Iovia instantly understood what was going on. It turned out that the man had wandered here and happened to encounter the war and was forced to stay here.
"You can choose to leave before this battle..." Iovia said.
"I promised King Roland that I would participate in this war, and he will help us build a kingdom for grassland elves to live in." Vanerwei's eyes showed anticipation.
Iovia couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Did this great and noble branch of the elves now even need human help to establish a nation? Bitterness instantly enveloped Iovia. He clearly felt that the era of human dominance in Middle-earth was approaching...
…
"Azog! Die!" Roland roared and led the Holy Knights to rush towards Azog. He had thrown away the lance in his hand, and the sharp dragon-slaying sword was filled with fighting spirit like a dragon.
"In the name of King Lagran! Strike!" Roland roared and lowered the dragon-slaying sword he had raised high.
