Two days before Dain's ambush.
Azog, massive and robust like a bull, rode his snow-white alpha warg to the area above the valley.
At this moment, the ground beneath his feet trembled faintly, emitting thunderous "rumbling" sounds. These were the noises made by were-worms gnawing through hard underground rock.
"That's it! Make the were-worms stop!" Azog, who could be considered handsome among Orcs, roared in a low voice, giving orders to the Orc beside him.
Though the Orc was filled with confusion, not understanding why Azog wanted the were-worms to stop drilling to the surface, it knew well that voicing such doubts would only bring Azog's furious scolding or possibly being thrown directly to feed the wargs.
So it simply emptied its already dim mind. Whatever Azog commanded, it would do.
After all, were-worms were massive creatures that lived underground, feeding on rock. Even without drilling to the surface, they wouldn't suffocate or starve to death.
Within a few short minutes, the thunderous sounds beneath Azog's feet gradually faded into nothing.
The Orc hurried back to Azog's side, prostrating on the ground and saying tremblingly: "Master, the were-worms have all stopped."
A fierce smile curved Azog's lips: "Good. Continue passing the order. Let the were-worms lurk underground for several days. When they sense thousands passing overhead, then burst violently from the ground."
The Orc nodded, then hesitated before asking with a trembling voice: "Then master, should we also send some of our kin to follow behind the were-worms?"
However, what it received was not Azog's reply but his merciless hand.
Azog used his intact hand to firmly grasp the Orc's skull, lifting it from the snowy ground and holding it directly before his face.
The Orc's murky yellow eyes were filled with panic, but it dared not struggle at all, its feet helplessly suspended in the air.
Azog leaned close and asked gravely: "The reason?"
The Orc was stunned, then racked its brain thinking before replying in that trembling voice: "Be-because were-worms aren't extremely aggressive creatures. They only look large but aren't skilled at fighting. I-I worry that after a brief shock, the Dwarves will quickly react. If…if our army could follow behind the were-worms and charge out together, we could surely defeat and annihilate them before the Dwarf scum have time to react."
This Orc felt it had never spoken such a long passage in its entire life.
Azog released his grip, and the Orc immediately fell, sitting on the ground, burning pain shooting through its buttocks and tailbone.
But it couldn't care about that, quickly crawling up to prostrate again on the snowy ground, pressing its head tightly against the cold earth.
Azog looked at the Orc cowering before him with some appreciation: "Not bad. At least compared to those brainless kinsmen, you're the type that can think a little. However, this wisdom is still far from enough. Get up. Later, you'll independently command an army, coordinating with my son Bolg, who constantly covets my position, to completely occupy Lake-town and blockade Mirkwood. Never let those Elves interfere with our war against the Dwarves."
Only after the Orc stood up tremblingly did Azog explain with the patience of one bestowing charity: "Hmph, you only saw the Dwarf scum coming from the Iron Hills ahead but completely failed to notice the Dwarf scum coming from the other side of the Misty Mountains. Since Iron Hills Dwarves are marching toward the Lonely Mountain, this indicates that pathetic Dwarf king Thrain was not only rescued but also healed. Otherwise, Thorin Oakenshield alone, that pitiful creature, would have no authority to command Ironfoot Dain without obtaining the Lonely Mountain's Arkenstone."
"If we let the western Dwarves unite with the eastern Iron Hills army, this battle would become difficult. So while ambushing the Iron Hills Dwarf scum, we must also make the western Dwarf scum panic. Therefore, Ironfoot Dain's army can be defeated but must not be completely annihilated. We must let some of them have the chance to carry news so that the Dwarf scum rushing from the other side of the Misty Mountains will, driven by anxiety for reinforcement and wrapped in anger, fall into another trap set for them."
Azog stepped forward, spreading his arms wide and laughing wildly toward the sky: "All of this is identical to that war a hundred years ago! Durin's line of Dwarves will die one by one, all at my hands!"
"Master is brilliant!" The Orc immediately offered respectful and heartfelt praise to Azog.
Time reversed to two days later, the moment Dain was attacked.
"Were-worms! Quickly dispatch the war-goat riders! Though these worms are massive, they have little fighting power! Thrust spears fiercely into their bodies! Avoid the mouth area!" After a brief shock, Dain immediately roared loudly.
The messenger unhesitatingly pressed his lips to the ancient horn at his waist and blew hard.
Instantly, sharp and urgent horn sounds cut through the sky, with fierce commands immediately spreading across the entire battlefield.
Hearing the horn, the war-goat riders immediately tensed.
They gripped the reins tightly and yanked hard. The war goats paused briefly, then, understanding their charging mission, let out deep roars.
The riders sat steadily on their war goats' broad backs, leaning forward with blazing eyes fixed on the positions of those several massive but seemingly sluggish were-worms ahead.
As the war goats' powerful limbs kicked forcefully against the ground, they carried their Dwarf riders like arrows from the string, like an unstoppable torrent, launching a fierce charge at the were-worms, stirring up snow and dust.
However, Dain's commands didn't end there.
He knew clearly these were-worms were definitely Azog's carefully prepared "gift" for him.
If this was truly Azog's doing, then the were-worm ambush was merely the prelude to this attack, far from its conclusion.
Therefore, Dain continued commanding loudly: "Right wing, follow the war-goat riders and provide cover! Center wing follows me in attacking from the other side! Left wing, stand ready to provide support at any time!"
Dain didn't order his army to rescue those comrades still struggling in the valley. Not because he was naturally cold-blooded, but because he clearly understood that the urgent priority was first resolving these were-worms and subsequent enemies that might appear. Only thus could there be hope of saving those trapped comrades.
If he had to split forces both to rescue valley comrades and deal with present enemies, in the end not only would the valley comrades remain unsaved, but his own army's lives might also be lost. Truly not worth the cost.
Sharp horn sounds thundered across the battlefield again, those piercing notes instantly penetrating the drifting smoke and flying dust, shooting straight to the clouds.
The right side of the Dwarf heavy infantry formation seemed precisely cut by an invisible giant hand, quickly and neatly separating a 1,500-man army.
These Dwarf soldiers let out deafening war cries, voices like surging waves, one after another.
They marched with orderly, powerful steps, following closely behind the war-goat riders.
Dain personally rode that robust and fierce boar, its strong limbs racing across the snow. He raised his heavy war hammer high while having his adjutant hold the Iron Hills royal banner aloft, the flag fluttering loudly in the charging wind with "whooshing" sounds.
Then Dain's voice echoed like thunder above the battlefield as he shouted: "Sons of Durin, raise your weapons and charge with me! Charge!"