Hearing Thorin's words, Tarnes said with surprise: "Did Bard really decide this? And do all of Lake-town's residents agree with Bard's determinationand are willing to fight for him? You must know that what we're about to face isn't just Orcs, but also that dragon in the Lonely Mountain."
Thorin showed a smile and nodded: "Yes, not just you. Even I was surprised. But Bard said that as descendants of Dale's residents, they had already fled to Lake-town. Having finally built this town with great difficulty, if they continued fleeing, where could they go? So Bard decided to fight alongside us. After hearing Bard's speech, the people of Lake-town, at least at that moment, strongly supported him."
Tarnes raised an eyebrow: "So you don't actually think highly of Lake-town's people?"
Thorin's smile faded as he sighed: "Of course, because many of these humans aren't qualified warriors. It's already quite good that Bard and his people can muster 800 soldiers with combat capability."
Then he shrugged: "But having an ally is better than having none. Perhaps Lake-town's people will help us at an unexpected moment."
Tarnes thought for a moment and said: "My army will arrive within a month. What about you Dwarves?"
Thorin replied: "During the day when you and Gandalf were absent, I received a carrier pigeon message from the Iron Hills. Dain said he would soon arrive leading 5,000 fully armed Dwarf heavy infantry to Lake-town, plus 20 war chariots and 300 war-goat riders. What about your side?"
He paused, then said with some anticipation: "Though I think you, Miss Millicent, and Master Bernahl are equivalent to a thousand troops, if it's your army, I believe our chances of victory against the Orcs would be even greater."
Tarnes smiled and lightly patted Thorin's shoulder: "Rest assured, Thorin. The help I'm bringing is meant to help you retake the Lonely Mountain from the Orcs as well."
Then Tarnes' tone became serious as he said to Thorin: "But there's one thing I must tell you in advance: if the war drags into a prolonged battle, I will consider withdrawing my forces depending on the situation."
Thorin took a deep breath and replied sincerely: "Of course, I understand your decision. Rather, the fact that you're telling me this in advance already makes you far better than those human kings."
Then Thorin went to the inn corridor's window, pushing the wooden shutter open a palm's width. Night wind carrying blade-like cold immediately rushed indoors.
He instinctively raised his face, letting the bitter wind scrape across his nose like a rough snow wolf's tongue, feeling that bone-piercing cold.
Then Thorin closed the window and turned to Tarnes: "Now we only need to wait for the Dwarf coalition led by my father to cross the Misty Mountains, then we can launch an attack on the Lonely Mountain and reclaim our homeland."
Tarnes also offered his blessing: "I hope so."
But unfortunately, things didn't go as hoped.
A week later, ravens swept across Lake-town's lead-gray sky. The seventh dawn brought no anticipated horns from the Iron Hills.
When that disheveled-feathered carrier pigeon with dark brown bloodstains on its chest tumbled into Thorin's palm like a broken puppet, the pine branches burning in the fireplace suddenly crackled loudly.
Because what should have been a pure white messenger now looked like tattered banner scraps pulled from a blood pool.
"It's Dain's carrier pigeon..."
Thorin's throat rolled as he squeezed out broken syllables, something cold crawling up his spine.
All the Dwarves in the room noticed the pigeon's abnormal state. After Thorin removed the message tied to the pigeon's leg, Ori carefully cradled the bird to tend to this dutiful messenger.
White-haired Balin no longer wore his kindly smile but approached Thorin with a somewhat anxious expression, looking together at the letter also bearing dark red bloodstains.
Dwalin also silently stepped over. Only when Thorin's slightly trembling hands lifted his gaze from the letter did this reliable Dwarf warrior ask: "What does the letter say?"
The other Dwarves in the room all pricked up their ears. Thorin was silent for a moment, handed the letter to Balin, and then, without a word, rushed out of the guest room door and out of the inn's main entrance, running toward the mayor's house, where Tarnes and Gandalf were now staying.
After reading the letter's contents, Balin collapsed directly to the floor.
Dwalin anxiously asked his elder brother: "Balin, what exactly does the letter say? Tell us quickly!"
Balin's face was pale, a bitter smile tugging at his lips that looked more like crying: "Dain and his forces were ambushed by Azog's Orc army on their way to Lake-town, suffering heavy losses. Currently Dain is leading the survivors in retreat toward Lake-town, hoping we can send reinforcements."
Three days earlier, between the Iron Hills and Lake-town, outside a certain mountain pass.
In a rugged mountainous area, the not-very-wide mountain road was flanked by ice and snow-covered rocky slopes.
Ironfoot Dain, leader of the Iron Hills, sat atop a sturdy, docile boar, wearing specially made Iron Hills Dwarf plate armor with flame and goat totems chiseled on the surface and red copper rivets embedded at the joints.
He had a weathered, carved-looking face with a thick reddish-brown beard cascading to his waist like a waterfall, braided and bound with mithril rings.
Though Dain appeared outwardly savage, cunning and strategy lurked in his brow. Anyone who underestimated his wisdom by thinking him merely a rough Dwarf would suffer greatly.
Because Ironfoot Dain was not only a fierce general who charged into battle but also a ruler well-versed in political maneuvering.
Behind Ironfoot Dain stretched the great Dwarf army from the Iron Hills.
Five thousand fully armed Dwarf heavy infantry formed a moving steel fortress. They were stocky and muscular, wearing thick plate armor with broad face guards covering most of their faces, revealing only fearless eyes.
More importantly, these Dwarf heavy infantry didn't move slowly. They were actually quite swift, as if wearing light leather garments instead of metal armor.
Within the heavy infantry formation, 20 Dwarf war chariots loomed like steel beasts.
These chariots were built from sturdy oak, their bodies wrapped in thick iron plating, with massive, robust wheels that made thunderous sounds crushing the ground, making even the earth tremble.
The chariots were equipped with enormous ballistas, their bolts thick as a child's arm with sharp heads capable of piercing enemy lines at a hundred paces.
On the army's flanks, 300 war-goat riders surged like a torrential flood.
The war goats were robust with thick fur, their horns sharp as blades gleaming with metallic luster. The Dwarf riders on these war goats wore the same heavy plate armor as the infantry, yet the war goats showed no concern for such heavy burdens, treating the rugged mountain paths like level ground.
"At this pace, ha ha, we'll meet Thorin and the others in another week!" Dain laughed heartily, speaking to his Dwarf adjutant.
The boar he rode seemed to sense its master's joy, grunting as if echoing Dain's optimism.
The adjutant nodded, then squinted toward the snow-white mountain pass in the distance, respectfully suggesting to Dain: "Lord Dain, in my opinion, it's necessary to send scouts to explore both sides of this pass."
Dain showed no intention of refusal, instead laughing even louder: "Ha ha, you're right. It should be so. I received Thorin's letter mentioning that commanding those Orc scum is that Azog, who should have gone to hell long ago. This Orc differs from others of his kind. He's extremely skilled at warfare. Now that we've approached the Lonely Mountain's range, we indeed need extra caution."
Speaking thus, Dain also gazed toward the distant snow-covered valley, saying gravely: "Pass the order. Halt the army. Don't just send one or two scouts. Have all war-goat riders search both sides of the valley thoroughly. Kill any Orcs on sight. Leave none alive!"
The moment the adjutant heard the command, his body immediately straightened, performing a crisp Dwarf military salute.
Then the adjutant turned, targeting a nearby messenger, his voice loud and urgent: "Messenger! Sound the horn. Halt the entire army! Then immediately relay orders to the war-goat riders! All personnel carefully search both sides of the valley pass slopes. Kill any Orcs on sight. Leave none alive!"
Hearing the command, this Dwarf messenger's body also reflexively tensed, straightening his chest as he responded loudly: "Yes sir!"
Without delay, he took the horn from his waist.
Then he placed the horn to his lips, took a deep breath, and blew with force.
Immediately, deep and heavy horn sounds echoed throughout the entire army, penetrating the air and reaching every corner.
Hearing the horn, Dwarf soldiers obeyed orders with uniform movements, immediately halting their march.
As the horn's tone began changing from deep and heavy to urgent and high-pitched, as if urging the war-goat riders to quicken their actions.
Hearing this changed horn sound, the war-goat riders immediately understood the new orders.
They began readjusting formation, leaning slightly forward.
As the horn continued urging, the war-goat riders began charging, moving faster and faster.
On both sides of the valley pass, thick snow covered the rocky slopes, sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight.
The war-goat riders charged toward these slopes like arrows from the string, rushing toward the snow-covered rocky slopes flanking the valley pass ahead. The war goats' hooves left deep impressions in the snow, each step splashing snow like white fireworks dancing in the air.
If Orcs were truly lurking on these slopes, they would certainly be crushed to pieces by the war-goat riders.
However, even after the war-goat riders returned from the valley's far end, they still found no trace of Orcs.
In this icy valley, let alone Orcs, even animal tracks were difficult to find.
After hearing the war-goat riders' report, Dain nodded slightly and said gravely: "Continue forward."
"Yes, sir! All forces, continue the advance!" the Dwarf adjutant shouted, and the messenger beside him immediately sounded the horn.
The great Dwarf army from the Iron Hills resumed their march, thousands of soldiers' footsteps converging to make the earth tremble slightly.
Dwarf heavy infantry in thick armor strode forward with determined steps.
Behind them, thirty Dwarf war chariots slowly followed.
As for the war-goat riders, they displayed the same amazing mobility and adaptability as when searching the slopes, running quickly and steadily over rugged snow-covered rocks as if on level ground.
Dain entered the pass and looked up at the snow slopes on both sides, trampled into chaos by the war-goat riders, involuntarily frowning.
The adjutant noticed Dain's strange expression and asked with concern: "Lord Dain, has something happened?"
Dain shook his head, the tension in his brow easing slightly: "Perhaps I'm overthinking. The war-goat riders found no Orc traces, meaning the valley is temporarily safe... However, still remind the soldiers to stay alert and ready for battle. Every step ahead might lead us into Azog's trap."
The adjutant nodded and whispered to the messenger.
The messenger immediately sounded the horn. Upon hearing it, the Dwarf soldiers quickly removed their tower shields from their backs, hung them on their arms, and gripped steel spears with their other hands.
Thus, if they truly encountered Orc ambush, the Dwarves could quickly react and launch effective counterattacks.
Until nearly exiting the valley, Dain and his army encountered no abnormalities, finally allowing the constantly tense Dain to relax slightly.
Then he looked toward the flat snowfield ahead and loudly ordered: "All forces attention. Maintain vigilant advance! When the sun sets low and is about to fall, we'll choose ground to make camp and rest!"
"Hur-ha!"
The Dwarf soldiers responded with powerful voices, their unified and loud shouts making the earth tremble violently.
Dain smiled, but when the Dwarves' shouts gradually faded, the earth's trembling didn't subside. Instead it grew more violent, causing Dain's smile to instantly vanish as his expression darkened.
He felt the ground beneath his feet shaking violently like an earthquake, while something made thunderous sounds and was rapidly approaching his army.
"Run! Those still in the valley, leave immediately!"
Dain immediately roared. The Dwarf soldiers still in the valley quickly obeyed their king's command, abandoning formation to run toward the valley exit at top speed.
While the Dwarf infantry could run swiftly, those originally pushing war chariots couldn't make the chariots accelerate.
However, though Dwarf infantry could run quickly, those responsible for the war chariots couldn't make them speed up either.
Not because these steel beasts were slow. They were actually pulled by war goats and moved no slower than war-goat riders.
But the path ahead was crowded with soldiers who hadn't yet escaped the valley, so the chariot drivers naturally couldn't crush their comrades' bodies.
"ROAR!"
"CRASH!"
The ground's rocks were thrust up by some massive creatures. These terrifying worm-like beings weren't alone. Rocks were crushed to powder in their mouths.
Their appearance also triggered the valley's collapse. The Dwarves still in the valley could only watch in despair as massive rocks fell upon them. All thirty war chariots were buried in the valley without exception.
Dain angrily and shockingly spoke the name of the creatures attacking them:
"Were-worms..."