The gray, overcast sky hung low like a massive, tattered canvas, blocking out all light and hope. The bitter wind howled like shrieking specters across the wasteland, leaving cold kisses in its wake.
Dain stretched out his rough hands, vigorously rubbing his face that had turned somewhat red from the ice and snow, trying to restore some feeling to his frozen skin.
His breath condensed into white puffs of mist in the cold air, his vigilant gaze occasionally scanning the surroundings.
The ground beneath his feet was covered with thick snow, blindingly white. With each step, the snow made soft "crunch" sounds.
Large chunks of rock were scattered throughout the wasteland, their surfaces covered with frost like gleaming crystalline armor that flickered with cold, hard light under the gloomy sky.
Among these rocks, dead tree stumps stood like broken tombstones. Their trunks had long since withered, the once-sturdy branches now reduced to bare main stems riddled with dry cracks.
"This damned cursed place," Dain muttered under his breath, his voice revealing helplessness and exhaustion.
He turned his head to look at the adjutant who had escaped the encirclement with him, asking: "Any sign of our carrier pigeons?"
The adjutant, dragging his tired and heavy body, silently shook his head, his yellow-brown beard covered with ice and snow.
Dain wasn't in much better condition. His originally magnificent and sturdy armor was now pitted and scarred everywhere, the once-bright paint scraped and worn.
Behind Dain followed the remnants of the Iron Hills Dwarf army.
The remaining hundred-plus agile war-goat riders had long since been sent out, divided into four groups continuously patrolling the area, watching for Orcs that might catch up.
The remaining Dwarf heavy infantry silently seized time to rest, sitting or lying down, trying to let their bodies recover somewhat.
Though they showed no complaints and no obvious dissatisfaction on their faces, Dain knew in his heart that these soldiers' inner mood was like the damned sky above his head, gloomy and low, filled with depression and unease.
However, besides morale problems, Dain knew he would soon face another more pressing reality: the supply problem.
Namely, what these people would eat next.
Dain had been leading his remnants in retreat across the snowfield toward Lake-town for many days, and their carried provisions were nearly exhausted.
Now they were not only physically and mentally exhausted but also faced the threat of starvation.
Dain knew that without quickly finding a solution, the soldiers' strength would rapidly decline, their combat effectiveness would be greatly reduced, and the likelihood of being caught by Orcs would increase.
If they were truly caught by Orcs again, this remnant force probably wouldn't even have a chance to return to Lake-town.
The war-goat riders returned one by one, group by group, but unfortunately, they brought not good news but bad news.
Warg tracks had appeared nearby again. Those Orcs were catching up once more.
The reason Dain and his men had been able to escape from that fierce battle and successfully break out was fundamentally because Orcs' pace and endurance were far inferior to the Dwarves'.
Though Dwarves were short in stature, each was as solid as a small mountain. Their legs were steady, their endurance amazing. They could march for long periods through complex, rugged terrain, while Orcs were far inferior in this regard.
Originally, Dain had thought he'd successfully shaken off the Orcs and escaped their pursuit. But in just one night, the Orcs had used the wargs' keen sense of smell to track them down by scent.
However, Dain soon discovered that the number of Orcs pursuing this time was considerably fewer compared to the ambush. This made him breathe a slight sigh of relief at the time. After paying a light price, the Dwarves successfully dealt heavy damage to this Orc army, then retreated toward Lake-town again.
Yet fate didn't seem inclined to spare them.
Soon, another Orc army happened to catch up just when Dain's forces were resting, leading to another melee.
Though Dain and his men still relied on stubborn will and combat strength to deal with this Orc army, Dain wasn't a fool. He immediately realized this was Azog's open scheme.
Azog was relying on Orcs vastly outnumbering the Dwarves, sending out army after army to pursue them in rotation, not allowing the Dwarves too much rest but keeping them physically and mentally exhausted.
This way, even if the Dwarves could achieve victory in each battle, as time passed, their physical strength and energy would gradually be completely consumed, ultimately falling into desperate straits.
Dain was certain Azog's purpose was to drive him and his soldiers into despair.
However, Dain soon discovered that these Orcs weren't pursuing them toward Mirkwood or the Lonely Mountain but were deliberately driving them toward Lake-town.
Learning this, Dain not only didn't become anxious but was actually delighted.
Because Thorin had already sent word earlier, explaining Lake-town's situation in detail to Dain, letting him know that Azog still didn't realize Lake-town remained under human control.
Thorin had mentioned in his letter that Lake-town's guards had prepared themselves, planning to disguise themselves as Orcs to lure pursuing enemies into prearranged traps. This way, when Azog's Orc armies pursued near Lake-town, they would mistakenly think it was safe, thus lowering their guard and falling right into the traps set by Lake-town's guards.
Throughout these days, Dain had been trying every method to maintain contact with Thorin. All the carrier pigeons he'd brought that could still fly had been released, precisely to not miss any of Thorin's messages while also letting Thorin's side understand his situation in time.
If Dain hadn't already known Lake-town was friendly territory, he definitely wouldn't have willingly let Azog drive him like this. Given Dain's temperament and character, he would have long since turned back to fight the Orcs to the end.
His earlier inquiry to his adjutant was also to learn exactly where reinforcements were now and how long until they reached him.
However, Dain truly had no remaining provisions.
In this frozen environment, without food replenishment, the soldiers' strength and combat effectiveness were continuously declining. If no one came to their aid soon, they would truly starve to death in this icy wasteland. This was Dain's greatest worry and least desired outcome.
But unfortunately, what the war-goat riders saw wasn't reinforcements but Orc warg pursuers.
Just as Dain was about to order his soldiers to end their rest and continue toward Lake-town, a milk-white carrier pigeon fluttered its wings and landed lightly on the adjutant's shoulder armor, cooing.
Without a word, the adjutant quickly removed the bamboo tube tied to the pigeon's leg and solemnly handed it to Dain.
Dain took the tube, opened it, carefully read the note inside, then looked up to the sky and laughed heartily: "Looks like the good days when Orc scum could pursue us so recklessly are over! Pass the word. This is the last retreat toward Lake-town!"
Meanwhile, on another battlefield, Bard was leading Lake-town guards disguised as Orcs coming to their aid.
They wore tattered iron armor and animal hides, not only their faces completely wrapped by black helmets, but even their necks, wrists, and other areas smeared with black paint, deliberately mimicking Orcs' fierce appearance.
From a distance, they were almost indistinguishable from the batch of Orcs Bolg had infiltrated into Lake-town, making it difficult for other Orcs to tell them apart.
Though there were Orc bloodstains on the armor, these stains weren't conspicuous on the tattered iron. Orc armor was inherently filthy, having spent years crawling through battlefields, covered with dust and grime.
Therefore, these bloodstains actually made their disguise more convincing.
Bard had also made careful disguise preparations. His originally handsome features were now covered by an ugly helmet smeared with black paint until his true appearance was unrecognizable, tattered iron armor clanging "clang clang" as he wore it.
He shouted loudly again: "Don't say anything when intercepting the Dwarves! Pretend we're real Orcs!"
The other Lake-town guards who had willingly followed Bard to participate in this operation heard his shout and nodded to show they understood.