On the battlefield at Riverside Keep, the war had decisively ended when Levi returned with thousands of cavalry and slew the Nazgûl. The enemy had no chance of turning the tide.
At sunrise, all remaining orcs had been completely eliminated, leaving only soldiers to clean up the devastated battlefield.
"Hurry, hurry, carry the wounded back!" came urgent commands.
"Administer potions first to the seriously injured."
"Do not give up! That soldier with his waist split in half is still alive! Stabilize him and give him potions!"
"Hold on," a voice urged.
The land after the battle bore deep scars.
Regarding casualties, the defenders of Riverside Keep, along with the reinforcing cavalry, had suffered heavy losses.
Yet, oddly, the defenders had fought with a desperate fierceness, as if their very lives depended on it. When the battle ended, almost everyone was battered and bleeding, their wounds severe.
This chain of fierce fighting caused the defender's bloodshed to be nearly equal to that of the orcs.
"Instructor, I... I..."
At dawn, a soldier collapsed, clutching his wounded waist, blood trickling from his mouth, mingled with tears.
The vivid crimson and clear tears shimmered piercingly in dawn's early light.
"What is happening?"
A Dunedain, half-kneeling, helped support the soldier's head, his face tight with panic.
"Child, keep breathing. Do not move or pull at the wound—I taught you well."
"No, Instructor, I must say it now, or it will be too late."
The soldier clutching the Dunedain's arm fiercely, eyes full of reluctance, lips trembling, spoke slowly and deliberately.
"The healing potion tastes too good."
The Dunedain's face went stiff. Peeling back the soldier's armor, he saw the wound was already healed.
"Get out of here," the Dunedain said sharply.
The soldier was thrown roughly to the ground.
Moments later, perhaps irritated, the Dunedain kicked the soldier in the backside roughly. The soldier yelled and jumped up immediately.
To anger a nearly two-hundred-year-old Dunedain so much showed how much the soldiers had learned from Levi.
Yes, the soldiers at Riverside Keep were gravely wounded.
But injuries were not death.
Though they looked fragile, they were remarkably resilient.
With a swift beat of wings, a great eagle lifted Levi into the air.
He departed on the eagle, soaring swiftly.
Thus, the aftermath of battle was entrusted to the commanders present and a wizard.
"Now that he's gone, we've nothing to worry about here," Gandalf said, pulling Balin's thoughts back to the present.
"Our journey continues—and Bilbo will have plenty more tales waiting for him."
"Indeed."
Balin sat down, his gray beard stained with blood.
It bore both the blood of orcs and his own.
Besides the blood, he suddenly noticed a section of his beard missing—a neat patch on the right side.
"No. No..."
He shook his head in disbelief, wondering when he had lost it.
One of the Nazgûl.
It was the Nazgûl who had misjudged distance fighting dwarves, and narrowly missed cutting his beard.
Balin closed his eyes in pain.
"Do not worry, old friend. It will grow back," Gandalf comforted.
"That's not much of a consolation at this age. The beard grows much slower when you are old, Gandalf."
Balin shook his head.
Gandalf looked at him and shrugged. "Who can say for sure?"
He stroked his own thick, white beard, which looked quite dashing to dwarves.
'At least it is not mine that is missing.'
Glorfindel returned with his Rivendell cavalry.
Levi took a ride on a great eagle and swiftly returned to Roadside Keep.
Upon landing, he entered a Nether gate and headed toward Dale.
With swift precision, soldiers within Dale's walls operated heavy crossbows, raining down fire on the Olog-hai siege forces clad in black steel.
The Olog-hai's armor gleamed like unenchanted diamond, and their colossal frames lent them the strength of living bulwarks.
Even with focused crossbow fire, it was tough to bring down.
Speaking of crossbows, green-lit arrows streaked across the battlefield, and the city was still guarded by hundreds of iron golems—the last line of defense.
They would remind attackers of the pain of despair.
"Report!"
An officer demanded the latest news.
Thorin answered, "They cannot breach us. Our walls hold, and siege weapons are unable to get near."
Suddenly noticing someone behind the ranks, he turned sharply.
"Levi, when did you arrive?" he asked.
"Just now. Heard there's fighting here too."
"Good."
Thorin nodded, accepting Levi's arrival.
The speed of Levi's movement was remarkable, albeit not unbelievable.
"What about the situation elsewhere?"
"Stable," Levi replied. "We are holding. Losses minimal."
Thorin pondered the lopsided battle, some doubt coloring his gaze.
"I find it odd," he said.
Levi watched the battlefield with his usual composure.
"I originally thought the attack was a feint," Levi admitted.
"Wasn't it supposed to be a west feint and east main attack?"
Thorin pressed.
"Ignore such surface details. Focus on the messages between the lines."
"Right," Thorin conceded, falling silent.
"At first," Levi said, "I believed the main push was to the side of Riverside Keep, and this side a probe."
"But after seeing their forces here, I changed my mind."
"What is your conclusion now?"
"I'm not sure," Levi shook his head.
"I cannot predict their intent. Perhaps it's a foolish probe."
"They seem overconfident—not at all like the Sauron I know."
The army attacking Dale was smaller than that facing Riverside Keep.
Most were Uruk-hai, their equipment familiar.
A few were human warriors from the east.
The composition puzzled Levi.
"I also find it perplexing."
"The attack began some time ago, yet we suffer minimal losses while the enemy tires quickly."
"Could it be these two fronts are a feint? The real assault on some other front?"
Levi mentioned newly gained intel.
"The Eagles of the North report no other attacks except from Riverside Keep, Dale, and Lake-town."
"Lake-town, too?"
"Yes, but Lake-town holds, backed by elves and their sailors."
"No others?"
"None reported."
Thorin looked thoughtful.
He admitted, "I thought those elves mostly stayed out."
"You should trust allies more. I trust them as I trust you," Levi assured.
Thorin bowed low.
"Felicitations," Thorin said. "Our relations with the elves have warmed gradually."
He looked toward the banners of Erebor and Dale.
"Let it end here."
Levi drew his sword and approached the gate.
The gates opened.
Outside, the orcs waited eagerly.
But when defenders emerged, their excitement turned to fear.