Chapter 71: Stalemate

"Bolg has failed? Why are the elves here?!" Azog's eyes widened. The sudden appearance of a city was shocking enough, but now the defenders inside were elves! 

This was beyond ridiculous—utterly absurd! God knows how difficult it is to capture a city defended by elven archers and rangers.

"Raise your shields! Form a line! Don't panic!" Azog angrily swung his dark red war hammer, his fury directed at the orcs in the front row who were continuously felled by the elves' arrows like a chilling northern wind.

Upon receiving the order, the orcs quickly huddled together, raising their arm shields to block the rain of arrows falling from the sky...

"Is it even useful?" Elenthor's eyes twitched. What could those short-lived wooden arm shields possibly block? This was a huge underestimation of elven archers!

"Aim at the clustered orcs and fire!" Elenthor's eyes glowed with a deadly light; he wouldn't let the heads Azog sent go to waste.

"Ugh!" A beautifully crafted elven armor-piercing arrow pierced through the center of one arm shield and shot right through, emerging from the mouth of the orc behind it.

"Whoosh!" Amidst the chaotic rain of arrows, one armor-piercing arrow effortlessly tore through the obstacle before plunging down. 

The orc, hiding behind the arm shield, quickly turned his head. 

Although he wasn't directly hit, the wind element carried by the arrow mercilessly severed the major artery in his neck, and his foul-smelling blood gushed up into the sky like a fountain.

"Crash!" A buzz filled the air as another round of arrows was launched by the starry elves.

Outside the city, the once-dense orc army had turned into small groups of surviving orcs rushing towards Loshanier City.

Many fortunate ones managed to slip through the deadly rain of arrows, carrying ladders as they sprinted toward Loshanier City, but despair quickly washed over them...

A nearly twenty-meter-wide moat now stood before them, surrounding Loshanier City!

This was clearly Elenthor and the Aranthor's brilliant idea. The entire Loshanier City, built on grass, had wooden and stone walls barely six meters high. 

There was no way to quickly increase that height, and when Elandor went to find Rynar, he saw the wide, rushing river and suddenly had a revelation. 

After borrowing Old Man Radir shortly afterward, the moat was created before Loshanier City.

"Fire!" With a wave of his hand, Aranthor signaled the human soldiers, who immediately released their bows.

The elven soldiers' stamina shouldn't be wasted on close combat; long-range bombardment was the best use of the elves. 

The human soldiers were enough to clear out the stragglers who had made it past the rain of arrows; even dwarves could hit accurately from a distance of several dozen meters.

"Pfft!"

"Swish!"

"Whoosh!"

"Argh~"

"Splash~"

The sounds of armor-piercing arrows penetrating armor, the friction between flesh and arrow shafts, the dying wails of orcs, and the sound of corpses falling into the water mingled together.

"What a beautiful melody!" Elenthor was satisfied, his eyes glinting with cold light, a mocking smile on his lips.

"…" Aranthor couldn't help but shiver at the sight of Elenthor. What was up with this elf? It seemed he had unlocked some bizarre form...

Noticing Elenthor's increasingly deranged smile, Aranthor quietly shifted a few steps to the side, subtly maintaining some distance.

Elenthor was completely oblivious to Aranthor's slightly horrified gaze, still sneering as he took aim and personally shot down a few tough ogres about to break through the arrow curtain. 

Once the massive ogre fell, the orcs hiding behind it were instantly reaped like wheat.

"Ahem… The king wasn't like this before." Elandor quietly came to Aranthor's side, an awkward expression on his face.

"I understand…" Aranthor forced a small smile.

"His father, our previous king, died tragically at the hands of the orcs, so he…" Elandor spread his hands, not continuing on this heavy topic.

"So…" Aranthor glanced thoughtfully at the orcs below the city, saying nothing.

"Your Majesty, there are too many orcs! You should take a look at our people…" Elandor observed the elves, who were straining their tired arms to shoot their bows at Elenthor and whispered.

"Stop firing!" Elenthor leaned over the city wall, peering at the heavily wounded orcs on the battlefield.

"Whoosh!" The sound of synchronized bowstring relaxation echoed as the elves stepped back a few paces, vanishing from the orcs' view.

…

"The elves' rain of arrows is too fierce; we can't break through…" The orc commander responsible for the vanguard knelt before Azog, trembling with fear.

"Roar! Damn elves! What on earth did Bolg do?!" Azog bellowed in anger. 

Even if Bolg couldn't circumvent the elves' territory, at the very least, he should have been able to stall their army! What was up with this sudden elven army appearing out of nowhere?

At this moment, Bolg, who was leading his army through the dark forest towards the foot of the Lonely Mountain, suddenly sneezed a few times. 

He looked around at the snowflakes, finally deciding to put on a fur cloak.

…

"How's the battle going?" Rynar stood on the walls of Riverguard, looking towards the distant riverbank as he asked Caslow behind him.

"The orcs are at a stalemate with Aranthor and his forces; those starry elves' arrows are too lethal…" Caslow sighed. 

Truly, the elf race, specialized in archery, was deserving of their reputation. Compared to them, the Battanian archers felt like "trash."

"Tsk tsk tsk!" Rynar felt a pang of jealousy—he wanted those incredible archers for himself. He didn't want a bunch of brawlers...

"By the way, how effective is the moat around Loshanier City?" Rynar asked.

"Hahaha! Quite good! The orcs lost nearly two thousand bodies in front of Loshanier City today," Elandor suddenly chimed in.

"Knight Elandor, welcome to Riverguard!" Rynar nodded in greeting. After all, a true dragon knight was a respected figure wherever he went.

"I come representing the king and Aranthor to discuss matters with you," Elandor said, bowing. 

Rynar truly admired Elandor's etiquette as an elven noble; that complex noble bow made Rynar's head spin, let alone performing it.

"What's the matter? Is there anything you need help with?" Rynar inquired.

"The orcs' assault will likely be even fiercer tomorrow. I hope you can send Knight Caslow to support us; after all, I can't engage recklessly," Elandor said, placing a hand over his chest.

"Of course, but I believe the fiercest fighting will occur the day after tomorrow or the day after that," Rynar readily agreed.

"Indeed, I observed the orcs cutting down trees in the dark forest from the sky; they seem to want to make large wooden shields to defend against your arrows. 

It's also possible they plan to cross the River Running," Caslow explained when he saw Elandor's confusion.

"Thank you for your reminder. If there's nothing else, I'll take my leave now," Elandor bowed before expressing his intent to depart.

"Okay, take care. Please send my regards to the two kings," Rynar smiled.

Thank the Dragon God that the River Running hadn't frozen over yet in winter! It was only covered with large chunks of ice, but that good fortune might not last long. 

After Radir personally surveyed the area, he informed Rynar to always be prepared for the River Running to freeze, as the cold currents from the north were about to strike!

"Let the sentinels stay alert; we cannot rule out the possibility of the orcs crossing the frozen River Running to attack us," Rynar instructed Marcus behind him, realizing he hadn't considered that once the river froze, the orcs could directly attack Riverguard.

"Hope Riverguard won't be discovered by the orcs," Rynar sighed helplessly.

Better to let Elenthor and Aranthor shoulder the burden for now; "a dead friend is better than a living brother."

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