"Thorin!" Roland nodded when he saw Thorin rushing out.

"Sir Roland, I thank you on behalf of the Turin family in the name of the King under the Mountain!" Thorin said gratefully.

"You're welcome, we have a contract after all." Roland tried to sound indifferent. He didn't want Thorin to know that if things went badly with Reynold, he planned to take his men and leave.

"Azog!" Thorin Oakenshield gritted his teeth, staring in the direction of Raven Hill.

"Give it up, we still don't have the strength to break through," Roland said, glancing at the exhausted dwarves around him.

Kind-hearted Ivy was holding her staff high, white healing light pouring down from its top. The dwarves within a hundred meters suddenly felt lighter as their wounds healed rapidly.

Roland glanced at Ivy. An area-based healing spell? he thought, impressed. Finding such a talent among temple priests is rare. It seems I'll need to protect her and perhaps train a few more apprentices to form a dedicated medical team.

"Roland! Can you lead the knights to drive away the orcs and take me and my men to Raven Hill?" Thorin asked anxiously.

"Impossible! Gundabad's orc reinforcements have arrived! I can't send you there to die!" Roland turned his head to look at Raven Hill in the distance.

"Pfft!" Roland's eyes widened. What was he seeing? The Swiftstream Infantry had given up on reaching the safety of River Valley City and instead turned toward the orc-infested Raven Hill.

"Charge! Rescue our brothers!" Roland's face turned red with urgency.

"My lord! Your Majesty! My king!" Reynold hurried over and grabbed Roland's reins.

"Reynold! Do you intend to disobey my orders again?" Roland's eyes narrowed, his hand tightening around the Dragon Sword.

"My lord! Don't question the professionalism of the Lagrand soldiers! They just made the right choice!" Reynold said in pain. He knew what the Swiftstream Infantry were planning. They intended to block the orc reinforcements, even if there were only 300 of them.

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"Only by quickly destroying the enemy in front of us can we have hope of victory and save them!" Reynold pulled Roland, speaking earnestly.

"I want to save my people first!" Roland rushed forward, disregarding Reynold's words.

"But even if we break through, we won't be able to bring them back! They are infantry..." Reynold said in a daze.

"Holy Knights! Goal: Don't leave any of these damned orcs standing!" Roland's face was hideous with determination. He knew Reynold was right. Only by quickly destroying the orcs in front of them could they hope to rescue the Swiftstream Infantry.

"Kill!" The dwarves' shield formation opened a gap, and Roland led the knights in a charge. The dwarves followed, launching a counterattack under Thorin's leadership.

"They fought for their king," Gandalf said, showing a smile of approval as he threw fireballs at the enemy.

...

"Tiger!" The right hand of the first platoon of Swiftstream Infantrymen bent back and then suddenly thrust forward.

"Pfft~" The sound of spear tips cutting into flesh was continuous.

"Ow~" Many orcs wailed in pain, clutching the spear shafts embedded in them.

"Pfft!" The Swiftstream Infantrymen spun and pulled their spears back, and the orcs who were stabbed collapsed to the ground.

"Captain! There are too many orcs! We’re going to be surrounded!" a Swiftstream infantryman shouted anxiously.

"Brothers! Are you afraid of death?"

"Don't be afraid!" they replied in unison.

"Then in the name of the Empire! Charge! For the homeland! For Lagrand! For the King!"

The infantrymen raised their spears, forming a Swiftstream formation and charging forward. The sudden counter-attack caught the orcs by surprise, momentarily halting their advance.

"Oh! Have they gone mad?" a dwarf exclaimed, astonished by the Swiftstream Infantry's charge.

"God! How are they doing this?" Bard, leading the townspeople in River Valley City's desperate resistance, was equally shocked.

"..." Roland was stunned, watching the soldiers charging in the distance. His warhorse, losing its rider's guidance, wandered aimlessly on the battlefield.

"My God!" Roland had never seen such a grand scene. The noble blood of dragon knights splattered in the sky, the unyielding arrogance of paladins fell to the ground, and sage-level mages were easily felled by ordinary orcs. Temple priests shuttled through the battlefield, and allies from various races—elves, dwarves, and tree people—joined from all directions.

At that moment, Roland witnessed a scene he would never forget. The Swiftstream Infantry from Swiftstream City and along the Swiftstream River, lined up in rows of 30 and columns of 10, sang battle songs as they charged. They crashed into the ranks of the Dark Alliance, disrupting their lines. Thousands of Swiftstream Infantrymen, like the waters of the swift river, relentlessly battered the demons' and orcs' defenses. Reynold's group successfully tore through their lines, stabilizing Lagrand's defenses.

In that battle, only a thousand of the 500,000 Swiftstream Infantrymen who followed Reynold made it into Lagrand City. They all fell on the road to the charge, their blue and green steel armor covering the city of Lagrand. They used their mortal bodies to break the professional army...

Tears filled Roland's eyes and flowed silently. The familiar figures from the past now merged with the present. Roland saw the green speck upstream in the black tide, as if a square of rapids stood beside them.

"Those are the heroic spirits of Swiftstream," Roland murmured.

In the cries of the Swiftstream Infantry, they seemed not to be alone. The spirits of their ancestors stood with them, marching in a neat square, in unison. The phantom of Lagrand City was faintly visible ahead...

"For Lagrand!" Roland remembered, the Swiftstream Infantry of the Lagrand Empire were still reliable.

The sound of spears breaking, shields shattering... Sharp swords pierced their bodies, heavy hammers shattered their helmets. They might fall, but they never stopped. Whenever a Swiftstream Infantryman fell, another immediately filled his place. After their spears broke, they drew maces and swung them hard...

Roland trembled all over, but he had no choice. He could only watch his soldiers die on the battlefield, just like the Swiftstream Infantry who watched Lagrand fall in battle...

"No!" Roland cried out in grief as the last Swiftstream Infantryman was overwhelmed.

They kept their oath, and the world's last Swiftstream Infantry... perished.