Novia let out a deep sigh, her voice heavy with concern. "It looks like we're in for a lot of trouble."
"If the orcs cross the river and attack Rapid City... then..." James trailed off, his voice faltering at the grim possibility.
Roland, standing nearby, shared in the unease. "If they do, the orcs from the south and north could converge on the Gushan battlefield. The coalition forces would be completely cut off, leaving us surrounded."
"King Roland, what’s the state of Rapid City's defenses right now?" Novia asked, her tone revealing a mix of frustration and helplessness.
Roland sighed deeply before responding, "Come with me, and I’ll show you."
---
When they arrived at the city’s fortifications, Novia’s face fell. The sight before her was disheartening. The city's main wall, enhanced with magic-patterned stone and towering at five meters high, was formidable. But surrounding it were walls less than two meters tall, barely enough to keep out common wildlife, let alone an orc horde.
"This is it?" Novia exclaimed in disbelief, spreading his hands in frustration. "What could these walls possibly stop? Goblins?"
Roland’s shoulders slumped as he replied, "Most of our people are still wandering and haven’t returned home. Our mages can only produce so many magic stone bricks each day. This is all we could manage."
"If the orcs cross the Swift River, how do we stop them? By throwing our lives at them?" Novia was dumbfounded, realizing the precarious situation they were in.
Roland nodded, his expression grim. "If they cross, I’ll have no choice but to lead our soldiers to hold them off at the riverbank. It’s all we can do."
Novia looked at Roland with a mixture of pity and frustration. "Let’s just hope they don’t discover this fatal weakness," she said, mounting his unicorn. With a flap of its wings, the creature soared into the sky, leaving Roland to contemplate their dire situation.
After watching his leave, Roland turned his thoughts inward. "System, show me the territory page details," he commanded.
A familiar light curtain appeared before him, revealing Rapid City’s current state. The information was not encouraging.
---
**Rapid City Status:**
- **Area:** One kilometer in radius
- **Building Units:** Dilapidated lord castle, 80 crumbling dwellings, 20 weak dwellings, broken stone walls (under repair), stone wells, blacksmith shops, military camps
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
- **Troops:** 913
- **Population:** 247 (Trainable civilians: 52)
- **Evaluation:** The lonely king has led the remnants of his people back to their homeland. This fragile refuge offers scant shelter from the elements, with darkness still threatening the new king. The town’s only productive capacity is fishing, and its military might is its sole strength. However, the town lacks any real war potential. A defeat in battle could spell disaster.
**Abilities:**
1. As the only territory of the Lagrang Kingdom in Middle-earth, it will attract Lagrang's remnants. The system will guide a wave of wandering civilians here daily, though their numbers are uncertain.
2. Civilians can be recruited and trained as Swiftstream infantry.
---
Roland sighed heavily as he reviewed the information. "The population is still too low! We have more troops than civilians. This imbalance is strangling our potential for future growth." Soldiers could be recruited in large numbers with each system sign-in, but the daily influx of refugees was meager and inconsistent. It was a ticking time bomb for their war potential.
"Carlos!" Roland called out. "Equip the El Nino Rangers with Sharmas and send them to monitor the lower reaches of the Swift River. If the orcs attempt to cross, they are to light the beacons immediately. Move the knights along the river daily to investigate any signs of crossing."
Carlos nodded gravely. "Understood, my lord."
"Reynold!" Roland turned to his commander. "Focus on training the light infantry. I don’t expect them to be heroes, but they must be capable of forming a line and holding against the orcs."
"As you command, my king," Reynold replied, bowing before leaving the tent.
Roland’s mind raced as he considered the situation. "Time is running out. Azog’s style suggests that the orcs could strike in winter, catching us off guard."
Suddenly, Carlos burst into the tent, a magic crystal clutched in his hand. "Sir! You need to see this!"
Roland’s heart sank. "What’s happened?"
Carlos activated the magic crystal, projecting a scene that filled Roland with dread. A vast army of orcs marched through the wilderness, their numbers staggering. Tens of thousands at least.
"Where did this come from?" Roland demanded, his voice tight with fear.
"A group of wandering prairie elves brought it. They recorded it while fleeing from the orcs on the east bank of the Swift River," Carlos explained.
"Take me to their leader. Now!" Roland ordered.
---
The elf leader, a young patriarch named Vervill, greeted Roland with a respectful bow. "Greetings, King of Lagrand. I am Vervill, leader of this prairie elf tribe."
Roland wasted no time. "Thank you for the information, but I need details. Where was this recorded?"
Vervill nodded, his expression serious. "It was recorded on the east bank of the Hong River. We lived under the Iron Hills, but the orcs began gathering there for reasons unknown. For the safety of my people, I led them westward to escape."
"Did the orcs cross the river?" Roland asked, his anxiety clear.
"They hadn’t crossed when we left, but they were cutting trees to build rafts," Vervill confirmed.
"Dammit," Roland muttered under his breath. This wasn’t just Sauron stirring up trouble; it was a full-scale mobilization. The Rune region, which had been under Sauron’s control, was now sending its forces west. Someone powerful was orchestrating this.
Roland turned back to Vervill. "How many of your people are there? How many can fight?"
Vervill hesitated before replying, "We have 657 in our tribe. Only 149 are warriors, and most of them are first-order professionals."
Roland nodded thoughtfully. "You have a choice. You can leave your clan here or cross the river to the city of Los Saint Neil. But I need you to stay and help us stop the orcs."
Vervill bristled. "You have no right to order me!"
Roland’s tone remained calm, but his words were sharp. "This isn’t an order. It’s reality. If you want to head south and face the orc army of Togol, or west through the Misty Mountains swarming with orcs, or north to confront the forces of Gondaba, be my guest. But understand this—every path is surrounded by orcs."
He pulled out a sheepskin map and drew a circle around the Lonely Mountain. "We’re already surrounded. If you don’t help, we’ll all die."
Vervill’s face went pale. "By the goddess... this can’t be true!"
"It is," Roland replied grimly. "I suggest you get your women and children across the river. The city defenses there are more reliable than ours... barely."
"How long ago did you leave the east bank?" Roland asked, suddenly realizing a crucial detail.
"Five days," Vervill replied after a moment’s thought.
"Good. Prepare your people and get ready to meet the enemy," Roland ordered.
Turning to Carlos and Reynold, Roland continued, "Carlos, investigate the east bank. Reynold, cross the river and inform King Novia and King James of the situation. Request reinforcements if necessary."
The two men nodded and quickly left to carry out their orders, leaving Roland alone to contemplate the looming threat. The orcs were coming, and Rapid City stood in their path. It would take everything they had to survive the storm.