Chapter 399: Sauron Appears
Terrible laughter echoed overhead, as though pouring down from the clouds themselves.
A dark, spectral wind swept across the waste before the Black Gate, then gathered in the open ground before Levi, coiling and condensing until it took shape: a towering suit of black armour, bristling with cruel spikes.
Two points of scarlet light ignited inside the helm.
He did not need to announce himself. Everyone already knew.
The Lord of the Rings. The master of Mordor. The Dark Lord, Sauron.
It was true that after his defeat at the end of the Second Age, his strength had diminished so much that he could no longer form a body of his own. He could exist only as a spirit, as will, as a disembodied presence.
But that did not mean he could not inhabit a body that wasn't his.
The armour before them, dreadful and monstrous to look upon, was the very suit Sauron had worn when he still had flesh. Forged to his exact form, it was the pinnacle of craft in all Middle-earth.
When Sauron poured his malice and power into it, it was no longer lifeless. He could move it as freely as a living body.
But at its core, this was still not true flesh. In essence, his state was the same as the Nazgûl: a spirit bound to armour, not truly alive.
Boom!
An enormous black mace struck the ground, throwing up a plume of dust and ash.
Anyone could see the weapon was no ordinary thing at all. Simply resting on the earth, it radiated a dread that gripped the chest and tightened.
That mace might still carry the blood of Middle-earth's greatest High Kings.
But if anything, that only sharpened certain people's resolve. Aragorn gripped Andúril tighter, feeling the call of destiny in his bones.
In the breathless silence, Sauron spoke.
"So you still choose to oppose me?"
Gandalf answered first. "Do not twist the order of things, Sauron. It is you who have stood against the Free Peoples of Middle-earth, not the other way round."
"Oppose you? Did I not offer the finest terms? It is you—all of you—it is him who refused."
Sauron's gaze swung to Levi, clearly intending to lay the blame at his feet.
He would not pass up the slightest chance to gain an edge in any arena.
Levi's voice was flat. "I've already said it. An oathbreaker's pledges are worth nothing. No one in this world will tolerate you lurking at their side."
"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"
Sauron laughed, sudden and booming.
"Then let us fight!"
"War!"
"War!"
At Sauron's command, the dark creatures behind the Black Gate erupted in a roar, hammering their weapons against the ground in a thunderous rhythm, rallying behind their lord.
Levi stepped forward to meet the challenge.
The allied army of free Men began to roar in answer.
The defining battle of an age had begun.
Sauron moved first, walking toward Levi. He raised the massive mace, his iron boots striking the earth with heavy, deliberate force, each step building his presence until the air itself seemed to press down.
Levi moved as well, stepping out to meet him. Unhurried. Unshaken. Steady as stone.
The gap between them shrank. Every soul on the field held their breath.
Clang!
The moment arrived. A colossal crash of metal rang across the open ground, and when the dust cleared, the two weapons locked together, grinding sparks from each other.
The Dragonflame Steel greatsword caught that enormous, wicked mace dead and held it. Every ounce of crushing pressure from above was absorbed without yielding an inch.
Sauron felt a jolt of alarm. No matter how hard he pushed, no matter how much force he poured in, he could not drive the blade down.
And Levi was not content to simply absorb blows. He triggered a disarm, trying to wrench the weapon away, but the Dark Lord's resistance was unnaturally strong. The mace felt as though it were fused to the armour itself. Unless Sauron let go willingly or was beaten into collapse, there was no taking it from him.
Both of them sensed something strange in the other, but it did not slow the fight.
Boom! Boom!
The Dragonflame Steel greatsword and the black mace clashed again and again. Anyone watching could feel the staggering power behind each strike. No one else on that field could have traded so many blows like that and remained standing.
The shockwaves from their exchanges rolled outward like the tide, sweeping across the waste, brushing past every ear.
Each impact fell in time with a pounding heart, ratcheting the tension higher and higher.
The battle raged on. Neither showed any sign of tiring, as though their stamina had no limit. For a long time, neither gained the upper hand. It was impossible to tell who held the advantage.
Then Levi broke the deadlock. He raised his hand and deliberately took the full swing of the mace head-on. His runic shield shattered like paper. The hidden defensive mechanism in his belt released a burst of force, and Sauron's stance wavered for just an instant.
That instant was enough.
Levi ripped the Dragonflame Steel greatsword upward and brought it crashing down on Sauron's shoulder.
Clang!
The impact rang out across the field. The greatsword's massive base damage, combined with Smite V and its innate Fire Aspect, unleashed their full force. Sauron let out a bone-chilling howl, and his entire suit of armour burst into flame.
The blow had dealt grievous damage. Levi, by contrast, had only lost his shield. He had not taken a scratch.
Burning, wracked with real pain, Sauron stumbled backward in a clumsy, graceless retreat, nearly falling.
He understood something now: he could not afford any more mistakes than Levi.
So Sauron abandoned the duel without hesitation.
"Attack!"
Mordor's horns blasted. Orcs and every manner of dark creature surged forward.
Levi fell back to the front of his own lines. But unlike Sauron, he did not immediately order the charge. Instead, he grabbed Aragorn by the arm and whispered urgently:
"Quick, Aragorn, give them a speech!"
"You know I've never been good at that..."
The request caught Aragorn completely off guard. He had been waiting for Levi to deliver the battle cry. He had nothing prepared.
But Mordor's host was already closing in. There was no time to hesitate. Aragorn accepted, strode to the front, drew a deep breath, raised his sword, and called out:
"Sons of the Free City-States! Sons of Gondor! Sons of Rohan! My brothers!"
"Do not let fear take root in your hearts! Do not be cowed by the Enemy's bluster!"
"Perhaps a day will come when the age of Men falls. Perhaps a day will come when we all face our end. But it is not this day!"
"This day, we fight!"
"This day, we charge the Enemy!"
"Arise! Free Peoples of Middle-earth!"
Yes!
Levi could not help but feel a surge of approval.
At Aragorn's glance, he stepped to the front, raised the Dragonflame Steel greatsword high, and brought the speech to its close, giving the formal command to attack:
"In the name of everything we love and hold dear, charge the enemy!"
"Charge!"
"Charge!" the soldiers roared after him.
And so the horns of the Free City-States, Gondor, and Rohan sounded one after another, each louder than the one before, and the silver-white host surged forward in a thundering charge, carried by a wall of sound that shook the earth.
(End of Chapter)