Facing the overwhelming, menacing swarm of Vampire Bats, the Aurors' expressions remained unchanged.
"Attack!" the Auror Captain commanded.
As soon as he finished speaking, all the Aurors present simultaneously launched their attacks.
Countless spells shot toward the bats.
Instantly, violent explosions rang out across the sky, and dazzling light flashed, forcing everyone to close their eyes, followed by a deafening roar, as if countless bolts of thunder had struck.
The immense power unleashed by dozens of Aurors casting spells together directly shredded, tore apart, and completely annihilated the sky-obscuring Vampire Bats.
The remaining scattered bats seemed terrified and fled in all directions.
Seeing that the Vampire Bats were completely neutralized, the Auror Captain turned to look at the group, focusing mainly on Professor Gandalf, and called out respectfully, "Professor Gandalf, I didn't expect to run into you here!"
These Aurors were all graduates of Hogwarts, so naturally, they recognized Professor Gandalf of the Flying Class.
Gandalf saw his former students, and still remembering each of their names, he greeted them with a kind and gentle smile and thanked them for their timely assistance.
"Professor Gandalf, you are too kind! It is our duty to protect the safety of the territory. If these Dark Creatures dare to trespass into Hogwarts' domain, we must naturally eliminate them!" said the Auror Captain.
Currently, the territory of Hogwarts includes most of the Eriador region, stretching from The Last Bridge in the east to the Barrow-downs in the west, and from the South Downs to the North Downs; this entire area is under the surveillance of the Ministry of Magic's Auror Office.
If enemies such as Orc, Troll, or Evil Spirits appear within the territory, the Aurors are responsible for clearing and eliminating them to ensure the safety of the domain.
To this end, the Ministry of Magic also possesses a copy of Luke's marauders map, which can display the entire territory in the form of a three-dimensional, dynamic map.
Furthermore, there are dedicated Ministry of Magic staff responsible for checking the map constantly. If any anomaly is found, they immediately report it, and Aurors are dispatched to resolve the situation.
The reason the Aurors appeared near The Last Bridge this time was that the marauders map timely detected the Vampire Bats invading the territory, allowing the Aurors to Apparate here immediately at the fastest speed to deal with the bats.
Gandalf was also aware of this, which is why he led the Fellowship Detachment to cross The Last Bridge as quickly as possible, entering the Ministry of Magic's surveillance zone, and using the Aurors' presence to escape the Vampire Bat crisis.
After resolving the bat problem, the Aurors bid farewell to Gandalf and the others, then Apparated back to the Ministry of Magic.
As for Gandalf, he declined the Aurors' invitation to Apparate them back to Amon Sul, choosing instead to ride the two Pegasus slowly toward Amon Sul.
Now that they had entered the territory of Hogwarts, they were unlikely to encounter any danger, so the group proceeded at a leisurely pace.
As for the two Pegasus, their wings were injured during the Vampire Bats' attack and they could not fly for the time being.
Vampire Bats have poisonous teeth, and the bites caused incessant bleeding. Although Gandalf used magic to heal the wounds, he was not specialized in Healing Magic, and only managed to close the wounds enough to stop the Pegasus from bleeding further.
However, the bats' poison and severe blood loss had weakened the Pegasus, leaving them unable to carry the group any further.
Therefore, the group decided to walk west along the main road all the way to Amon Sul, and then visit Luke at Hogwarts.
Furthermore, from this Vampire Bat attack, Gandalf and the others confirmed that Sauron's attention had been drawn to them; the Vampire Bats and the crows were Sauron's eyes.
This bat attack was clearly a probing attempt by Sauron.
Therefore, Gandalf and the others decided to continue drawing Sauron's attention, walking steadily west, maintaining a pace that was neither too fast nor too slow.
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They could not arrive at Grey Havens too early, at least not before Círdan returned by ship, otherwise Grey Havens would draw all the attention, and in order to seize the one ring, Grey Havens might suffer a full-scale attack from Mordor, bringing catastrophic disaster.
Thus, the primary goal of Gandalf's obvious Fellowship Detachment was to lead Sauron and Mordor on a chase, keeping their attention firmly fixed on the West.
And in this process, the Armies of Mordor, the Ringwraiths, and even Sauron himself, might appear in the Western Lands.
But this was exactly the outcome they desired.
Just as Gandalf and the others finally arrived at Amon Sul and visited Hogwarts Castle once again.
Luke received them warmly and invited them to stay in the castle for a longer period.
The two injured Pegasus were completely healed under the care of Madam Amanda of the School Infirmary. Finally, after deliberation by Gandalf and the others, they were released to return to Rivendell.
Meanwhile, the Corsairs of Umbar, commanding hundreds of large warships and thousands of ships, sailed grandly across the Belegaer Sea northward, arriving off the coast of Lindon.
The pirates did not choose to enter Lune Bay directly to attack Grey Havens; instead, they blockaded the sea, intending to cut off Grey Havens' connection with the ocean.
Furthermore, inside Lune Bay, the closest ports to the sea entrance are Harlond and Forlond.
To attack Grey Havens, they would first inevitably have to capture these two ports before taking Grey Havens itself.
But the pirate fleet clearly had a bigger appetite: they blocked the Lune Bay Strait, divided their warships into three groups, and simultaneously attacked Harlond, Forlond, and Grey Havens.
Moreover, thanks to Orthanc Fire, an explosive substance similar to gunpowder invented by Saruman, the pirate warships were equipped with Cannons, possessing formidable power that even Elves could not withstand the bombardment of.
Therefore, the pirate fleet was so confident that they dared to split their forces into three routes to attack the three Elven ports.
Although the pirate fleet possessed the powerful weapon of the Cannon, the Elves were not defenseless.
In the Elven ports, the vessels docked and sailing were all Steamships, specifically Iron-clad Ships, which had neither oars nor sails, but simply puffed steam and whistled as they navigated the waters of Lune Bay.
Such a scene from the Steam Age felt like a completely different world compared to other regions of Middle-earth.
All of this originated from the Principle of the Steam Engine revealed by Luke to Círdan decades ago.
Consequently, the ships at Grey Havens evolved from the original wooden structure powered by sails and oars to the current Steam Engine Power.
Moreover, the steam engine's power source uses the eternally burning Elven Fire, requiring neither coal nor other combustibles, and producing no smoke or dust, making it the most environmentally friendly steam engine.
Furthermore, the speed of the Steamships was faster than wooden ships, and their defense was stronger.
Although the pirates had Cannons, their hulls were still wooden ships, fundamentally different from the Steel Steamships.
Thus, when the pirate ships aggressively entered the Lune Bay Strait, they encountered the waiting Steamships.
The Corsairs of Umbar mobilized hundreds of warships and thousands of smaller vessels this time. Besides being equipped with Cannons, they had tens of thousands of Pirate Crew Members, including Haradrim, Black Númenóreans, and even Orc and Troll.
However, the Orc and Troll were mostly used as laborers, responsible for rowing oars and setting up Cannons.
Of course, when necessary, they would also be turned into powerful Cannon fodder.
The Corsairs of Umbar came out in full force this time, and the Port Marshal personally led the pirate fleet. Under Sauron's instruction, he was to blockade the sea route at all costs to prevent the one ring from being sent west to Valinor.
Therefore, the pirate fleet intended to completely destroy the Western Ports and all the Elves' ships.
This way, no ships would be able to cross the sea westward.
After destroying all the Elven ships, the pirate fleet planned to occupy the ports and use them as strongholds to invade eastward, launching a pincer attack with the Armies of Mordor coming from the east to seize the one ring.
On the surface of Lune Bay, the Pirate Fleet and the Elves faced off from afar.
The Elven warriors stood on the deck of the Steamshipss, holding bows and arrows.
With a command, the Elves drew their bows and fired arrows, aiming accurately at the pirates opposite them.
The Elven warriors were well-trained, and their archery skills were superb; not a single arrow missed its mark.
After a volley of arrows, a group of pirates in the front fell down immediately, letting out screams and wails.
The Pirate Marshal was furious and ordered cannons to smash the Elves' ships.
But what surprised and angered him was that the Elven vessels were not only built of metal, looking incredibly sturdy, but their speed was also more than double that of the pirate ships. They quickly pulled away, making it impossible for cannonballs to hit their hulls.
This left the pirates literally eating smoke in their wake.
The pirates couldn't understand these Elven vessels, built of steel. Not only did they not sink, but they were also faster than their large ships, lacking oars or sails, but instead having a strange smokestack that continuously spewed steam and mist.
The two sides thus engaged in fierce fighting over Lune Bay.
The Elves relied on the speed of their Steamshipss to continuously maneuver around the pirate ships.
Meanwhile, the pirates furiously whipped the Orcs rowing the oars, cursing them to speed up, while continuously bombarding the Elven vessels with cannons.
The Elves of the Lindon region were already few in number due to their continuous departure for Valinor; the total Elven population across the Grey Havens, Harlond, and Forlond ports was only a few thousand, with only a few hundred ships.
Compared to the Pirate Fleet's thousand-plus ships and tens of thousands of personnel, the disparity was enormous.
Given such a massive difference in strength, even though the Elven Steamshipss were fast, they could not avoid being surrounded and having their hulls damaged by cannon fire.
The formerly exquisite hulls became tattered and precarious.
The pirate ships also suffered heavy losses; their wooden hulls were attacked by fire arrows, causing the ships to burn continuously. Some pirates jumped into the sea to escape the flames.
But the next second, they were killed by an Elf arrow, becoming food for the large fish in the sea.
Intense warfare spread across the sea surface, with flames soaring into the sky and screams ringing out endlessly.
Although the pirates' losses continued to mount under the Elves' desperate counterattack, they remained unconcerned. The Pirate Marshal even ordered the destruction of all Elven ships at any cost, even through one-for-one trades or suicidal attacks.
What made the Elves feel as if a great enemy was upon them was that the pirates had also brought forth a massive group of evil sea creatures!
They were sharks comparable in size to large ships, measuring twenty to thirty meters long. They were sea creatures corrupted by the power of Sauron, fed corpses by the Corsairs of Umbar, and thus had fallen into evil.
Using their massive bodies, they attacked the ships underwater and then devoured anyone who fell into the water. These bloodthirsty, evil Giant Sharks made no distinction between friend and foe; anyone who fell into the water, pirate or Elf, would be swallowed whole and buried in a fish belly.
Under these circumstances, the Elves not only had to deal with the pirates' attacks but also guard against the underwater assaults of the Giant Sharks, making the situation increasingly unfavorable.
Just as the Elven warships were about to be completely surrounded by pirate ships, faint cracking sounds continuously echoed in the air, and figures appeared on the Elven and pirate ships.
As soon as they appeared, they decisively waved their wands, knocking pirates away, blowing up small boats, and even attacking the Giant Sharks underwater.
They were the one hundred Aurors Luke had sent to support the Grey Havens, originally stationed at the Grey Havens, Harlond,
and Forlond, assisting the Elves in guarding the ports.
They initially believed that with the more advanced Steamshipss, the Elves could at least maneuver and stall, even if they couldn't overpower the enemy.
But they hadn't expected the Pirate Fleet attack to also bring evil creatures like the Giant Sharks.
With a Pirate Fleet several times their size above the water and Giant Sharks capable of capsizing ships below, this situation of being attacked from both sides plunged the Elven fleet into a major crisis.
Galdor, the Elven Secretary commanding this naval operation, immediately requested aid from the Aurors.
The Aurors continuously apparated onto the ships on the sea surface, or pulled out Flying Brooms to attack the pirate ships from the air.
Small boats were blown into pieces by the Aurors using the Exploding Charm, along with the pirates aboard.
Large pirate ships were also jointly sunk, capsized, or set ablaze by the Aurors.
Even the Giant Sharks lurking underwater were killed one by one by the Aurors.
These Giant Sharks were not very smart; they became frantic as soon as they smelled blood. So when pirate ships were sunk and pirates fell into the water, they were met with the Giant Sharks' frenzied biting and swallowing.
This gave the Aurors the perfect opportunity to jointly kill these bloodthirsty Giant Sharks.
Under the continuous assault and destruction by the Aurors, the pirate ships suffered massive losses. Blood stained Lune Bay red, and severed limbs of pirates floated in the water, along with the corpses of Giant Sharks floating belly-up.
Some pirates who had fallen into the water and miraculously survived struggled desperately, but were ultimately swallowed by the waves and undercurrents.
The pirates were terrified by the sudden appearance of the Aurors. Seeing their ships being sunk one after another, they all swarmed towards the Strait Entrance to escape, even causing a traffic jam.
Over a dozen small boats were overturned by larger ships, sending hundreds of pirates to their deaths in the Strait Entrance.
Ultimately, the pirate ships that successfully escaped Lune Bay and reached the open sea consisted of only twenty or so large ships and a few hundred small ships, with their numbers reduced by two-thirds.
It can be said that the Pirate Fleet suffered extremely heavy losses this time.
After the Pirate Fleet fled to the open sea, the Aurors did not pursue them, choosing instead to rescue the Elves first.
Despite suffering such severe losses, the pirates still did not choose to leave. Instead, they formed a fan-shaped blockade surrounding the sea lanes far from the coastline, as if waiting for something.
At the same time the naval battle was raging in Lune Bay, the Armies of Mordor poured out of the Black Gate and the Pass of Cirith Ungol, attacking Rohan and Gondor.
Concurrently, the Haradrim south of Mordor and the Easterlings north of Mordor cooperated with the Armies of Mordor, advancing westward together.
The combined Armies of Mordor, the Easterlings, and the Haradrim numbered in the millions, divided into several large forces: one attacking Gondor, one attacking Rohan, one attacking Lothlórien and Mirkwood, and one advancing north to attack Dale and the Lonely Mountain.
Meanwhile, in the Angmar region north of the Misty Mountains, an army of over a hundred thousand Orcs had quietly gathered at some unknown time, commanded by the Witch-king of Angmar.
Simultaneously, the Witch-king of Angmar used Evil Sorcery to summon countless Wraiths, possessing the dead who had long slept beneath this land, transforming them into Wights that crawled out of the ground.
Tens of thousands of Wights, like an Undead Legion, marched toward the Eriador region under the command of the Witch-king of Angmar, accompanied by southward-moving dark clouds.
War once again swept across Middle-earth, and it was far more terrifying than ever before!
In Gondor, an Army of Mordor made up of Uruk-hai and Olog-hai (Trolls that do not fear sunlight) poured out of the Pass of Cirith Ungol in the Mountains of Shadow.
Half the host turned to assault the ancient city of Osgiliath, intent on seizing the strategic stronghold that straddled the Anduin River.
The other half bypassed Osgiliath entirely, forded the Anduin, and struck straight at the Capital of Gondor—Minas Tirith.
Among the Army of Mordor marched the Drakes Saruman had bred: flightless, fireless land-Dragons. Yet their colossal bulk let them thunder across the field like living siege-towers, all but invincible in battle.
These Drakes had been defiled by Sauron's malice, fed on filth, and filled with evil spirits until they became true monsters—abominations of scale and hate.
Using their vast bodies as living bridges, the Drakes spanned the Anduin so that the entire Army of Mordor could cross.
Thus the great river, Gondor's natural bulwark, was rendered useless.
Once across, the Army of Mordor surged toward the Capital.
Regent Denethor II, watching through the palantír, foresaw the onslaught. He ordered beacon-fires lit to summon Rohan, rallied every battalion, and concentrated all strength at Minas Tirith for a last, desperate stand.
Yet even graver tidings came from the south: tens of thousands of Haradrim were advancing, their most terrible weapon the Mûmakil—war-elephants.
On their backs rose wooden towers; their tusks bore long steel blades. Arrows glanced off their hides, and a single sweep of those tusks could skewer whole ranks—living battering-rams of flesh and fury.
Attacked on two fronts, Gondor reeled. Denethor remained in the Citadel, scanning the field through the palantír while using a two-sided mirror to issue rapid orders across the widening battle-line.
He knew Gondor's numbers were dwarfed by Mordor's, and with his forces scattered they would be crushed piecemeal.
Therefore he commanded Faramir, captain of Osgiliath, to abandon the city and withdraw every soldier to Minas Tirith, uniting every spear in one final gamble.
Garrisons throughout the realm received the same order: march at full speed to the White City and defend her walls.
Thus the Armies of Mordor and the Haradrim met almost no resistance before joining in one vast host that rolled toward Minas Tirith.
Only the absence of the Corsairs of Umbar—who had sailed north to raid the Grey Havens—spared Denethor a third front and total encirclement.
Yet even without the pirates, nearly half a million foes—plus the monstrous Drakes—pressed upon him, and despair gnawed his heart.
One small mercy comforted him: his beloved elder son Boromir was far away, abroad with the Fellowship of the Ring and therefore safe from the coming slaughter.
Even Faramir—whom he loved less—had won free, using spells learned at Hogwarts to break through the encircling enemy and lead the garrison of Osgiliath home unharmed.
Because both sons still lived, Denethor did not yield to utter despair; he resolved that even if Minas Tirith fell, he would drag Mordor's hordes down with him into ruin.
Hope flickered again: in recent decades almost a hundred Dúnedain of Gondor—Boromir and Faramir among them—had received letters of admission to Hogwarts and completed seven years of magical study.
These Dúnedain Wizards now formed a strike-force under Faramir's command, ready to defend the White City.
Though weaker than the Ministry of Magic's Aurors, they were still far beyond common soldiers—living weapons of spell and will.
So on the Pelennor Fields before Minas Tirith the armies of Gondor met the hosts of Mordor and the Haradrim in savage combat.
Faramir's Wizards Apparated in flickering flashes across the plain, harrying the dozen Drakes and charging Mûmakil, sowing chaos wherever they struck.
A well-aimed Conjunctivitis Curse burst a Drake's eyes; blinded, the monster rampaged through its own ranks, trampling friend and foe alike.
The other Wizards copied the tactic, turning beast against beast.
Killing the spell-resistant Drakes outright was beyond their strength, but at Hogwarts their Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts had taught that even a Dragon could be crippled by striking its weakest point—the eyes.
Now that classroom lesson became a battle-winner.
Curse after curse struck home; more Drakes went berserk, and the Mûmakil broke ranks, tossing their towers and crushing anything in their path.
Seizing the moment, the men of Gondor charged.
Just as victory seemed possible, the Ringwraiths themselves appeared.
Mounted on Fellbeasts and wielding black maces, the Ringwraiths spread terror with every shriek; courage melted, weapons fell from nerveless hands, and men fled in panic.
Even the Dúnedain Wizards paled, their spells faltering as dread froze their limbs.
The Ringwraiths stooped, snatching two helpless Wizards with iron talons and hurling them skyward to be swallowed whole by the Fellbeasts.
The loss of their comrades stung, yet Faramir's company fought on, hurling spell after useless spell against the wraith-lords.
The Ringwraiths wheeled for another pass.
Stronger than ever, they exuded an aura of winter and despair; where they flew, hope withered.
Before them warriors dropped their swords and sank to their knees.
Summoning every shred of will, Faramir brandished his wand and cried a spell; a silver-white aurochs Patronus burst into being.
Its radiance blunted the terror, letting men breathe again.
The mighty beast lowered its horns and charged the Ringwraith.
With a cold laugh the wraith's eyes flared red; black mist coalesced into a cursed arrow of ruin and shot the Patronus through the heart.
The guardian bellowed in soundless agony as darkness devoured its light, then shattered into fading motes of silver.
Just as the Patronus dissipated, Faramir instantly Apparated onto the back of a Fellbeast. He waved his wand, casting a Repelling Charm at the Ringwraith, while with his other hand, he wielded a longsword and severed the Fellbeast's slender neck with a single strike.
The Fellbeast, its head separated from its body, plummeted towards the ground along with the Ringwraith and Faramir.
Faramir gave an ironic smile to the enraged Ringwraith, and just as they were about to hit the ground, he Apparated away again.
The Ringwraith, having lost its mount, fell from a great height. Although it sustained no injuries, its eyes glowed with burning red light, filled with malicious killing intent as it glared at Faramir and the other Wizards.
It swung its massive mace, attacking the Dúnedain Wizards.
The Shield Charms cast by the Wizards were shattered by the Ringwraith's mace, and the Wizards themselves were sent flying, their fates unknown.
Though the Ringwraith, without its mount, lost its advantage of flight, it remained invincible.
More and more members of the Wizard Assault Squad died at the hands of the Ringwraith.
Their spells, however, had little effect on the Ringwraith, posing no real threat.
With the Ringwraith's help, the Armies of Mordor and the Haradrim regrouped and once again advanced on the Gondor army.
Seeing that they were outmatched, especially after Faramir was struck by the Ringwraith's mace and gravely wounded,
Denethor II, at the highest point of the Royal City, finally could no longer sit still.
Although his second son Faramir was not his favorite, he was still his son, so he ordered the herald to blow the horn to retreat into the city.
As the horn sounded, the Gondor army fought and retreated back into the city.
The Wizard Assault Squad, entangled with the Ringwraith, also Apparated back into the city with the gravely wounded Faramir.
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Seeing his second son Faramir covered in blood, his chest caved in, and his breath faint, even the cold Regent Denethor II trembled, wanting to touch his son's face but not daring to.
"Father, will you be proud of me?" Faramir asked weakly, spitting blood.
Denethor II's expression was moved, his lips trembled, wanting to say something but unable to, his eyes filled with sorrow.
Guilt, regret, and other complex emotions flickered, and his once straight back became hunched.
Faramir did not wait for his father's reply and fell into a coma after speaking.
Seeing this, Denethor II's body trembled, mistakenly believing his son was dead.
"Faramir! My son—dead!?"
"No, Your Grace, Regent, Faramir is only gravely wounded and unconscious. He will recover if he takes a Potion!" A voice came from behind.
Denethor II immediately turned upon hearing this, but upon seeing the newcomer, he instantly became wary and guarded, reverting to his cold, arrogant, and stubborn kingly demeanor.
"Thoron Tzel! Why are you here? Are you trying to seize my rule during this opportunity? Ha, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed! Gondor is on the verge of collapse, your ambitions will never be realized!"
Looking at the Steward of Gondor, who was full of distrust and wariness towards him, Aragorn said nothing. Instead, he focused on Faramir, pulled out a bottle of medicine from his pocket, opened it, and leaned down to feed it to him.
"What are you doing to my son?!" Denethor II angrily shielded Faramir, glaring at Aragorn with wariness and extreme distrust.
Aragorn did not get angry, explaining, "This is a healing Potion gifted by Lord Luke. It can cure Faramir's injuries. Faramir's injuries are severe and require immediate treatment. Please allow me to treat him, Your Grace, Steward."
But Denethor II's suspicion and distrust of Aragorn were deeply ingrained. In his eyes, Aragorn was an ambitious schemer coveting his rule over Gondor, and he was full of doubt about the Potion Aragorn offered.
This scene made Legolas and Gimli, who had accompanied Aragorn, frown involuntarily.
Gimli the Dwarf grumbled unhappily, "Ungrateful! Aragorn, since they doubt you, don't bother being kind. Let that brat die! His own father doesn't want to save him, why do you care so much!"
Legolas, with his reserved and introverted nature, couldn't say words like Gimli, but looking at the dying Faramir, he couldn't just stand by and watch someone die.
He warned, "This man's life force is constantly ebbing. If he isn't treated soon, he will die. We cannot delay any longer!"
Upon hearing this, Aragorn no longer bothered to argue with Denethor II and fed the Potion in his hand into Faramir's mouth.
Denethor II was about to stop him, but his body suddenly became unable to move, and he could only watch helplessly as Aragorn gave the medicine to his son.
The Potion worked quickly. Faramir's wounds healed at a visible rate, his caved-in chest from the Ringwraith's mace swelled back out, and his weak breathing became strong.
Finally, Faramir opened his eyes. He had thought he was going to die, but feeling his body completely healed, he showed the relief of someone who had escaped death.
He had been struck by the Ringwraith's mace, which was imbued with dark power, causing injuries that could not be healed by ordinary Potions or healing spells.
So he had resigned himself to fate, awaiting death.
But he never expected to have a chance to live again.
He looked at Aragorn with gratitude, "Thank you! You saved my life!" He had a faint consciousness while in a coma and knew that this person had saved him with a Potion.
Aragorn gently shook his head, "Don't thank me. This Potion belongs to Lord Luke. You should thank him."
Before their departure, Luke had equipped them with life-saving high-grade Potions to ensure their survival if they were injured.
And Faramir, hearing Aragorn's words, still felt no less grateful to him. He knew that if Aragorn hadn't insisted on saving him, he would probably be dead by now.
Meanwhile, Denethor II, seeing his son fully recovered, was filled with ecstasy and disbelief. He didn't even notice when his mobility returned, quickly grabbing his son's shoulders with both hands.
"Faramir, you're better? You're really better?"
Looking at his excited father, Faramir's heart was very complex.
As a son, his brother Boromir had always been the object of his father's affection and pride, while he had always been the neglected and indifferent one. Since he could remember, he had never seen his father smile at him or be satisfied with him.
In order to gain his father's attention, even a single word of praise, he had always worked very hard, but never succeeded.
And this time, gravely wounded and dying, his father had been blocking the treatment. If Aragorn hadn't insisted on feeding him the Potion, he would probably be dead.
Although he didn't understand why his father was so hostile towards Aragorn, willing to watch him die rather than give him the Potion Aragorn offered,
Such actions made him even more desolate.
He thought that if his brother had encountered the same situation, his father would probably have actively begged Aragorn for the Potion.
However, he immediately suppressed all these emotions and thoughts, and instead asked, "What's the situation now? Have the Armies of Mordor attacked the city?"
Aragorn shook his head, "The Armies of Mordor are regrouping, preparing for the next, larger assault, so they haven't attacked the city yet. However, the next offensive will definitely be more fierce, and we must prepare for an all-out battle!"
With Faramir's wounds on the mend, everyone's attention returned to the Armies of Mordor outside the walls.
Across the endless plain, the dense masses of Mordor and Haradrim stretched to the horizon, while Trolls and mammoths hauled colossal siege engines to the fore, ready to storm Minas Tirith.
After Faramir had slain its Fellbeast, the Ringwraith had taken a new mount upon a dragon of shadow and now glared at Minas Tirith with absolute certainty of victory.
On the citadel's highest tier stood Denethor II, Faramir, and their allies: Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, all grim-faced as they surveyed the enemy host.
Denethor II still mistrusted Aragorn, yet Faramir bore no such doubts and asked, 'Though we have mustered Gondor's strength early, we remain outnumbered. We can hold perhaps a week. Beyond yourselves, is there other aid?'
Though he disliked Aragorn, Denethor II looked at him with equal desperation.
Aragorn shook his head and delivered grim tidings: 'Mordor has emptied its vaults. Besides the host before you, other armies strike Rohan, Lothlórien, the Woodland Realm, and Dale and Erebor. Every realm is at war; none can come.'
Hearing this, Denethor's face turned ashen. 'Is this truly Gondor's end?'
Faramir's spirits sank, then brightened. 'What of Hogwarts? Cannot headmaster Luke send help?'
To him Hogwarts far outshone Gondor: the enigmatic might of headmaster Luke, tens of thousands of Wizards, and the Ministry's elite Aurors.
A single contingent of Aurors could tip the balance and save the failing realm.
But Aragorn shook his head. 'Hogwarts itself is beset. The Witch-king of Angmar leads an Orc-horde from Angmar, summoning wights with fell sorcery, marching south upon Hogwarts and Rivendell. They muster for war, shield Lindon and the Grey Havens from the Corsairs of Umbar.
Yet Luke and Elrond know Gondor's plight; upon receiving the Regent's plea they sent us three.'
'Aid? Ha! Three of you?' Denethor laughed, wild and scornful. 'Have you come to die with us, or can you conjure an army to sweep those fields?'
Like a dying man he vented despair, especially toward the one he loathed.
'Watch your tongue, old man!' Gimli growled, brandishing a new axe. 'Three are enough; I'll lop heads till none remain!'
Legolas, calmer, held the dwarf back, sparing Denethor a shower of spittle.
Courtesy owed to a host Regent, even here.
Still, he touched the longbow on his back—Luke's gift—its alchemical limbs that formed bolts of light, never missed, and burst on impact.
A wand in bow-shape, etched with a permanent blasting curse; so long as its wielder's magic endured, the arrows would fly.
With that bow Legolas's own mastery soared; even a wand paled beside it.
Aragorn, unprovoked, answered, 'Regent, Luke and Elrond know three are few. They bid us seek greater help. Bring those allies here, and Gondor stands.'
'Allies? Who?' Faramir asked eagerly.
Denethor stared, incredulous—what power remained unengaged?
'The Dark Door in the White Mountains,' Aragorn replied. 'Luke bade me go there; aid awaits.'
The Dark Door! Denethor and Faramir caught their breath.
The White Mountains split Gondor from Rohan, and that cursed gate was legend.
Behind it dwelt the Dead; none who entered returned.
Scores of adventurers had braved the Paths of the Dead; their bones made the place a name of terror.
Now Aragorn proposed to walk that road—suicide, Denethor thought.
He himself had once dared a palantír to spy within and seen mountains of skulls and spectres, barely escaping the notice of their king.
Never again had he looked upon that land.
Reading their dread, Aragorn offered no comfort.
Declining Legolas and Gimli's company, he Apparated away, leaving them to defend Minas Tirith.
The city's back lay against the White Mountains; the Dark Door was near.
Several swift Apparitions brought him to the Morthond valley.
Entering from the southern side, opposite Luke's northern approach, he reached the cavern where the Dead assembled.
The scent of living flesh roused them; skeletons stirred, cold terror thickening the air.
'Who disturbs our rest? Leave your corpse to rot with us!'
The hollow voice of the dead rang out.
A crowned wraith with eyes of green flame regarded Aragorn.
Spectres closed in, a tide of shadow.
Sword drawn, he answered, 'I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur. By Luke of Hogwarts I come to claim the oath you swore!'
Hearing Aragorn's words, the Ghost King, who had been about to attack, suddenly stopped moving.
"Luke? Were you sent by Luke?"
As he spoke, he instantly appeared before Aragorn, his hollow skull eyes fixed on him, the green fire in his eyes flickering with an eerie light.
"You say you are a descendant of Isildur?!"
This sudden movement instinctively made Aragorn raise his sword defensively, his face full of vigilance.
The Ghost King, however, paid no attention to Aragorn's wariness. After examining him carefully, his hoarse, cold voice held a hint of excitement: "Indeed, you are a descendant of Isildur. You possess some of his appearance and temperament."
Then his gaze fell upon the sword again, and the green fire burning in his eyes brightened: "Is this narsil?
Wasn't it shattered?"
"narsil has been reforged. It is now called Andúril (Flame of the West)," Aragorn replied affirmatively.
The Ghost King was completely surprised and delighted. narsil was the legitimate symbol of the Gondor throne, and Aragorn's possession of the sword confirmed he was a direct descendant of Isildur.
The hope for their complete deliverance had finally arrived!
It seemed the Wizard Luke had kept his word and found them the opportunity for release.
Although the Ghost King was inwardly ecstatic, his exterior showed little emotion, his voice still cold and hoarse: "Aragorn, descendant of Isildur, that Wizard Luke should have already spoken to you.
State your demand. As long as you agree to swear an oath before the Stone of Erech that you will release us after the deed is done, we will agree to serve you once."
Aragorn did not hesitate and nodded: "I agree. Gondor is currently under attack by the Armies of Mordor. If you deploy your forces to help us resolve Gondor's crisis and fulfill the oath you made to our ancestor Isildur long ago, you will gain freedom and eternal rest."
"It is settled!"
Not long after Aragorn left the Royal City of Gondor, the Armies of Mordor launched another siege.
Outside the City of Gondor, mighty Trolls dragged massive siege engines toward the walls, while countless catapults continuously hurled boulders into the Royal City, smashing holes in the wall structures. Some unfortunate Gondor warriors were also crushed to death by the stones.
—
But more warriors remained firm atop the city walls, retaliating with catapults, destroying the enemy's siege engines or catapults.
Or they continuously shot arrows, killing the Mordor soldiers approaching outside the city.
For a time, roars and wails were incessant.
Regent Denethor II still presided over the Royal Palace, stabilizing the morale of the military and the populace within the city.
Although he did not hold much hope for Gondor's victory and even doubted Aragorn, who had gone to the Land of Ghosts for aid, perhaps because both of his sons were still alive, Denethor II was not as mad and decadent as he was in the original timeline.
Instead, he resolved to fight until the very last moment, vowing to live and die with Gondor.
Faramir, having recovered from his injuries, once again led the Wizard Assault Squad and other Gondor soldiers out of the city to fight the Armies of Mordor.
Legolas and Gimli also chose to join Faramir's ranks.
The armies on both sides once again engaged in fierce fighting on the plains outside the city gate.
"Hey, pointy-ears, let's see which of us kills more!" The Dwarf Gimli shouted toward Legolas, swinging his long axe and severing the legs of a Uruk-hai.
Legolas, his competitive spirit aroused, replied, "Alright!"
Hearing this, Gimli immediately grinned triumphantly and chopped off the head of the still-struggling Uruk-hai with one swing of his axe.
"One!"
Not to be outdone, Legolas nimbly dodged an incoming arrow, then drew a dagger and threw it in the direction the arrow had come from.
Accompanied by a scream, a Uruk-hai was struck in the eye socket by the dagger and fell down.
"One for me too."
Seeing this, Gimli immediately charged toward a group of Uruk-hai, waving his long axe: "Orc brats, your Grandpa Gimli is here to show you some love!"
Gimli's height was less than half that of a Uruk-hai, but his combat power was strong, and his reactions and speed were quick. He specifically attacked the Uruk-hai's lower body, chopping their legs with his axe, and then, after the Uruk-hai fell, he chopped off their heads with a single swing.
"Two! Three! Four—" Gimli counted loudly while hacking at the enemy.
Legolas's efficiency was also high. Two short daggers constantly danced in his hands, harvesting the lives of his enemies with a fighting elegance and beauty.
Just then, Legolas saw a Wyvern charging straight toward their army.
If it were allowed to enter and wreak havoc among the Gondor army, it would surely throw the troops into chaos, resulting in the brutal deaths of countless soldiers.
Seeing this, Legolas ignored his competition with Gimli, drew the longbow from his back, and aimed at the Wyvern charging toward them in the distance.
The magic power within him condensed through the longbow into a Light Arrow, which instantly shot toward the Wyvern.
The speed of the Light Arrow was comparable to the speed of light. It instantly struck one of the Wyvern's eyes. Accompanied by a violent explosion, one of the Wyvern's eyes, along with the side of its head, was blasted into a bloody mess.
The Wyvern was not dead, but the intense pain caused it to let out deafening roars of agony. Its charge stopped, and it struggled and thrashed wildly.
The surrounding Mordor soldiers were affected by the rampaging Wyvern, either being crushed into meat paste or swept away by its tail.
But before the Wyvern could rage for long, Legolas, with his agile movements, dodged the Wyvern's tail attack, leaped onto its body, drew his Elven long knife, and plunged it deep into its head.
The Wyvern's movements instantly froze, and then it died completely.
Gimli, who was currently killing his 34th enemy, was startled to see Legolas kill a Wyvern, and immediately shouted: "Hey, pointy-ears, even though that one is huge, it only counts as one!"
Legolas paid no mind to Gimli, stood on the Wyvern's head, drew his longbow, and shot arrows at the surrounding Mordor soldiers.
His speed was incredible; Light Arrows were continuously fired, killing the enemies around him.
"21, 22, 23 34, 35!"
He then drew his bow again, and three Light Arrows appeared simultaneously on the bowstring, striking three Uruk-hai at once.
Seeing Legolas's actions, Gimli was dumbfounded and his face was full of disbelief. While angrily chasing and hacking at a Uruk-hai, he yelled: "pointy-ears! That's not fair! How can I compete when you have a divine weapon!"
But Legolas's attention was no longer on Gimli's words. He gazed intently at the Ringwraiths riding Wyverns approaching in the distance, his expression very solemn.
The next second, he drew his longbow again, aimed at the Ringwraiths, and fired a Light Arrow infused with his strongest magic power.
The Light Arrow shone with dazzling brilliance, piercing the air as it instantly flew toward the Ringwraiths.
The speed of the Light Arrow was instantaneous, but just as it was about to hit the Ringwraiths, it was blocked by the Ringwraiths' mace.
Accompanied by a violent explosion, the Wyvern beneath the Ringwraiths was affected and suffered wounds, but the Ringwraiths were completely unharmed.
Legolas did not give up and continued to shoot arrows toward the Ringwraiths, accompanied by bursts of violent explosions.
But he could not wound the Ringwraiths.
The Ringwraiths, their eyes burning with red fire, stared at Legolas and spoke mockingly: "Elf, your magic has no effect on me! (Black Speech)"
Immediately, the Ringwraiths controlled the frenzied Wyvern and charged toward Legolas.
Suddenly, the distinct crack of Apparition sounded.
A figure suddenly appeared on the Wyvern's body. Aragorn raised his longsword and slashed toward the Ringwraiths.
The Ringwraiths quickly turned and used their mace to block the longsword. They were about to counterattack, but upon seeing Aragorn's longsword, their red eyes instantly narrowed: "narsil!!!"
Accompanied by a sharp, ear-piercing shriek of disbelief, the Ringwraiths retreated rapidly backward, dissolving into black mist in terror.