Lord of the Rings: Warriors

"Boom!" A violent explosion erupted behind Rynar and his group, as a brilliant blue light illuminated the sky.

"Dissipating dragon energy! A Dragon Knight!" Rynar's eyes shrank, but he quickly realized something.

"It should be one of ours! They're attacking the orcs! Our Dragon Knight has arrived!" Rynar announced, delivering an immense morale boost to his companions. 

After all, in this world filled with magic and battle aura, Dragon Knights were among the most formidable forces.

"Whoosh!" A fierce gust of wind swept over them! It was the powerful wings of the Star Dragon, Skyla, stirring up a storm. 

Even without launching a direct attack, the shockwave from a dragon flying at supersonic speed could be fatal. 

Though the Star Dragon was not the fastest among its kind, its wings still sent most of the orcs tumbling, even affecting the Zaltarion soldiers.

"Elandor! Seal off the battlefield! We need to regroup!" Rynar roared.

The Royal Guard, whose formation had been disrupted by the wind, urgently needed to reorganize. 

They had already spent half their stamina, and the strong gusts generated by the dragon's wings had drained them even further. 

Their large tower shields, meant for protection, had instead become burdensome against the wind.

"By the gods! How did King Rynar get separated from the cavalry?" 

Elandor vaguely heard the calls from below and, after taking a closer look, realized that Rynar and his infantry had somehow ended up several blocks away from the knights. 

What kind of battle formation was this?

Before Elandor could think further, Skyla flapped its wings and soared into the clouds. 

A dense wave of dragon energy surged from its body, forming a protective shield as it shattered the sound barrier. 

Then, with a deafening roar, Skyla dived down, plunging straight into the orc army that had yet to react.

The dragon's mighty roar shook the heavens, and the orcs once again recalled their primal fear of Dragon Knights. 

The terror embedded deep within their blood awakened—this was the same overwhelming force that had massacred orc armies countless years ago.

And now, that power had returned to the continent!

"Take cover!" 

Rynar's instincts screamed that something was wrong. The destructive power of dragon breath and draconic magic was immense. 

Even a mere graze from it could leave them half-dead, especially since Star Dragons' breath carried the trait of annihilation.

"Aaargh!"

"Hahahaha!"

"Nooo!"

The orcs hit directly by the dragon breath had no chance of survival. 

They screamed in agony, writhing helplessly as their bodies disintegrated before their own eyes. Their flesh, bones, and weapons crumbled into dust, fading away into nothingness.

"By the Dragon Gods! What kind of power is this?" Rynar stood in shock, gazing at the now-massive battlefield. 

A trench over 300 meters long, 20 meters wide, and 5 meters deep had appeared before them. Some remnants of dragon breath still flickered, continuing to disintegrate the earth and stone. 

As for the orcs? Rynar scanned the area—there was not a single living soul in sight. 

The buildings nearby were in ruins, their structures obliterated by the dragon's power, burying any unfortunate orcs who had taken refuge inside.

"Boom!" With a heavy impact, the mighty body of the Star Dragon, Skyla, landed on the ground. Lowering its head, it revealed Elandor seated in the hollow of its neck.

"King Rynar! Your knights are up ahead, engaged in battle with the orcs. You can regroup with them. 

I'll leave the remaining orc stragglers to you—I have two other battlefronts to tend to! Good luck!" Elandor pounded his chest in salute before urging Skyla into the sky once more.

"So cool... When will I get my own dragon? I want to be a Dragon Knight too..." Rynar muttered enviously, watching Elandor's graceful departure.

Any intelligent species that bonded with a dragon not only gained an extended lifespan but also a greatly enhanced cultivation aptitude. 

Even if they spent their days doing nothing but feasting and lazing around, they could still reach the sixth tier of power with ease. 

A Dragon Knight's future was virtually limitless—standing shoulder to shoulder with gods was not just a fantasy!

"By the Goddess! The king has lost his mind!" 

From high above, Elandor spotted the second battalion of the allied forces—or rather, one individual who was far ahead of the rest: the Elven King.

"Slash!"

"Crack!"

"Shing!"

Elenthor's attacks were ruthless, each strike aimed to kill. He was avenging himself—releasing all the fury that burned within him. 

This battlefield was a stain upon his honor. 

Here, his pride as a swift and deadly warrior had been shattered—ambushed by a Nazgûl. A Nazgûl, of all things, had backstabbed a ranger! Could there be anything more humiliating?

Disgraced in the eyes of the Goddess, Elenthor could not swallow his shame. 

So when the orcs launched an all-out counterattack to surround the allied forces, Elenthor's first response was neither shock nor fear—but a gleam in his emerald eyes.

The Star Elves around him understood that gaze immediately. It was the look of a hunter who had just spotted his prey.

When Elenthor abandoned his bow, when he drew a pair of curved blades from the back of a Star Elf, he demonstrated to the battlefield what a true ranger's wrath and an Elven King's fury looked like!

Fortunately for him, this part of the battlefield had no Nazgûl waiting in ambush—or at least, he had yet to encounter one. 

Without an opponent of equal skill to counter him, Elenthor had gone completely berserk. 

His battle aura extended beyond his blades, forming razor-sharp arcs of light several meters long. 

Even warriors known for their defense, such as shield bearers and knights, would frown at the sheer force of his attacks.

"Dragon breath," Elandor ordered calmly.

Skyla, understanding instantly, unleashed a torrent of dragon breath upon the orcs pursuing the allied forces. 

The weary soldiers in the rear, who had been struggling against the never-ending ambushes, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Against orcs lacking aerial units, a Dragon Knight was an unstoppable force. 

Even if a Nazgûl were to appear, they would struggle to suppress Skyla—Nightmares couldn't fly, after all. 

Unless Sauron had already equipped his Nazgûl with Fellbeasts, there was no way a knight-based warrior could restrict a Dragon Knight with total aerial dominance.

"Your Majesty!" Elandor leaped from Skyla's back and landed beside Elenthor, drawing his own curved blade as he joined the carnage.

"Good timing! Cut these bastards down with me! Then we'll go for the Nazgûl's heads—I'm really curious to see if they're truly immortal!" Elenthor's eyes gleamed coldly.

"Your Majesty, you've gone too far ahead!" Elandor reminded him tactfully—though he might as well have directly told him he had lost himself in the thrill of battle.

"Don't forget, there are still giant ballistae hidden in the shadows..." Seeing that Elenthor wasn't listening, Elandor sighed and braced himself to continue. 

As exhilarating as it was to fight side by side with his king, getting caught in an enemy trap was an entirely different story. 

He had no interest in becoming a tragic hero, nor did he want Elenthor to fall.

Sticking with their soldiers was their only option.

.

.

.

Guys, do leave some power stones and reviews.

🤞patreon.com/MythosWriter🤞

If you guys enjoy this story, you can support me on Patreon and get access to Advance Chapters, it really helps me to work on new chapters.