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Chapter 245 - 245 - While the Lord Is Gone

"It's just some orcs, nothing that requires reinforcements."

Hearing this, both Gandalf and Balin frowned slightly.

"Just...? We're talking about tens of thousands of orcs, and certainly not without trolls and all kinds of beasts. I know you're strong. If it were just you, you could probably charge back and forth through their ranks unharmed. But this is defense, you have to hold this land. You're not one of those stone-giants the size of mountains; you can't block everything at once."

"While you're occupied somewhere, there will always be places left unguarded."

"Of course, I understand."

Garrett smiled and asked, "Halbarad, can you tell me how many Rangers are nearby?"

"Your own... Forget it."

Giving up on lecturing the stubborn man before him, Halbarad instead replied, "From the Weather Hills to the South Downs, and from the South Downs to the ford, within three days we could gather a little over a thousand Rangers."

"By the way, since one of our hidden settlements isn't far from here, my kinsmen could also come to aid. But you know our situation, gathering even a few hundred is our limit."

The Rangers were always few in number, scattered across all of Eriador. One might encounter a wanderer anywhere in the wilderness, but to gather a large number in one place was unlikely, less likely even than Garrett quietly staying in his domain to mind his own affairs.

"There's also Wayfort. Judging from recent training, excluding the Rangers currently away on field missions, the available standing force is about three thousand."

"Three thousand soldiers, plus a thousand or so Rangers," Gandalf summarized for him.

"That's enough. That many are enough to deal with the orcs that have gathered, so long as we can take care of the Nazgûl and whatever other unknown tricks they have."

"Don't forget there's also a Dwarf here. My axe will serve you... though I seem to have forgotten to bring it. Can you find me one?" Balin looked expectantly at Garrett.

"Of course. Whatever kind of axe you want, you'll have it."

After assuring Balin, Garrett turned again to Halbarad.

"Is that all?"

"That's all we can muster on short notice."

With that, the council chamber fell into silence.

"What's the matter?" Gandalf was the first to break it.

Isn't this enough?

Over four thousand elites. Build the walls higher, put some iron golems inside, so long as the Nazgûl were handled, no army out of Moria could possibly break through.

A similar situation had already played out in the Battle of Five Armies, and the numerical gap back then was far greater than it was now.

And as Halbarad said, this was only what could be gathered quickly. As the fighting dragged on and word spread, their side would only grow stronger. Reinforcements would keep flowing in, while the orcs would only dwindle.

"It's still not enough," Garrett suddenly spoke.

Holding the fortress could be done, of course, but...

"I want to test the limits of all the realms."

"I'll make a trip to the other territories."

"The other territories? Which ones do you mean?"

"All of them."

That very day, several hundred laborers ceased all other work and instead focused on accelerating the construction of the wall.

Because the settlement was built by the river, the workload for building fortifications was far less, the great river itself served as a natural barrier.

With the construction crew working at full speed, by noon the base of the wall was already in place, the outline clearly visible. From there, all that remained was to keep building higher and higher.

They just had to keep stacking it upward. As for things like structure, stability, or cohesion, none of that mattered.

As long as it was within the domain, whatever was built would always be at its strongest.

"He's gone."

Outside the castle, the three of them stood somewhat at a loss.

Balin turned around, seeking the opinions of the other two.

"So what do we do?"

"We ought to knock some sense into his head, so he realizes a lord should not depart right before a battle."

Gandalf narrowed his eyes.

Standing beside him, Halbarad patted the occasionally bad-tempered old man on the shoulder and reassured him:

"That's just how he is. Don't take it to heart."

"Though he may not seem very responsible most of the time, at critical moments he always returns."

"Or do you really think he's the sort of man who would gamble with the lives of his own people?"

"Of course not."

Gandalf shook his head.

"As far as I've seen, there is no one in this world who cares more for the lives of his people than he does, not even the Elves who dwell beyond mortal concerns."

"Then trust him."

With that, Halbarad mounted his horse.

"Where are you going?"

"To Wayfort, to organize and rally the troops."

After Garrett's departure, the responsibility naturally fell upon Halbarad, even though in name he had never formally joined Wayfort.

In truth, the fortress didn't yet have an official post for this kind of role, or rather, there hadn't been time to establish one. Usually, whoever was most suitable would simply be given the task. And right now, Halbarad was clearly the most suitable. In terms of age and battlefield experience, he might not be the very best among the Rangers, but in terms of understanding this region, Garrett's domain, and Garrett himself, he surpassed most.

This was proven true soon enough: when Halbarad arrived at Wayfort and explained the situation, both the Ranger instructors stationed there for training and the townsfolk unanimously put him forward as leader of this operation.

As for the backup commanders set up for safety's sake, there were many. So many, in fact, that they had to be numbered.

Everyone was a soldier, but in moments of need, everyone could become a commander as well. This was not yet fully realized, but thanks to ongoing policies, many territories were already trending in that direction.

At the gates of Riverside Fortress, Gandalf and Balin looked at each other.

With Garrett gone, and now Halbarad departing swiftly as well, only the two of them remained, ironically, the two least familiar with the domain.

"Are you going to leave too?" Balin asked, raising his head.

"Leave? Where would I go?"

"I cannot depart."

Gandalf sighed.

"If anything unexpected happens, I'm the only one who can deal with a Nazgûl. I must stay here and guard in their place."

"All right then, I'll stay with you."

Balin nodded.

"Come with me."

Gandalf opened the doors of Riverside Fortress and said,

"By Garrett's instruction, the armory is on the left. Take this chance to find yourself a weapon that suits you."

Clang.

As the armory doors swung open, Balin's eyes lit up.

"Elves, Dwarves, Men... even Orcs, every kind of weapon forged by every race is here."

"This is magnificent. If I had an armory like this, I could sit and admire it all day long."

"This one."

He picked up a dwarven steel war-axe.

"I like this. Big, solid, heavy, and sharp, no orc skull could withstand even a single blow."

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