Seeing this scene, the ranger captain first directed the rangers who could still move to use all their remaining arrows to shoot the Orcs climbing up the broken wood ramp, then looked anxiously at the Leyndell Knight beside him.
He asked, "Those lightning spells from before, can you use them again, sir?"
The Leyndell Knight shook his head slightly. "Magic? Oh, you mean Lightning Spear? Unfortunately, my power was nearly exhausted just now, and the other knight is on the front lines resisting Orcs. Unless there are more Leyndell Knights or those specialized in incantations, you'll have to wait for my strength to recover somewhat."
The ranger captain didn't think much about the difference between the "incantations" the other mentioned and his own "magic," seizing on the last sentence. "How long do you need to rest?"
The Leyndell Knight replied, "About 5 minutes to cast Lightning Spear again."
The ranger captain's voice was resolute, without a moment's hesitation. "My men and I will buy you those five minutes!"
Then he spun around sharply, his hoarse roar instantly drowning out the battlefield's carnage. "Abandon ranged attacks! Everyone! Block the gap! Use your blades and bodies; nail yourselves there! Five minutes! We only need to hold for five minutes!"
The captain's order struck like ice water, instantly awakening the exhausted rangers.
But they didn't question or retreat. The mobile rangers immediately shot their remaining arrows frantically at the Orc vanguard surging up the broken wood ramp, not even seeking kills, just to delay that most violent first wave.
The rangers' final arrow barrage poured down, instantly turning the front ranks of Orcs into pincushions. Bodies tumbled down, slightly hindering the following tide.
But this was far from enough. More Orcs trampled over their comrades' corpses, wielding rusted blades and axes, howling as they charged up the ramp's peak toward the defensive line about to be torn apart.
"For our comrades! For the Black Gate!"
The ranger captain drew his curved sword and was first to charge, savagely cutting down an Orc that had just shown its head.
"Block them!"
"Push forward!"
Roars rang out as the surviving rangers, like moths to a flame, used their last strength to form a dam of flesh and blood, desperately plugging the junction between the broken wood ramp and the wall's surface.
They abandoned their natural mobility and skirmishing tactics, choosing to use their bodies to resist the Orc charge. Their nicked, curved swords clashed madly with rusty axes, sparks flying.
One ranger's curved sword was knocked away due to exhaustion, but he unhesitatingly threw himself forward, using his shoulder to pin an Orc's shield, letting another Orc's axe hack into his side just to give his comrade behind the chance to deliver a killing blow.
The rangers' crimson blood soaked the stones beneath their feet, making footing treacherously slippery.
But when someone fell, others immediately filled the gap with hoarse cries, even using broken spear shafts as short spears to stab or biting with their teeth.
Though only five minutes, time crawled as if each second stretched endlessly. Blood and lives were repeatedly painted across the rangers' defensive line, but this seemingly precarious line never fell.
The Leyndell Knight who had spoken with the ranger captain was first briefly shocked by the rangers' decisiveness and efficiency, but then, seeing them use flesh and blood to resist the Orc charge, his eyes flashed with burning respect.
The Leyndell Knight leaped down from where he stood, drawing the knight's greatsword decorated with Golden Tree patterns from his back. His heavy vambrace deflected a rusted axe aimed at a ranger's flank, then backhanded a devastating sword strike that split the Orc from head to toe.
"No need to die for my sake."
The Leyndell Knight's voice remained clear and powerful amid the clash of weapons. His golden, imposing figure embedded itself like bedrock into the rangers' wavering line, allowing them to catch their breath and regroup.
He looked with some regret and pain at the three fallen Dúnedain Rangers, cutting down surging Orcs with his greatsword while saying heavily, "I must apologize to you brave warriors for not joining battle sooner. I misjudged your resolve and courage."
Then the Leyndell Knight's gaze fell on a young ranger beside him who, despite a blade wound to his abdomen, still gripped an Orc's leg tightly so others could finish it off. To all the blood-soaked fighting rangers, he thundered his praise. "By the Golden Tree's name I swear, your Dúnedain valor would move even Leyndell's proudest knights!"
The agonizing five minutes finally ended. The ranger captain hoarsely hurled his now-chipped curved sword at an Orc's head and drew his last remaining dagger when he suddenly felt familiar thunder rumbling behind him.
He briefly glanced back to see the Leyndell Knight had somehow retreated several safe steps back, his raised right arm gathering blazing, crackling golden lightning that finally coalesced into a brilliant lightning spear as thick as a man's arm.
"Fall back!"
The Leyndell Knight let out a thunderous roar while his long-charged right arm hurled forward.
A golden flash that tore across vision, shrieking as it instantly pierced the center of the broken wood serving as the ramp's core.
The Lightning Spear didn't pause. Violent electricity erupted the moment it contacted the wood. The thick timber exploded like it was packed with dynamite, completely shattering in the thunderous blast into countless burning fragments crackling with golden electric fire.
The Orcs climbing the broken wood screamed as they were flung and torn apart. Along with dozens of Orcs on the ramp, they became charred, broken corpses in the dazzling lightning, leaving behind a scorched crater and wisps of smoke.
The exploded wood fragments also caused secondary damage to nearby Orcs. Many were blinded or had fingers broken by seemingly insignificant splinters.
The breath the ranger captain had held so long in his chest finally released heavily as the broken wood ramp was reduced to ash and smoke, his shoulders unconsciously relaxing for a moment.
He wiped the sticky, foul blood splattered on his face, just about to turn and express heartfelt gratitude to the Leyndell Knight, when a cold, metal-wrapped palm heavily clapped his exhausted shoulder.
The Leyndell Knight's voice was low and steady. "Unfortunately, this is not yet time for apologies and rest, brave ranger. The enemy still attacks."
The Leyndell Knight's tone held no post-victory slack, like his knight's greatsword still dripping with Orc blood.
These words struck like ice water, instantly extinguishing the weak joy in the ranger captain's heart. He jerked his head up, his gaze passing over the gap-filled, scorched battlements to the area below the walls.
As far as he could see stretched that same despairing, writhing gray-black ocean.
The destruction of the broken wood ramp had merely created a brief, insignificant eddy in this foul Orc tide.
More Orcs, like endless maggots, frantically surged toward other remaining siege ladders and climbing points, even beginning to claw up the walls' rough surfaces with bare hands.
In the distance, toward the smoke-shrouded horizon, even more massive Orc formations approached like moving shadows.