The Beastmen, created through Saruman's manipulation of mixed human and beast bloodlines, had overcome the common weakness of ordinary half-beasts, their fear of sunlight. They possessed larger physiques, greater strength, and far more stable bodies. Because of this, they openly despised the Orcs, viewing them as crude, defective creations.
The Orcs, however, believed themselves to be the true heirs of the ancient Dark Lord Morgoth. They had followed Sauron far longer, existed in far greater numbers, and considered themselves the rightful masters of Mordor. Naturally, they resented the Beastmen who now seemed to overshadow them.
Tensions between the two factions had existed for a long time. Now, with Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli secretly fanning the flames, the conflict erupted into outright slaughter.
The fighting escalated rapidly. Orc and Beastman leaders fell one after another, and the chaos spread like wildfire around the Volcano of Doom. Weapons clashed, blood was spilled, and the roar of battle echoed across the blackened slopes.
Aragorn and his companions, caught amid the turmoil, subtly pushed the violence even further, striking key targets, sowing confusion, and ensuring the bloodshed could not easily be stopped.
The massive disturbance drew the attention of nearly everyone in Mordor, including the Great Eye of Sauron atop the Dark Tower.
Hidden beneath their invisibility cloaks, Frodo and Sam watched from behind a mound of shattered stone as Orcs and Beastmen slaughtered one another in the distance. The once-tight blockade around the mountain had quietly collapsed.
"Now," Frodo whispered.
Seizing the moment, the two Hobbits slipped away, circling the battlefield and beginning their careful ascent up the mountain. They chose the most concealed paths, moving slowly and deliberately to avoid patrols.
Whether by luck or fate, they encountered no enemies for a long stretch, until they nearly collided with a massive Wolf.
It was far larger than the Wargs they had seen before, its eyes glowing with sinister intelligence, its body wrapped in dense black energy. Frodo and Sam froze, barely daring to breathe.
The Wolf sniffed the air suspiciously, its gaze sweeping the rocks. Just as their hearts threatened to stop, the wind shifted, carrying the sharp sulfur stench from a nearby lava stream. The smell clearly irritated the creature, and with a low growl, it leapt away.
Only then did Frodo and Sam dare to move again, their bodies stiff with fear.
From that point on, they became even more cautious, dodging patrols of wolves, avoiding the shadows of giant bats and carrion birds, and hiding whenever Sauron's Eye swept across the mountainside. More than once, they were forced into narrow crevices to escape its gaze.
It was a journey of constant tension.
Eventually, fortune, or perhaps the lingering power of the Blessing Elixir, favored them.
The crevice they hid within turned out to be the entrance to an ancient lava tunnel. Once molten rock had flowed here, but after recent upheavals, the passage had gone cold, forming a natural corridor into the mountain's heart.
The entrance was narrow, only Frodo and Sam's small frames could slip inside, but deeper within, the tunnel widened, allowing them to walk side by side.
Compared to the deadly vigilance outside, the tunnel felt almost safe.
Frodo took out the Starlight Phial, and the light of Eärendil softly illuminated the cavern as they pressed onward together.
The tunnel twisted and changed constantly, sometimes vast enough to hold an army, sometimes so narrow they had to claw their way upward along near-vertical stone, using daggers and fingers until their hands bled.
At one point, they reached a fork in the path. A single wrong turn could doom everything.
Guided by instinct, and perhaps by fate, Frodo chose a path and continued forward.
They could no longer sense direction clearly, but they felt themselves climbing higher. That alone gave them hope.
Deep within the mountain, Frodo and Sam continued their silent climb.
Outside, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli remained locked in chaos at the mountain's base, drawing every eye and blade toward themselves. They had no way of knowing Frodo's progress, only faith that the plan would succeed.
The Sauron's Lieutenants had begun suppressing the riots.
Aragorn and his two companions were ultimately discovered by the Nazgûl and their fell riders. Although the Polyjuice potion could alter their outward appearance, deceiving ordinary sight and even most magic, it could not conceal the essence of their souls. Just as Bilbo, when wearing the One Ring, could perceive beings of the Unseen World as pale, radiant forms while creatures of darkness appeared as shadows, the Ringwraiths possessed a similar vision. As wraiths bound to the Unseen World, they could see past flesh and disguise, perceiving the true nature beneath.
Thus, even while hidden among the Orcs, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli stood out starkly. Legolas in particular, as an Elf of ancient lineage, shone with an unmistakable inner light, like stars burning in the depths of night.
"Capture them!" the Ringwraith cried in the Black Speech, its voice echoing across the battlefield as it pointed toward the three figures below.
Their cover blown, Aragorn no longer held back. He raised his wand and unleashed a thunderous explosion spell, instantly blasting aside the surrounding Orcs and Beastmen. Legolas drew his enchanted longbow from his spatial pouch and loosed a rapid volley of radiant arrows into the sky. Though the Nazgûl themselves deflected the shafts, Legolas's true targets were the fell beasts beneath them. Several were struck cleanly, shrieking as they spiraled down and crashed into the earth.
Gimli lacked their magic, but not their ferocity. Roaring, he charged forward with his axe, cleaving into the nearest enemies and sowing chaos among their ranks.
The disturbance immediately drew the full attention of the Eye of Sauron atop the tower. Its gaze fixed upon the three with cold fury, issuing a command to seize them at all costs. In response, Ringwraiths, werewolves, vampires, Trolls, and elite Orcs surged forward in a relentless tide.
At the same time, the Eye, sensing that none of the three bore the presence of the Ring, swept frantically across the volcano's slopes, searching for Frodo and Sam. The skies darkened as giant bats, vile ravens, and winged horrors flooded the air, while tens of thousands of wolves and monstrous creatures scoured the ground below.
Sauron, locked in battle in his true form, received the news at once and descended into utter fury.
"You think you can destroy my Ring? Dream on."
His crimson gaze burned as his power surged violently out of control.
"Even if I must destroy everything, I will not let you succeed!"
A terrifying aura of annihilation erupted from him, shaking heaven and earth alike as molten lava thundered upward from the depths.
Gandalf's face drained of color.
"Not good," he said grimly. "He's going to destroy himself, and everything with him."