Chapter 324: The Year War Begins
Time always slips by in ordinary days. When one looks back, it turns out that there were not so many great events that truly dragged everyone in all at once.
At least, not all that often.
It is the quiet that rules most of life.
And many people meet the end of their days amidst that quiet.
Their night has come.
[Aerjie: 2916–2995]
[Yawen: 2918–2996]
Standing before two relatively new gravestones set side by side, Levi closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.
"Yet my own night is nowhere in sight."
He planted a flower in front of each of their graves.
The first time they met, both young men had been in their twenties, still free wanderers. They had fought and bled on the front, walked the wild and the mountains, passed the Black Gate alongside caravans and Levi himself.
They had once battled with all their strength to claim the title of legion champion, giving everyone a duel to remember.
They had stood for an era, and at the close of that era, they had gone, one after the other.
That day, Levi went into the armoury and picked through the stores until he had chosen the basics he needed.
Then, on an open patch of ground near the graveyard, he raised a memorial hall and gave it a grave and solemn interior.
When all was set in place, Levi drew the Dragonsteel sword Yawen had returned to him and drove it upright into a stone plinth. Behind the plinth rose a memorial wall.
On the first line of that first wall behind the first plinth, he wrote in small, neat script:
First Legion Tournament Champion: Yawen (2918–2996).
Thus, a sword gained a history.
It would stand here on display until its next wielder arrived.
Every sword would have its own plinth and memorial wall.
When the memorial hall was opened, all the champions found time to visit. Each chose the place where his weapon would one day rest and carved his own name on the corresponding wall.
Every new legion champion thereafter would come here once, to claim his heirloom blade and honour those who had gone before.
After all this was done, a few more months passed. Levi walked the North Wall again and went deep into Angmar to survey it.
"Almost there."
In 2997, Roadside Keep convened a meeting on a scale unmatched in recent years.
The primary attendees were the commanders of each legion of Roadside Keep, whether garrison or ranger, along with company captains, legion champions, and several wanderer representatives and instructors.
Alongside them came the internal coordinators of Roadside Keep: representatives from each district, heads of engineering, and those charged with overseeing and managing key facilities such as armouries and stores.
The topic of the meeting was the final cleansing of Angmar.
After a long campaign, the matter had at last reached its final phase and could begin to be drawn to a close.
Levi oversaw it personally.
He was no longer the clueless, offline lord of decades past. After Bard's death, he had applied himself, quietly finishing all those lessons Bard had urged on him, and he had once pretended not to hear.
The council ran long.
Under Levi's habit of caution, the final decision and draft plans were also conservative.
There was little to say about logistics. Supplies and weapons had never been an issue. Most of the managers were graduates of good schools who had seen battle, able with pen and sword both. They knew what was needed at the front and were proficient at coordination, capable of keeping everything in order.
As for the offensive itself:
The preliminary plan was that, after leaving the necessary garrisons behind, Roadside Keep and the City of Water would field a total of ten thousand picked troops and march north.
Levi would command overall, supported by two of Roadside Keep's commanders. Under them stood five legion commanders and over a hundred company captains.
The basic formation was two thousand men per legion, each legion made up of ten companies of two hundred.
Each legion would have at least one legion champion. They would fight valiantly and remain close by their legion commander, acting as his guard to ensure he did not fall to some stray blow.
Within each legion, every company would have at least two elite rangers, and among those two, at least one would need to be skilled in command and tactics, responsible for coordination, execution, and planning.
Finally, none of these roles was rigid. When necessary, each could be shifted up or down, filling gaps and replacing losses.
Ten thousand elite troops were more than enough to deal with Angmar's remnants, especially with Levi present.
Remnant was the word. They were called remnants because, long before this offensive was raised, the region had been worn down for over a decade. The density of foes had already been greatly reduced, and the difficulty of breaking through was no longer the hell it had once been.
This punitive expedition had been long in the making.
After the council, Levi stepped through a Nether Portal, found a Nether Fortress, and spent several months there cutting down Blazes, stockpiling a massive quantity of brewing material. Healing potions were replenished in bulk, enough to sustain a large war.
The council concluded in mid–2997.
By the end of 2997, all preparations were complete.
The following spring, 2998, when the lively New Year's gatherings were done, the winter snows melted, and the branches put out new buds, the army began to muster.
Because they had taken their time preparing, the wanderers who roamed far afield and those guarding their tribal homes had plenty of warning and gathered before the march.
Led by Aragorn, they formed their own legion of more than a thousand to reinforce the host.
This was almost every combat-capable wanderer they could call upon, including many women.
To call it a full mustering of the people would not be wrong.
None were surprised by their decision and action. The Wanderers and Angmar had a blood feud that spanned a thousand years.
Given such a chance, their absence would have been what shocked people.
With their joining, the host grew from ten thousand to eleven thousand. Since talent should not be wasted, Levi named Aragorn the third commander.
"Hold on…"
Just as all was being finalised, Levi narrowed his eyes and looked toward the wanderers' legion.
"What are you hiding from?"
Falodan, who had been trying to lie low and slip out of notice, was promptly hauled forward.
He was not to be underestimated. After his journeys and trials in the East, he had the courage to face a Ringwraith alone and the strength to match any legion champion.
As for experience and tactical sense, Falodan was over one hundred and fifty years old. His fighting career stretched back more than a century. One could fairly call him seasoned.
His life had been full. He had fought on the field for more than a hundred years, served as an instructor in the Roadside Keep barracks, taught in the schools, commanded troops in a siege, and felled a Nazgûl.
Among the wanderers, Falodan's standing was high, second only to Aragorn.
It would have been a waste not to give such an elder something serious to do.
So he was appointed to fill the vacant post of legion commander in the Wanderers' legion, a result everyone seemed to approve.
On that appointment, Levi said Falodan had no objection.
"This time we are ready."
"March."
Everything began to move in order.
Angmar's final day was drawing near. It would face a reckoning, and the hidden threats within would likely be ended by this campaign.
Once the host had set out, the cities seemed a little less bustling.
Some might think Roadside Keep and the City of Water were left thinly guarded. Yet if anything chose this moment to move against them, it would discover that more troops stood within their walls than had marched out.
That was Levi's caution. Whether on offence or defence, neither arm would be left wanting.
Even if they suddenly had to meet another army like the one that had stormed out of Moria decades before, fifteen thousand strong, the two cities could handle it together, even without Levi and without calling in reinforcements from elsewhere.