"Welcome home! Lance , and all the brave and fearless warriors of Zaltarion!" Rynar stood at the city gates, welcoming his returning expeditionary troops.
"Thank you for your welcome, Your Highness. Before I report, please allow me to introduce our new member—Nina Bohn!" Lance smiled as he introduced the young mage girl they had rescued.
"A naturally awakened mage?" Dylan suddenly appeared out of nowhere.
"Gods! Where did you come from? You scared me half to death!" Lance was so startled he nearly jumped, and even Rynar's eyelids twitched involuntarily.
"Decent talent! Still young enough—there's a slim chance she could reach the sixth tier, though the odds are low.
A pity she was delayed! If she had been trained from childhood, she might have had a fifty percent chance at reaching the sixth tier…"
Dylan sighed with regret. It was rare to come across a promising spellcaster, yet this one was completely untrained, lacking even the most basic foundation.
"Where did you find her?" Rynar was rather impressed by Lance's ability to bring back a mage just from a routine trip.
...
"Oh! Those ignorant fools deserved to die!" Before Rynar could even speak after Lance's explanation, Dylan exploded in fury. Since when had noble mages been treated like livestock, slaughtered at will? The thought of it made his blood boil with rage.
"It was indeed excessive, but we can't entirely blame them. The common folk, having no knowledge of the supernatural, naturally fear such powers," Rynar consoled him.
"And this is?" Lance eyed Nyx, who stood close to Rynar, her manner intimate.
Though he had no desire to interfere in his king's personal preferences, as Rynar's loyal subject, he certainly did not want his liege to be bewitched by some seductive woman of dubious origins.
"This is the Grand Duchess of Nyx! My fiancée!" Rynar declared with a happy smile, holding Nyx close.
"There is no more Grand Duchy of Nyx—only the Kingdom of Zaltarion now," Nyx chuckled softly, linking her arm with Rynar's, though a hint of sorrow flickered in her eyes.
"Apologies, Your Grace. I meant no offense," Lance, ever perceptive, immediately realized his misstep and quickly offered his apologies.
"Greetings, Baron Lance! I am Apophis Breo, heir to the Lion of Kings' Landing lineage—though currently without title." Apophis Breo gave a respectful nod in greeting.
"Greetings, noble heir of the Lion of Kings' Landing! May you wield your sword to protect Zaltarion's plow as your ancestors once did! I trust you will restore the glory of your house!" Lance flattered, utterly astonished.
So, the Lion of Kings' Landing lineage still had a direct descendant? That was shocking news! When the royal family was wiped out, only the scattered remnants of noble bloodlines had survived.
That the royal guardians of the Lion of Kings' Landing had not perished alongside the monarchy was unexpected indeed.
"The kingdom cannot afford to grant him a duke's title right now. We are too weak; we simply don't have the resources to support another duke," Rynar explained apologetically.
Lance immediately understood Rynar's meaning. Just moments ago, he had been puzzled as to why the heir of such a prestigious lineage remained untitled.
Now, it was clear—ordinarily, the Lion of Kings' Landing family held an inherited and actively governed duchy. But now?
The kingdom's resources were so scarce that they probably didn't even measure up to a single earldom of their former golden age.
"Now, tell me the results of your mission. Was Jessiava safely delivered? Did you meet the Regent of Gondor?" Rynar asked, recalling the task Lance's group had undertaken.
"Forgive me, Your Highness, but I failed in my mission," Lance sighed.
"Jessiava… didn't make it?" Rynar was stunned. Had they really managed to get the Goblin King killed?
"No, no, no! We successfully escorted him to the border between Gondor and Rohan, but we were ambushed by a large force of roaming Orcs. In the battle to hold them off, we lost track of him. For the sake of my men's safety, I chose to return. Fortunately, we suffered no casualties on the way back," Lance explained.
"Orcs are getting restless! Even the Black Knights are starting to move again! It seems Sauron is on the verge of returning," Rynar sighed.
If even Gondor and Rohan were being infiltrated by Orcs, no wonder that sixty years later, Sauron's armies would sweep into Gondor as if marching through an open field.
"Darkness is coming, Your Highness. We must prepare in advance!" Dylan cast a worried glance southward, toward Mordor. He could only hope the Dark Lord wouldn't concentrate his main forces in the north—the Nazgûl were not something the northern realms could withstand.
"Yes. This summer, I will work with the Dwarves to reopen Moria. At least that way, we'll have a direct link to the Shire and Rivendell for reinforcements," Rynar said, rubbing his temples.
"More allies are always a good thing! At least Rivendell's Elven Rangers can be relied upon," Omsk nodded.
The reputation of the Elven Rangers was well-known, and many among Rivendell's rangers had fought in the Last Alliance.
Even their lowest-tier warriors were third-tier professionals—such a powerful reinforcement force was too good to pass up.
"The men of the Shire… should be dependable, right?" Caslow rubbed his nose in uncertainty. The Shire was a peaceful paradise, one of the last untouched sanctuaries in Middle-earth. He seriously doubted their combat abilities.
"But we can always trust the Hobbits!" Rynar grinned at Caslow, recalling the steadfast and pure-hearted Hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, who had left a strong impression on them.
"Oh, please! Halfings make good cooks, but warriors? Don't make me laugh!" Dylan scoffed, utterly unconvinced by the small folk. Without any physical advantages or spellcasting talents, the fact that they had survived in Middle-earth at all was nothing short of divine intervention.
"Inform the kitchens—I'm hosting a feast tonight to welcome our warriors home!" Rynar commanded the servants behind him in a loud, joyous voice.
"Oh, merciful Prince, I am eternally grateful for this! We've eaten so much hard bread we're about to throw up!
At our worst, we were down to roasted flour just to fill our stomachs!
The eastern regions of Rohan are seeing mass migrations—the Orcs have already begun to spread their influence! Supplies were scarce! There were times when even gold couldn't buy food!"
Lance nearly wept. Who could understand the frustration of holding money but having nothing to purchase?
"You've endured much! Tonight, treat yourselves well!" Rynar patted Lance's shoulder, moved by the sight of this loyal noble, weary from hardship.
As he watched the returning soldiers enter the city—ragged, exhausted, and malnourished—Rynar couldn't help but feel relieved that Lance had not taken more men on this journey.
If he had, many would have starved to death on the way.
It was a stark reminder of how dire the situation in Middle-earth had become.
This was merely the aftermath of the Battle of the Five Armies, and already the Orcs were this active! The seeds of the War of the Ring, sixty years later, had long been sown.
"Inform Lulong Pass to maintain the highest state of vigilance! I don't want to find out about an Orc raid only when they're already at the gates of Riverguard!" Rynar ordered.
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