"Okay, here we are, the starting point of our journey—Laolin Road!" Roland said to Balin.

"I hope the journey down here will be smooth..." Balin muttered a few words with his beard twitching a few times.

"There are quite a few magical beasts here! The scouts we sent out have seen flying dragons here! Maybe flying dragons have settled here." Omsk said solemnly.

"There is indeed the breath of dragons here, which should be the lower-level wyvern lineage! If my investigation was correct, there should be an ice-attribute wyvern here!" Caslo continued.

"Oh! Turin! I don't want to face the dragon clan in my life! Sorry, Knight Kaslo, I don't mean to target you." Balin shrugged his shoulders, his snow-white beard shaking.

"It's alright, Your Highness. Does Your Highness need me to have Cardo unleash his dragon might to intimidate this flying dragon?" Caslo turned and looked at Roland.

The dragon clan is a clan with a strict hierarchy. The aura of the upper dragon clan has an absolute deterrent effect on the lower dragon clan. Dragons that can truly fight across levels are absolutely rare. After all, the suppression in the bloodline is enough to destroy most of the strength of the lower dragon clan.

"No, don't try to scare them off and end up attracting something messy," Roland said helplessly, holding his forehead. He wasn't kidding. What if he got "too lucky" and attracted a Behemoth... Yes, the kind that could tear apart a dragon with its bare hands, the totem of the Orcs' faith. God only knew what kind of beasts were in the dark forest that connected to the Misty Mountains.

"Alright." Kaslo nodded in agreement. Having become a dragon rider, he had also learned about the dragon race's natural enemy—the Behemoth—through the memories passed down by his own dragon. Though they'd lost their powerful magical abilities, Behemoths had evolved physiques so formidable they'd drive most dragons to despair. Even the most common Behemoth could rival the monsters of the Holy Dragon Clan in melee combat. As for the most noble Golden Behemoth... I hope you don't encounter it up close... After all, many dragons have been torn apart by Behemoths.

"But we still have to be careful and be vigilant. Don't let those unclean things get to us." Roland said solemnly.

"Indeed, there are undead people here!" Balin also fell silent. The undead people are definitely a heavy topic. Once they are given the opportunity to form an undead disaster, even the most powerful kingdom will have to pay a heavy price.

"A small number of wandering undead are nothing to be afraid of. What I'm afraid of is the necromancer!" Omsk clenched the spear in his hand. The Light and Shadow Knight has a natural advantage in fighting against this kind of creature, but facing the necromancer with many tricks up his sleeve, it would be a headache for a long time.

"I hope you have a safe journey. I only want the battle to take place in Khazad-dûm. Fighting here is too depressing." Balin shook his beard and carefully raised the steel battle axe on his shoulder.

"Indeed, the terrain here is not conducive to our fighting... This is the battlefield for rangers!" Roland looked around and nodded.

"This place is in ruins again. We can't find the way we came here." Caslo shook his head in disappointment. When they first came here, they had opened up a road that was passable enough. Now, weeds, shrubs and other things have covered up the traces of the past.

"It's normal, isn't it? Time can erase all traces... just like our glory!" Balin whispered helplessly with tears in the corners of his eyes.

"So cheer up! This is the perfect time to regain your glory!" Roland patted Balin's broad shoulders in comfort. The facts proved that they had indeed regained their glory, but... they simply failed to protect it. Although Balin, King of Moria, had reigned for a short time, he had left a significant mark in the history of the dwarves.

…

"Shield wall!" With a loud shout, the Lagran Royal Guards smashed their heavy shields into the ground one after another. The tightly connected heavy shields were connected into one through fighting spirit. In an instant, a towering shield wall rose up, blocking the team behind.

"What elite warriors! They are as well-trained as the Iron Guard!" Balin exclaimed in admiration. In fact, the Royal Guards of Raglan lived up to his praise. Their eliteness was so great that even the most demanding Dwarf infantry had to admit defeat. The only ones who could be compared with them were probably the Dwarf Iron Guards. However, with the fall of the Lonely Mountain Kingdom, the last Iron Guard also disappeared in the flames of Smaug... In the countless years since then, the Dwarves have never seen infantry that could be compared with the Iron Guards.

"What's going on?" Roland asked as he dismounted from his horse. The sudden rise of the shield wall made him inexplicably uneasy.

"I don't know. Our vanguard has sent a danger signal. The Rangers of Lordaeron have already set off. They will bring us first-hand news, whether it is good or bad!" Omsk held up his shield and stared at the front.

"I hope nothing unexpected happens. We can't be dragged here. It's too unsafe. We are surrounded by all kinds of crises such as orcs and monsters!" Roland said solemnly.

"Don't be impatient, Your Highness. There will be news soon." Kaslo comforted him, and at the same time, his mouth was close to the dragon flute in his hand. No matter what happened, he would protect Roland's safety at the first time. As for the rest of the people... Kaslo believed that Omsk, a sixth-level hero, could take good care of them.

"What happened?" Roland couldn't help but ask after seeing the black and red bloodstains on the returning Lordaeron Ranger's body.

Everyone's eyes were focused on these rangers. They wanted to know what was in the jungle that they could not see. After all, for humans, all fear comes from the unknown.

"It's a troll! Yes, that kind of troll!" said the ranger captain after taking a breath.

"Trolls? Those things haven't become extinct yet?" Kaslo asked in surprise. After all, trolls and orcs were not of the same faction. Trolls and real orcs were allies, while orcs and trolls were enemies. It was surprising that there were trolls in the dark forest where orcs roamed.

"That's right! We won't make a mistake. The accuracy of those javelins is terrifying! If it weren't for our thick inner armor, at least a few brothers would have been left behind." The ranger captain said with lingering fear. He was still afraid now. Fighting with a troll pitcher in the jungle was the second worst thing after fighting with an elven ranger.

"How many people are there? How is the battle going?" Omsk asked calmly.

"Twelve trolls! A standard troll hunting party! Although we wiped them all out, we can predict that there are more behind! There is at least a troll tribe here! I just don't know how big it is!" The ranger captain analyzed. Trolls usually act in groups, and a twelve-man hunting party is the most basic combat unit of the troll tribe. Usually, twelve troll pitchers are enough to bring devastating blows to the same number of enemies.

"We can't stay here anymore. We have to pass through this area quickly. Everyone has to bear with it today. We can't stop to rest for the night!" Omsk frowned. The appearance of a standard troll hunting team was definitely like a sword hanging over their heads, making everyone unable to sleep. In comparison, what was more terrifying than the trolls' spears was the night raids that the trolls were best at.