"Crackle!" The soft glow of the fire warmed the surrounding tents. Many alert dwarves were so cold that their noses were running. From time to time, someone raised the wine jug at their waist and took a big gulp. Everyone was staring with wide eyes, searching. After all, those terrifying troll spearmen were able to send the unprepared heavy armored troops to the eternal land. The great King Roland almost proved this with his own hands.

"Will they come?" Ou Li wiped his nose and turned to look at Ou Yin beside him.

"God knows, but seeing that King Roland's subordinates are taking this very seriously, it should not be groundless!" Floin came over, unscrewed the wine flask at his waist and poured the warm dwarven liquor into his mouth.

…

"Dragon God! Is it okay for them to drink like this?" Several Lordaeron rangers who were sitting on guard in the treetops said helplessly after smelling the aroma of wine wafting from the camp.

"God knows, I just hope they won't be unable to swing their battle axes soon..." A ranger rubbed his red nose.

"Okay, keep quiet! Be alert! We are not here to chat! Always pay attention to the movements around you. It's already late at night! The trolls should be making some moves!" At this time, the captain of this team of rangers spoke in a deep voice.

In an instant, the group of people who were chatting and joking became quiet. They were the outermost line of defense of the camp and also the most important one.

…

"Sir, why don't you take a rest?" Seeing that Roland was still awake in the middle of the night, Caslo couldn't help but stir the charcoal fire in the brazier and asked.

"Damn it! If you get beaten by those bastards, you'll know! Am I unwilling to rest? I'm in pain!" Roland cursed in a low voice.

"Ah! That's a pity. I haven't experienced this before..." Caslo said blankly, looking a little too honest.

"I'm so..." Roland was speechless. Although Kaslo's words seemed to be fine, why did he sound so uncomfortable? It seemed like there was a lot of sarcasm hidden in them?

"Crash!" The door curtain was lifted and Omsk walked in holding a sword.

"Hey! How about coming here to warm yourself by the fire and get rid of the cold, brave boy? Our guests haven't arrived yet?" Roland teased. The low temperature at night had already covered Omsk's armor with a layer of light white frost.

"Your Highness, you are joking... But those black skins are still not moving." Omsk shook his head and sat beside the brazier.

"Let our people be alert, but also keep warm, it's still very cold at night!" Roland said, looking at Omsk's armor.

"Your Highness, please rest assured. I have already notified everyone." Omsk nodded.

"The second half of the night is almost over, and there's still no movement from the trolls? Could it be that they're not coming?" Kaslo scratched his head and yawned.

"Oh, I hope they come soon, finish the battle sooner and settle down sooner, otherwise we will have to live in fear all the way." Omsk frowned. Compared to the trolls rushing up to attack like a swarm of bees, he was more worried about the guerrilla harassment of those things. If such a thing really happened, then he should consider persuading His Highness Roland to return home. After all, the Kingdom of Lagran did not have enough lives to fill this bottomless "pit".

"Indeed, compared to the spear right in front of us, the bow and arrow hidden in the dark is more difficult to guard against!" Roland nodded.

"Just wait, there will be a result!" Caslo lit the brazier, wrapped himself in a blanket and leaned against it.

…

"Shasha~" The swaying bushes in the forest attracted the attention of a Lordaeron ranger squatting on a treetop.

"What is that?" The ranger who discovered the abnormality narrowed his eyes and tried to identify it, but the longbow in his hand was unconsciously drawn.

"Squeak~" The teeth-grinding sound of plucking the strings is clear to everyone in the silent night.

"Bang!" With the sound of the bowstring trembling, a steel arrow whizzed into the depths of the forest.

"Ah!" A dull and shrill roar suddenly sounded, and it was obvious that the arrow hit something.

"Enemy attack! Damn it! They are coming! Be alert!" The Lordaeron ranger on guard roared at the top of his lungs, then seemed to remember something and quickly stepped on the branches to swing away from the big tree.

"Damn, duh~" A series of wooden spears pierced the tree trunk fiercely. If the ranger hadn't left this place, he would have become a specimen nailed to the tree by now... (No way, no way! Does anyone still believe that a ranger's leather armor and mail can withstand the powerful and heavy spears?)

"Damn it! They are coming! Fight back! Shoot them!" A squad leader of the Lordaeron Rangers stood up and led his rangers to desperately snipe at the incoming trolls, but it was obvious that they were outnumbered and could only slow down the trolls' advance.

"The camp should have received the news! Our mission is accomplished! Brothers, retreat!" The ranger captain looked at the surging "tide of trolls" and shouted at his subordinates.

…

"Oh my god! I just closed my eyes! What happened?" Roland, who had just fallen asleep, was suddenly picked up! That's right! They picked him up, and as Roland tried to open his sleepy eyes, something was frantically put on him. Roland felt that it was probably armor by touch...

"Your Highness! The trolls are attacking! The rangers of Lordaeron are blocking them from the outside, but they are too strong and they won't be able to hold out for long. Omsk and I have to go and set up defenses! Take care of yourself, Your Highness!" The curtain of the tent was lifted by Kaslo, and a cold wind rushed in. Roland shivered and his consciousness slowly returned to his body.

"The trolls are coming? Dragon God! Quick! Put on my armor!" Roland woke up instantly, grabbed the plate armor that the servants were tinkering with, and put it on himself at a speed that stunned everyone.

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"Oh! My God! Look! Look! The great King Raglan! The speed of putting on armor is comparable to that of the Purple Lightning Dragon. Are you so afraid of death?" The elf dragon raised his head and said lazily.

"Get out! You're blocking my way! I don't have any dragon scales on me!" Roland kicked the Smurf blocking his way away, grabbed the Aegis Eliar and the Dragon Slaying Sword and rushed out.

"Tsk! Trolls? What kind of deterrent power do those ants have? Look at how terrified you are..." The Smurf, with arrogance written all over his face, flapped his wings in dissatisfaction and flew to Roland's hammock, closing his dragon eyes again.

…

"What's the situation?" Roland, looking a little pale, came to the front of the battle.

"King Roland, thank you for your help!" Balin sighed.

"It's okay! We'll have to clean up these things sooner or later." Roland shook his head.

"The situation is like this now. Alarms are ringing all around. It looks like they want to besiege us! I've asked everyone to come out and deploy defenses. The front gate of the camp is guarded by the royal guards, and the back is in the hands of the Dorwinian heavy swordsmen and the city guards. Believe me, those crappy wooden spears will never be able to break through the Dorwinian heavy swordsmen's defenses, and the city guards will tell you the price to pay with their crossbows and javelins. The remaining left and right directions will be defended by the dwarves and the retreating rangers. I believe they can handle it all." Omsk quickly explained to Roland.

"Sir Balin! Any objections?" Roland turned around and asked.

"Of course not. Your subordinates have made good arrangements." Balin agreed.

"That's it! Let's meet the enemy here!" Roland felt a surge of pride as he watched the human Great Wall formed by teams of heavily armored soldiers. Trolls? What cats and dogs?