Inside the city, the Great Eagles found various perches, resting on the silent ruins of Dale. Radagast and Beorn leaped from their backs, heading straight for Gandalf on the wall.
"You've arrived," Gandalf greeted them, offering a nod of respect to the eagles as well.
"From the look of things, I haven't arrived too late."
"You're right. You've come at just the right time, Radagast, and you, Beorn." Gandalf invited the two up onto the battlements, gesturing toward the freshly built stone wall Levi had erected at the foot of the distant mountain. "Our plan just met some obstacles, and you've come to help. The timing is perfect."
"That's good."
"But the situation still doesn't look optimistic," the skin-changer Beorn rumbled, his voice low and serious.
Although Levi and the others had successfully reached Ravenhill, the army outside the wall hadn't diminished at all. They were still trying various siege tactics, and the giant stones flying through the air hadn't stopped. An ordinary wall would have been smashed to rubble several times over by now.
"Trust in Levi. They'll handle it," Gandalf said, his confidence unwavering.
"That human," Beorn murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon. "My wild instincts tell me that if I were to become his enemy, the best choice would be to flee."
"Perhaps he is indeed worthy of trust." Speaking of this, Beorn seemed to remember something. "Radagast, I recall you said you had something important to tell Gandalf."
"Ah, right!" Radagast slapped his forehead. "I was just about to say. Gandalf, I saw an orc army marching down from the northern mountains in the direction of Ravenhill. They're heading for another entrance on the mountaintop."
"Not good." Gandalf frowned, his face etched with worry. "Thorin and the others are in danger."
"What about the human?"
"He's fine."
"But he might not be able to look after everyone." Gandalf paced back and forth, but looking at the orc army tightly blockading the city walls, he had no immediate solution.
"We can go support them," Beorn volunteered, his form tensing for a transformation.
Just then, a horn blew from the orcish command post, and a column from the left flank marched forward to attack.
Gandalf felt the move was strange, almost nonsensical. But the defenders on the wall would not let the opportunity pass.
"Fire!"
Under several volleys of arrows and firework rockets, the advancing contingent was obliterated, with no orcs left standing.
The horn blew again. Another order was issued. A column of orcs retreated continuously, colliding with the formations behind them. Then came the wargs, charging out to snarl at an empty battlefield. Following them was a troll squad ramming the wall, the main army marching chaotically, and the logistics corps stopping their work.
The battlefield was in utter chaos.
"What on earth are they doing?" the people on the city wall muttered, all confused.
"I remember there was a halfling traveling with you. He doesn't seem to be here," Beorn suddenly observed, looking left and right.
"Oh, you mean Bilbo. Isn't he right over there..." Gandalf trailed off, turning to an empty spot by the wall. "Bilbo?"
The old wizard panicked. "Where's Bilbo?"
He hurried to the soldier he had instructed before. "Where is the hobbit I asked you to watch?"
The soldier lowered his head, pointed vaguely, and said: "He's right there."
"Where?!"
"Just... how did he disappear?"
Bard noticed the commotion and walked over quickly. He grabbed the soldier and forced him to look up, revealing two large, swollen black eyes.
"Alfrid?" Bard frowned in disbelief. "Tell me, when did he leave?"
"I'm sorry, my lord. I, I'm not sure," Alfrid stammered.
Gandalf felt a headache coming on. This unlucky fool! He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, ran to the edge of the wall, and shouted at the chaotic battlefield: "You foolish Hobbit, come back!"
However, his shout was destined to be heard only by the few people around him. That hobbit was long gone.
On the other side of Ravenhill, in a place unnoticed by everyone, two light figures leaped on the rocks, continuously climbing upward.
"We must speed up, Tauriel," Legolas said, launching himself to a higher ledge. "I didn't expect the army to have already arrived. We were a step too slow."
"I hope the people here are alright."
When the two elves had arrived at the Lonely Mountain, the army had already surrounded the city wall, depriving them of the chance to enter through the gate. So they had to take another route, relying on their excellent physical condition and elven grace to climb up to the watchtower on the ridge.
"Yes, I hope they're alright," Tauriel murmured, clutching the rune stone given to her by a certain dwarf, her climbing pace quickening.
Legolas saw the change in Tauriel but chose to remain silent. To him, Tauriel was a reliable comrade-in-arms, a sister, and a close friend with a deep bond. He had no other thoughts. Tauriel had, to some extent, filled the familial affection that Legolas had lacked since childhood. It was also because of this that when Thranduil ordered Tauriel's banishment, Legolas chose to leave with her. Watching her fall into an emotional vortex from which she couldn't extricate herself, he had chosen silence, even offering a hint of tacit support. Though he neither understood nor had experienced it, he knew that perhaps this was love, the most important emotion for an elf.
"Bats," Legolas whispered, suddenly grabbing the claw of a large bat and letting it carry him upward. Tauriel, though surprised by this bold move, quickly followed his lead, catching another bat. Only elves possessed the agility and balance for such a feat.
Soon, the two flew to the top of Ravenhill. Finding a suitable landing spot, Legolas took out his dagger, poked the bat's belly, and ended the one-way flight.
An orc horn sounded again, and signal flags were waved.
"Not good, they're starting to attack!" Tauriel said, looking up. "There, that's their command post."
Following the direction she pointed, Legolas looked over. He walked a few steps forward, drew the longbow from his back, eager to strike. There were no orcs nearby. This was a great opportunity for a decapitation!
"Let me see who their commander is," he said, drawing an arrow. "I see..."
His eyes widened in a rare loss of composure.
"It's Levi!"
"Levi?!"
At that moment, Levi was still gleefully operating the command mechanisms, randomly waving the signal flags, having a wonderful time.
"Enough! Stop it!" a furious roar came from behind a watchtower. It was Azog. He finally couldn't hold back anymore and leaped out to stop him.
Of course, there was a reason he dared to show himself. From behind him, large numbers of orcs from Gundabad marched forward in unison, crossing the ruins and rubble to stand on either side of Azog. The army was endless, as far as the eye could see, no less numerous than the one below the ridge. Their source was another road north of Ravenhill. In just a short while, the entire ridge had been completely occupied, packed so densely there wasn't a single gap.
This was the source of Azog's confidence. In fact, if this army hadn't arrived, he might have held back a little longer.
"Now, let me see what you're really capable of!" Azog raised the cruel mace in his hand, pointing it directly at Levi. Even Thorin, who was beside them, was ignored.
"Prepare for battle!" Thorin said in a low voice to the dwarves behind him, gripping his sword. "Levi, if I don't make it back, please tell Bilbo for me that he is a truly qualified warrior and a friend I will always be proud of."
"That's not what you said before. Remember, you were the first to refuse to let him join the battle."
Thorin shook his head, saying no more.
Levi continued: "My suggestion is, if you have something to say, tell him yourself. I'm not your messenger."