As soon as the massive worms broke through the stone, an army of orcs began to crawl out of the gaping holes in the earth — vast, countless, and ready to burn everything in their path. In the front lines already stood Alex, GIR, MIMI, and Stitch. Behind them, the dwarven army formed ranks, led by Dain and Thorin. Thorin stood beside Alex, gripping his sword tightly. Further back, clad in gleaming golden armor, stood the elves — the army of the Woodland Realm, ready for battle.

King Thranduil was still processing the words spoken earlier. He couldn’t deny that if the orcs weren’t stopped here and now, their path would lead straight into the forests of his kingdom — and then, nothing would remain. He looked at his warriors, at the impending battle, and tried to make the only right decision.

Meanwhile, Alex’s girls also stepped onto the front lines. They were used to fighting by his side — shoulder to shoulder, in the heart of the most dangerous battles. And now, only one thing truly concerned them — the chance to finally stretch their legs. After all, as Alex had said the day before, the orc army was truly massive.

Alex removed the weapons case from his back, adorned with a red rose. Thorns wrapped around it like vines. Saya, Koko, and Yuriko immediately began coordinating the girls’ actions. Those who preferred firearms, under Saya and Koko’s command, moved toward the city of Dale — to hold the orcs at the stone bridge. Against dense enemy ranks, bullets were like an atomic bomb dropped on an anthill.

Thanks to training with Alex and their own skills, the girls swiftly crossed the valley and took positions at Dale’s bridge. Only the Valkyries remained on Erebor’s walls — they weren’t planning to intervene without a direct order from Alex. As before, the goddesses preferred to stay out of mortal conflicts, but Freya and Brunhilde kept a watchful eye on the younger ones — especially Valery, Jinx, and Nyarko, who might try to sneak off and join the fight.

Erina, Alice, and Hisako, even under the influence of magic calming their minds, couldn’t help but be amazed by the scale of the orc army arriving at Erebor.

“Freya! I’m counting on you!” Alex shouted from the front row.

“As you wish, my love,” came her melodic voice, echoing through the valley like the soft chime of bells.

Freya instantly understood what Alex wanted from her. Her silvery hair began to glow softly — she was bestowing a blessing upon the warriors. All who heard her voice felt both magical power and a mix of calm and determination. Only Alex’s family was used to her divine beauty by now.

At the same time, Gandalf stood among the ranks of men, staring at the approaching horde of orcs and hoping they could win the battle — or at least hold the line, stop the enemy from burning these lands. But suddenly…

“Bilbo! Where do you think you’re going?!” Gandalf exclaimed, grabbing the hobbit by the shoulder.

“I have to be near my friends. I may not be a warrior, but I can help. I’m a hobbit — which means I’m very sneaky,” Bilbo replied with a spark of determination in his eyes.

Gandalf opened his mouth to argue but fell silent, feeling a sharp shift in the air. His eyes darted around — something was happening. He instinctively looked toward the walls of Erebor — to where Alex’s girls were standing. His gaze stopped on Freya — her silvery hair shone as if the Moon herself had descended to earth. Gandalf didn’t even realize at first that his mouth had fallen open in awe.

Thranduil, too, felt the change and, as if on cue, turned in the same direction. He saw the woman with the shimmering hair.

“Gandalf, what is it? Why are you looking around like that?” Bilbo asked.

“My dear Bilbo… It seems we’ve been blessed by a god… or rather, a goddess. I can’t believe the divine have truly come to these lands,” Gandalf muttered, not taking his eyes off Freya.

“You mean Lady Freya? But she’s Alex’s wife. Why are you calling her a goddess?”

“Because she is a goddess, Bilbo. The one who just gave us all a blessing before the battle. It’s… incredible.”

Gandalf shifted his gaze to Alex, who stood at the front, and suddenly realized just how unusual—and dangerous—the company Thorin had taken in. And not just for their enemies…

Meanwhile, Alex was looking up — at the mountain where Azog commanded. He pointed him out to Thorin.

“You’ll still have time to get to him, Thorin. But for now, take this. You are Thorin Oakenshield. So be him,” said Alex, handing him a massive wooden shield.

Thorin took the shield and immediately sensed something special about it.

“Thank you… But it’s unusual. The wood… it feels alive.”

“Because it’s made from an oak that grew for over a thousand years,” Alex said with a slight smile. “Let it serve you as faithfully as your name serves this land.”

Thorin looked at the oak shield that Alex had handed him and couldn’t hide his amazement. The shield wasn’t just a relic — it had been carved from an oak tree that had grown for over a thousand years. Alex smirked as he watched Thorin’s and the other dwarves’ reactions, while the girls exchanged surprised glances, eyebrows raised.

“Since when does he hand out items from his collection?” flashed through their minds.

But the moment they caught sight of the satisfied smile on Alex’s face, everything became clear — he was simply in a good mood.

Alex shifted his gaze to the orc army, now marching out of the gaping rifts in the ground and forming into battle ranks. Then he looked again at the mountain, where Azog loomed over the battlefield. A smug grin played on the orc commander’s face — as if this alliance of dwarves, elves, and men was nothing more than a herd come willingly to slaughter.

Alex smirked. He could ask Rikku right now for one precise shot, and the army would be left without a leader… But no. This was Thorin’s task. His vengeance. All Alex had to do was help him reach Azog.

Leaning on the weapon case entwined with artificial thorns and a crimson rose, Alex watched the unfolding scene. Thanks to the blessing of war granted by Freya, the warriors felt no fear or hesitation. The entire army was ready to fight to the end.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” said Renka suddenly, nodding at the case, “what’s that new trinket of yours?”

“Huh? This?” Alex grinned. “Made myself a new toy in my spare time. Freshest project. Meet: my Scarlet Queen. Heh… my latest masterpiece.”

He pressed a button, and the case’s lid popped open.

Inside rested a sword. At first glance — a massive grossmesser, resembling an enormous combat knife. But its uniqueness lay in the handle, which resembled a motorcycle grip. A twist of the handle activated the Exceed system, injecting a flammable substance along the blade, drastically boosting the power of its strikes. The mechanism could charge up to three times, unleashing it in one devastating blow or a rapid series of flaming attacks.

Alex had crafted the sword to precisely replicate the original. Every part functioned flawlessly.

“You named it after me?” came the voice of the Red Queen, standing nearby in her YoRHa battle gear.

Alex opened his mouth to reply… and froze. How did she even come to that conclusion? The names weren’t even remotely similar. But before he could say a word, Red nodded smugly — the answer was obvious to her. A smirk instantly spread across her lips as she turned triumphantly toward White.

White tried to ignore the gesture, but for some reason, a flicker of irritation flared up inside her.

Alex drew the Scarlet Queen from the case and drove the blade into the ground, twisting the accelerator several times. Flames burst from the vents, engulfing the edge in fire. Everyone stared at the weapon in awe — the girls understood: Alex had once again created something truly destructive.

At that moment, the sounds of orc war horns echoed across the valley. A furious roar swept through the field, and the orcs began to growl loudly, banging their weapons on the ground and armor, trying to intimidate their allies.

Alex slung the Scarlet Queen over his shoulder.

“A sharp surge of noradrenaline detected,” came the calm voice of the Red Queen, assessing the battlefield.

“Those who survive… will envy the dead,” Alex said quietly but coldly. His voice echoed through the valley, raising the fighting spirit of elves, dwarves, and men alike.

“Hahahaha! Let’s make these scum regret crawling out of their holes!” Juri shouted, grinning ferociously.

“Let’s do this like always. Let none survive…” Alex began, but his phrase was interrupted by an unexpected shout:

“LEEEEERROOOOYYY JENKINNNSSSS!!!” GIR yelled, charging forward with his warhammer raised.

Alex froze with his mouth open. He wasn’t the only one — all eyes turned to the rushing GIR. MIMI and Stitch laughed and quickly followed him.

The orcs reacted instantly, raising their spears in defense. But as soon as GIR reached the right distance, his jump jet activated, propelling him high into the air. Within seconds, he crashed down, and the massive strike of his power hammer against the ground sent dozens of orcs flying in a shockwave.

MIMI smashed into the enemy ranks, using her shield as a battering ram. Orcs scattered from the blow, unable to stop her. And Stitch immediately began a bombardment, launching projectiles while laughing loudly.

“Well then… now it’s my turn,” Alex said with a smirk, tossing the Scarlet Queen sword into the sky.

No one understood why Alex threw his weapon into the air. But moments later, he vanished from sight, and everyone looked up. High in the sky, Alex appeared, grabbing the handle of the Scarlet Queen mid-flight. Twisting the accelerator, he activated the sword’s mechanism, and it burst into flames. Alex began spinning in the air, turning into a fiery whirlwind, rapidly descending.

When he crashed right into the orc horde, the strike was accompanied by an explosion of flames spreading in all directions. Orcs burned or were thrown back, their bodies igniting and scattering across the valley.

“Hahahaha! I’m next! I won’t let only my husband have all the fun!” Juri screamed and launched forward, her face glowing with a bloodthirsty grin.

She charged ahead like a predator. Every step cracked the ground beneath her. Soon she pushed off the ground, jumped, and struck an Olog-hai with a powerful kick. The giant flew backward, armor and bones rattling.

Chun-Li, her old rival, didn’t lag behind. Leaping, she spun in the air and struck another Olog-hai’s head with full force. Bones cracked, and the giant’s body collapsed, knocking down dozens of orcs.

Alex’s and the girls’ attack was the signal for the battle to begin. It all started with GIR, who was the first to break the waiting tension. He was already in the thick of it, shouting curses and slogans, swinging his power hammer as if scattering orcs through the air.

The dwarven army led by Thorin crashed into the orc ranks, sweeping them away with their momentum. Under the blessing of war from Freya, none of the warriors hesitated. The dwarves fought shoulder to shoulder with their king, fearless, pushing the enemy back farther and farther.

Thranduil realized the time had come and gave the order for the archers to open fire. Elven arrows rained down on the orc army, sowing death from above. Bard led his people toward Dale to take and hold the city.

At the stone bridge, they met the girls who had already taken up defensive positions. Without a word, the girls let the people pass and prepared for battle. Becca pulled out her six-barrel machine gun and aimed it at the enemy with a wild smile. Rika and Revy took sniper positions on the walls. Valmet, Chiquita, Claire, Jill, Ada, Moira, Sherry, and Shino were armed with assault rifles, ready to defend.

Saya, Koko, and Yuriko coordinated actions via drones and radios. Rika and Revy took careful aim at targets marked by Saya. Everything worked like clockwork.

The girls who remained on the walls of Erebor watched the whole war unfold—with elves, dwarves, and Alex with the girls fighting the orc army. Alice, Hisako, and Erina looked on, not quite knowing what to think. Now they understood why war was not a pleasant sight—at every moment, someone died, whether orc, elf, or dwarf.

“So this is what it’s really like,” Erina said quietly, without taking her eyes off the battlefield.

“War is always like that. Where there is victory, there will be the bitterness of loss,” Freya answered calmly.

The three girls nodded, speechless, and turned their gaze back to the battle. Alex was the most noticeable figure on the field. With every swing of the Scarlet Queen, he unleashed flames upon the enemy. The blade sliced through the air, releasing streams of fire, burning orcs or throwing them back with monstrous force.

Riviera was not far behind—her spells incinerated orcs with no less fury. Ice and Tiona fought on the front lines, and Tiona stood out especially: with a wild joy on her face, she swung her guandao, cutting orcs left and right.

Haruhime and Cassandra supported their allies with healing and strengthening spells. Lily simply stormed into the enemy’s midst, turning them into a bloody mist with her strikes. Bella darted lightning-fast between foes, killing them with a single touch. Ryū turned the very wind against the orcs, slicing them like paper with a knife.

Suddenly, a horn sounded again. Part of the orc army split off and headed toward Dale. The girls standing on the stone bridge realized: now it was their turn.

“Hahaha! Finally! I thought my baby and the rest were going to wipe out all the orcs without us. Time to unleash my little one!” Becca said, caressing her machine gun.

“Hahaha! Let’s make hell for them!” came an unfamiliar female voice nearby.

Hearing the strange voice, the girls turned around in unison, forgetting even that a part of the orc army was approaching them. Before them stood a girl with long bright blue hair braided into two pigtails that freely waved in the wind, emphasizing her wild and unpredictable nature.

She wore a tight black top and short shorts adorned with numerous accessories—straps, studs, and chains—giving her a distinctly rebellious look. Blue cloud-shaped tattoos were visible on her body, and she held a pink six-barrel machine gun in her hands. Her face bore a playful, slightly crazy smile, instantly reminding everyone of a certain weapons gremlin from their family.

“Who even are you?” Becca asked, frowning as she stared at the stranger.

“Yay! Mom, it’s me! Your little daughter! Yahoo!” Jinx exclaimed cheerfully, raising her hands in a victorious pose.

The girls exchanged doubtful glances. First, they looked at Becca’s green hair, then at Jinx’s bright blue locks. The colors matched. Then their eyes slid over their faces—equally bold features and identical crazy smiles. Next, their gaze fell on their chests: both small but confident, barely covered. Their outfits were suspiciously similar too: short shorts, a top, and both wielded six-barrel machine guns. Only height gave them away—adult Jinx was about ten centimeters taller than her mother.

“If you’re my little potato… then why are you so grown up?” Becca asked suspiciously, narrowing her eyes.

“Mommy, what kind of questions are those? It’s all magic!” Jinx answered cheerfully, spreading her arms, between which a rainbow arc flickered.

The girls just silently nodded. That was definitely Jinx. No one else would use a rainbow illusion to explain such nonsense—only Alex and his daughters could do that. Becca smirked, understanding that only her little potato could grow up and become a copy of her “cupcake.” Folding her arms over her chest, she looked proudly at her daughter—only one thing spoiled her mood: Jinx was taller. With a dissatisfied click of her tongue, Becca compared her own height to her daughter’s.

“Hehehe… They’re coming. Time to shoot!” Jinx announced, aiming her machine gun at the approaching orcs.

Without waiting for a signal, she opened fire, flooding the bridge with lead while laughing maniacally. Becca, watching her daughter, proudly puffed out her chest and glanced at her friends as if to say, “Well, did you see that? That’s my daughter!” In response, she only met empty, tired looks.

The headache was clearly just beginning. Now they knew: Jinx could become an adult. No one even wanted to imagine how Alex would react when he found out. Then a troubling thought flashed through the girls’ minds: if Jinx could grow like that, perhaps the other little gremlin could too.

With sighs, the girls shifted their gaze back to the battlefield, where Becca and Jinx, mother and daughter, with psychopathic smiles, were pouring lead on the orcs from both sides.

“Maybe we should go back? Those two will clearly hold the bridge,” Valmet said, rubbing her temples.

“I’d agree, but the orcs aren’t going to come only through the bridge,” Claire replied, firing her assault rifle at orcs trying to sneak around, covered by Olog-hai.

Having decided to leave the defense of the bridge to the mother and daughter, the rest of the girls focused on the orcs rushing toward the walls. No one in Middle-earth had ever encountered firearms before—and no one understood how deadly they were. But very soon, the orcs found out.

Meanwhile, Alex fought in the very heart of the battle, sweeping orcs away with a single swing of his Scarlet Queen. His face shone with a wide smile, clearly enjoying the process. He had no idea that his sweet little princess was using growth magic and now, in the form of an adult gremlin, was running across the battlefield with a six-barrel machine gun, turning orcs into mince.

With another strike, the Scarlet Queen cut through the crowd, scattering orcs like ants. Suddenly, Alex noticed an orc riding an Olog-hai, steering the beast straight toward him. A spark of a wild idea flashed in Alex’s eyes: what if he rode that monster and unleashed true chaos?

But before he could get closer, the Olog-hai suddenly stumbled, crashing forward, and sticking out of the back of its head was… a crowbar. Alex raised a surprised eyebrow—and froze.

On the fallen beast’s head stood an adult Nyaruko, with a cheerful smile as she pulled the crowbar out of the skull. Alex froze, then reflexively smashed the head of an approaching orc.

“Nyaruko?!” he breathed, staring at his grown-up daughter.

“Oh, I got spotted! Time to run! Ninja secret technique: The Great Escape from Trouble!” Nyaruko called out happily, swinging the crowbar and knocking orcs left and right as she vanished into the thick of battle.

Alex took a deep breath, watching his daughter run off, behaving like a bloodthirsty fairy of destruction. Instead of magic—crowbar. Instead of spells—the crack of breaking skulls. And all accompanied by gleeful childish laughter.

“NYARUKO! STOP!” Alex roared, his voice sending a shockwave through the air.

The nearest orcs were simply torn into bloody dust. Those a bit farther away were scattered like rags in the wind. The entire field froze for a moment. All eyes turned to Alex, then followed his gaze—to where Nyaruko had disappeared.

His girls fighting nearby also saw the grown-up Nyaruko. They exchanged confused blinks: what the hell was going on?

Meanwhile, on the walls of Erebor, the girls who stayed with the children also heard Alex’s roar. They glanced toward where the children’s group should have been—and saw only crude wooden statues, mimicking Nyaruko, Jinx, Anya, Nobukatsu, Alisa, and Valeri. A moment of silence. Then—realization.

“They escaped. Damn them all…” one of the girls sighed.

Meanwhile, Alex wasted no time and dashed after his runaway daughter. He tore through orcs across the field, shouting without stopping:

“I told you to STOP, you little brat!”

“No! Hehehehe!” came the distant reply, accompanied by the sound of another skull breaking.

Alex’s eye started twitching. He immediately understood what was going on. It was the growing-up spell. He himself sometimes turned into a child—for disguise. But now… now his daughter was using the same magic to wreak havoc on the orcs!

But Nyaruko wasn’t the only one.

Soon Alex spotted a girl with pink hair in a black dress, armed with… something resembling knitting needles. He instantly knew—it was Anya. And now grown up, she methodically slaughtered orcs, using her legs too—Anya easily snapped necks with flying kicks. Spotting her father, she panicked and fled the “crime scene.”

Alex kept scanning the battlefield and, of course, began recognizing everyone else: Nobukatsu was smashing orcs with his bare hands. Alisa mimicked Shigure’s technique, fighting side by side with the master herself. Valeri, with a short shotgun in one hand and a katana in the other, stormed across the field like a hurricane.

His eye twitched again. Everything was clear. The group of little troublemakers had escaped from the girls who stayed in Erebor, and his daughters had used the growing-up magic, and… the whole bunch had gotten themselves right into the thick of the battle. Alex sighed, mentally making a list of punishments.

But now there was a more urgent goal.

“Thorin! Up! After Azog!” he shouted.

Thorin, shielding himself with his shield, blocked an orc’s blow and glanced toward the peak. There, against the backdrop of fire and smoke, stood Azog, watching the fight with a predatory grin.

Thorin nodded. Alex ran up to him, and together they charged through the enemy lines. Seeing their king and Alex moving toward their goal, the dwarves immediately began clearing a path. Alex’s girls also joined in, helping to break through to the summit.

And although inside Alex was boiling with anger at the kids who had run off to war, he decided to unleash all his irritation on one particular albino orc. He already had very specific ideas on how to make Azog suffer.

Advancing forward as the orcs were cleared from their path, Alex and Thorin moved confidently toward their target. Thorin spotted a goat, immediately mounted it, and charged ahead. Alex just smirked and kept running alongside, knocking orcs aside with his body, literally paving the way with his chest.

GIR, MIMI, and Stitch joined the fight as well. They carried shields ahead, running in front of Alex and Thorin, using the shields as battering rams. When the group broke through to the foot of the mountain where Azog stood atop, Alex and Thorin exchanged looks and began climbing upward with their trio of helpers.

GIR, MIMI, and Stitch climbed onto Alex’s body, hanging on and firing their guns as Alex scrambled after Thorin, who confidently climbed the slope, riding his goat.

As they gained height, the battle gradually receded. The sounds of fighting in the valley grew quieter, drowned out only by the wind whistling between the stones.

Reaching the summit, where the ruins of an old watchtower combined with a dam stood, orcs immediately attacked them. However, Alex, Thorin, and their team quickly dealt with them. All orcs were killed except one—the very one who had previously shot Kili in the leg with a poisoned arrow.

“Kill this bastard, then let’s move on to Azog,” Thorin said, shaking blood off his sword.

“Aren’t you curious who he is?” Alex asked with a smirk, stepping on the orc’s neck. “This is the one who wounded your nephew.”

Thorin frowned, looked at the orc, and raised his sword to behead him, but Alex held up his hand, stopping him, and shifted his gaze to the trio—GIR, MIMI, and Stitch. They immediately understood what he wanted. Sheathing their weapons, they rubbed their paws, grabbed the orc’s limbs, and began pulling. A crunch sounded—hands and feet tore off with a snap, black blood splattering.

“If you kill these kinds of creatures—do it with cruelty. Death is mercy. We punish,” said Alex, baring shark-like teeth in a frightening, twisted smile.

Thorin nodded. There was no mercy to be expected from these beings—so why show any to them?

Finishing with that, the team continued searching for a way up. Alex almost missed an ambush: an orc suddenly attacked, but Alex caught its blade between two fingers. At the same moment, GIR fired his bolter into the wall, blasting through the stone and driving a bullet into the head of an orc hiding there.

Soon they reached the summit, where before a frozen waterfall stood Azog, surrounded by his warriors. The albino orc grinned predatorily and gave the order to attack. Alex grabbed the first attacker and tore him in half. The rest of the orcs were quickly slaughtered — only chopped-off limbs and spots of black blood remained on the ice.

“You’ll answer for everything, Azog!” Thorin shouted, pointing his sword at the enemy.

“Thorin… Oakenshield…” growled Azog, smirking.

Alex rolled his eyes.

“Oh, the theatrics again…”

He picked up a shard of ice from the ground and threw it at Azog’s head. The ice hit right on the forehead, and the orc, losing his balance, crashed backward, losing consciousness.

“Thorin, I told you: if you want to settle a score with a sworn enemy, do it hard,” Alex said, pulling an iron rod from his inventory and handing it to Thorin. “Here, take this.”

“What are you planning, wizard?” Thorin asked, taking the rod.

“What else… We’re going to beat him. Until he starts calling for Sauron’s help. Pain and humiliation — that’s what he deserves. Now… it’s time to thrash the albino orc.”

Alex took out a collapsible baton, snapped it open, and it cracked firmly in his hand.

Thorin was at a loss — standing there gripping the rod but not knowing where to start. Alex immediately understood: Thorin needed an example. Without a word, he approached Azog, grabbed the orc by the leg, and dragged him closer to a patch of ice that looked less fragile.

Swinging hard, Alex struck Azog’s knee with the baton. A dull crack sounded — the bone broke like a dry branch. Almost immediately, GIR, MIMI, and Stitch joined in. They had already drawn their batons and, wearing satisfied smiles, began pounding Azog.

Thorin watched as his clan’s sworn enemy was beaten. With every blow, he remembered: fallen kin, burned halls, the disappearance of his father… At some point, he could no longer hold back. Joining the others, he started delivering strikes with all the force that had built up in him over the years.

Alex, Thorin, GIR, MIMI, and Stitch beat Azog’s body with iron rods. Only the dull echo of the blows and the orc’s hoarse cries echoed across the snowy peak. A smile never left Alex’s face — time and again, he healed Azog, not letting him die. He wanted the orc to feel every second of pain. That’s why Azog’s suffering lasted much longer than it otherwise could have.

Thorin put not only strength into every blow but also all the rage he had accumulated over many years. For him, this was not just revenge — it was a cleansing from the shadow that had hung over his kin.

Meanwhile, down below in the valley of Erebor, the battle continued. Thanks to the blessing of war granted by Freya, the warriors of dwarves and elves knew no fatigue. They methodically and mercilessly continued to slaughter the orcs. Despite some losses among the elves and dwarves, the orc army was dwindling at a frightening rate. The army of men moving through the city of Dale was also helping as much as they could, including the girls from his family, relentlessly advancing and turning the battlefield into a graveyard.

At the summit, standing on cracked ice, were Alex, Thorin, GIR, MIMI, and Stitch. Below them lay the mangled Azog. His body was beaten beyond recognition: bones jutting out at broken angles, his ribcage like a collapsed frame, arms and legs twisted unnaturally. Only Alex’s healing magic kept the orc on the edge of life.

“Stubborn bastard,” Thorin muttered, looking at the shattered body. “Now I see how he managed not to die all this time.”

“He would’ve been dead from your blows long ago,” Alex replied calmly, wiping black blood from his hands. “But I kept healing him. Wanted you to really let it all out. Without that, he’d already be just smeared on the ice.”

“So that’s how it is…” Thorin muttered, gripping the bloodied rod in his hand. “I was starting to think this creature was immortal. Well, if you’re done patching him up — then it’s time to finish it.”

Alex shrugged and stepped aside, making way.

Thorin said nothing. He just stared at Azog. There wasn’t a trace of mercy in his gaze — only fatigue, bitterness, and determination. Raising the rod above his head, he gathered all his remaining strength and brought the iron down on Azog’s skull with full force.

There was a crack. The ice beneath the orc’s body shattered. The broken, battered corpse fell into a crevice and disappeared beneath the water.

Thorin stood, breathing heavily. His shoulders trembled — not from the cold, but from release. As if all the evil weighing on him had left with that strike. Alex silently approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was a silent sign of support.

Thorin took a deep breath… and straightened up. As befits a true King under the Mountain.

To be continued…

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep