Chapter 60: Ramas Anche

There was still no dawn in the sky to penetrate the dark clouds, and the dense volcanic ash blocked the arrival of sunlight, and in this gray hour, Faramor was leading the soldiers who were willing to follow him to evacuate towards the last layer of protection outside Minas Tirith, Ramas Anche, which was their destination.

Theosgillias was lost, as everyone expected. Despite such a disparity in combat conditions and combat power, the warriors of Gondor did their best to inflict some harmless losses on their enemies, and under Zhao Mian's estimates, the enemy probably lost a force of about 500 men, and probably more wounded, and in the process of marching without considerable medical conditions, this casualty index may be further expanded- But more than two hundred warriors have fallen forever on the banks of the Anduin River, where their blood and glory will remain forever, along with their armor and sword.

The traps that had been laid down before the battle began, the rangers from the Sunset Window used their wits and hands to slow down the enemy's march, and the huge orc army was thrown into chaos on the road, and from time to time someone in the ranks fell into a deep pit and dropped his name on the arrow at the bottom of the pit, or he was caught in his ankle by a little trap, and was scarred by a stone after tripping over the friendly army behind him. In the end, the enemy commander had to let the trolls push the heavy logs at the front of the line to clear the annoying traps - but this was exactly what Zhao Mian had calculated at the beginning, even with the tall trolls, the heavy wood was still not something that could be easily pushed.

Compared to the orc army that was held back by the trap, the warriors of Gondor were not highly motivated, but under the leadership of the rangers, the path of retreat was smooth sailing. In the middle of the silent march of the warriors, Faramir was discussing something with his men—the two warriors around him offered their opinions from time to time, but in the end they were still in the queue under Faramo's words. Those two warriors Zhao Mian had seen before, two of the three warriors that Faramir had brought back to Minas Tirith, and the remaining one had fallen on the banks of the Anduin River in the orc counterattack.

Zhao Mian led his war horse to follow the back of the team, and the soldiers walking in front of him turned their heads from time to time to look at him with awe, and then continued to walk forward under the impetus of their comrades. In the pre-dawn battle, Zhao Mian was the last to retreat from the battlefield. By that time, the evacuated party had left Osgillias a not too close distance, and all the warriors who could be gathered together had gathered, and the rest were those who had fallen on the banks of the river. But it was at such a moment that suddenly there were no shadows in the sky, the darkness receded from everyone's faces, the light shone from behind the warriors of Gondor, and among the ruins of Osgilias, countless trolls who had just landed on the riverside were forever transformed into vivid statues on the sands by the river. The warriors looked back in amazement, their eyes pierced with a long-lost light, but in their sight, a figure on a war horse crashed out of the ruins—with a body of blood and bricks and stones.

Zhao Mian squinted into the darkness, and in his field of vision, which was much wider than the others, a high wall showed its appearance in the darkness, and that was the outer wall of Ramas Anche, Minas Tirith. The wall stretched thirty miles from the foot of the hill and then turned back again, encompassing the plains of Paliano, the richest land in the Anduin Valley. The wall had a twelve-mile-wide opening in the northeast corner, farthest from the royal gates, overlooking a large flat area by the river, where extremely strong fortifications had been built. In that area, majestic gates were built to guard the Osgillias ferry and the bridge across the river. At the southwest corner, the outer wall was only three miles away from the royal city, where the Anduin River turned west around Aminya, south of Isirion, and the wall was built on the river's edge, where the wharf and harbour of Haronder were located, and where ships from the southern fiefdoms were moored.

Soon, the gates of the wall opened, and under the watchful eye of Faramir, the warriors, who had just experienced a battle, walked into the wall, a little tired, where there were warm beds, delicious food, and even wine from the orchards of the plains of Paliano, the jewel-red wine that would bring the warriors the most rest.

The line was not long, and the last warrior quickly entered the gate, and Zhao Mian also walked to Faramir's side, but the tall son of Dinethor did not look at him, his gaze crossed Zhao Mian's shoulder, and looked straight into the deep darkness - as if his gaze had pierced the darkness and saw the footsteps of the enemy that was slowing but not stopping.

"We didn't have much time to buy, at most the enemy would arrive at this gate by noon. Zhao Mian stopped beside Faramo, let go of the reins in his hand, and the war horse man stood up and neighed and disappeared in front of the others, "Take advantage of this time to take a break, although you are stronger and more extraordinary than other warriors, but if you fall on the eve of victory because of exhaustion, it is not a thing worth singing." ”

"But if my death can be exchanged for Gondor's victory, then this is a good deal. Faramir withdrew his gaze into the darkness, but instead of looking at Zhao Mian, he turned his head straight away, holding the reins of his horse and stepping into the outer wall.

Shaking his head, Zhao Mian entered the lamas Anche, and not far in front of him, walking was not so much holding the reins of the horse as the horse dragging his Faramor with the reins. Zhao Mian exhaled softly, in this dark moment, this man seems to have become a banner, under this banner, there are many warriors who are swaying or planning to spill their blood, the flagpole of this flag is stained with the blood of warriors and the stench of orcs, but at the top of that flagpole, the flag is still full of its own color in the wind.

"Kara-Kara-" The sound of the roulette wheel spinning came from behind Zhao Mian, it was the warriors defending the city wall who were closing the open gate, Zhao Mian turned around, and from the gap in the slowly closing gate, Zhao Mian saw that the sky in the distance had lit up with the color of flames. It was a fire from industry and the abyss, the crimson flames illuminated the plain covered by dark clouds, like the light of the fire slowly approaching the human race, a breeze swept across Zhao Mian's cheeks, and the smell of blood and steel seemed to carry the earth-shattering war cry into his nostrils. Zhao Mian took a breath, turned his head and continued to follow Faramir into the darkness on the other side.