The forest of Troll-woods stretched vast and wide.

It spanned more than two thousand square kilometers.

Untouched by any hands of men, the region remained wild and trackless—there were no roads, and travel within was painfully slow.

Kaen and his men, leading their force, took a full two days just to reach the heart of the forest.

Lairon, holding a map, stepped forward and said,

"My lord, five hundred meters ahead is the first Orc sentry post. One thousand meters beyond that lies the entrance to the valley."

Upon hearing this, Kaen responded,

"Our numbers are limited. We'll bypass the sentries and strike the entrance directly from the flank."

"Yes, my lord!"

With five hundred soldiers at their command, and under the guidance of the map, they smoothly avoided the sentries without alerting them.

Before long, they arrived at the top of a sheer cliff, nearly a hundred meters tall. From here, they gazed down into the circular valley below.

What met their eyes was astonishing.

The valley stretched out over at least a hundred square kilometers. Ringed on all sides by towering cliffs as tall as the one they stood upon, the only entrance lay to the south.

Within the basin, the terrain was flat, dominated by towering trees that formed a dense forest canopy.

In the center of the valley shimmered a lake, fed by streams flowing down from the encircling cliffs.

Beside the lake stood a hill. The trees around it had been completely cleared by the Orcs, exposing wide, flat ground.

And there—

Thousands of Orcs were felling trees in full force. Two to three dozen massive trolls—each the size of a small house—were carrying timber toward a cave entrance at the base of the hill.

They were building something.

It looked like the beginnings of a massive underground stronghold.

Kaen immediately began issuing orders.

"Lairon, you'll take a hundred rangers and descend into the valley. Then split into two groups."

"Thirty of you are to cause as much noise and chaos as possible—draw the Orcs' attention, force them to pull troops from the entrance to defend."

"Meanwhile, the other seventy will circle along the cliffs and lie in wait behind the valley entrance. Once you spot the Orcs falling back to reinforce, sound the horn."

"At the sound of the horn, I'll lead the main force in a frontal assault. We'll coordinate from within and without to seize the entrance as swiftly as possible."

"Yes, my lord!"

Lairon's eyes gleamed with confidence. "I can think of ten thousand ways to deal with Orcs."

"Good."

Kaen nodded and added, "Remember, do not linger in battle. Once the objective is achieved, find a safe place to hide. I'll set the entire valley ablaze—we burn it all to the ground."

"Yes, my lord!"

…

One rope after another was thrown down the cliff.

Each one had been prepared in advance.

A hundred agile Dúnedain rangers began rappelling down from the cliff's edge into the valley below.

Kaen, meanwhile, remained above, positioned with fifty heavily-armored infantry, fifty light cavalry, a hundred archers, and two hundred spearmen.

They took up position along a forested hillside to the left of the valley entrance. Thick underbrush and dense foliage concealed their presence.

From here, they could clearly see that the valley's entrance was fortified—giant boulders had been used to build a stone fortress manned by hundreds of Orcs.

Behind the gatehouse sprawled a military encampment—by its size, it housed no fewer than three thousand Orc warriors.

Kaen couldn't help but wonder—what on earth were they guarding here?

What hidden secret inside this valley could compel the Orcs to construct a fortress of this magnitude?

…

Down in the valley, the rangers had reached the ground safely.

Following Kaen's strategy, Lairon divided the hundred into two groups.

Seventy slipped away, hugging the cliffside and heading toward the rear of the valley's entrance, moving like shadows through the forest.

Lairon took the remaining thirty and dashed directly toward the center of the valley.

Just as Kaen had anticipated, the inner forest was thick and covered in snow.

The towering trees, heavy with white frost, drooped beneath the weight. The ground was blanketed in fallen leaves, muffling every step.

Lairon's respect for Kaen deepened.

The plan was precise—genius even.

The Orcs had never considered the possibility of an enemy descending from the vertical cliffs, and so Lairon's group advanced through the woods without encountering resistance.

They spent over an hour navigating around deforested zones, gradually drawing near to the hill by the lake.

Even so, the closest forest cover still lay several hundred meters away.

The clearing in between was wide open. Dozens of Orcs and trolls moved freely, chopping down trees, building, watching.

Sentry towers dotted the area, each manned by alert Orcs scanning the perimeter.

Approaching unnoticed seemed impossible.

Just then, one of the rangers stepped forward.

"Lairon, lord , I'll draw their attention. You use that chance to get closer to the hill."

"And count me in too!"

Not a single Dúnedain feared death. Their resolve made Lairon's heart swell with pride.

There was no time to waste—he did not hesitate.

"Twenty of you, head to the other side and cause a diversion. Don't engage in full combat—just lure them into the woods. Hit and fade."

"I'll take ten men. We'll disguise ourselves in Orc garb and use the chaos to sneak into the cave. Once inside, we'll burn everything."

"That should be noisy enough to trigger a response. When the time comes, sound the horn and we'll all scatter and hide."

"Yes, sir!"

…

Rangers wielded long swords and bows.

The twenty chosen rangers, clad in dark brown cloaks, emerged from the opposite side of the forest.

Drawing their bows, they loosed a volley of arrows toward the Orcs cutting down trees.

"Enemies! We've got intruders!"

An Orc sentry in a nearby tower shouted the alarm—only to be silenced mid-sentence by an arrow to the throat.

But the call had been enough.

The Orcs had noticed.

Hundreds of them bellowed war cries and charged, weapons in hand, toward the rangers.

"Retreat!"

The rangers didn't linger. They melted back into the forest, vanishing into its vastness.

The Orcs gave chase, storming into the trees after them.

Meanwhile, Lairon and his ten rangers picked off a few lagging Orcs and dragged the bodies into the woods.

In moments, they had donned the Orcs' clothing, smearing mud on their faces and bodies to mask their scent and disguise their features.

The Dúnedain had warred with Orcs for generations—they knew the tongue of their enemies well.

They broke from the treeline, sprinting toward the hill while shouting frantically:

"Elves! Elves in the forest!"

"Hundreds—thousands of them! Fully armed!"

From the towers and outposts, the Orcs saw them and didn't suspect a thing.

What's more, their panicked cries sparked fear.

"Elves? From Rivendell?"

"Damn it! What are they doing here?"

"Cursed Elves!"

The words spread like wildfire.

Orc told Orc, who told ten more, until the panic swept through the ranks like a plague.

Within minutes, a great host—no fewer than two or three thousand Orcs—poured out from within the hill, charging in mass toward the forest.

In the chaos, Lairon and his men, still in disguise, slipped through the mayhem and entered the hill's inner cavern.

What they saw inside left them utterly stunned.