Chapter 29

The sky above Shagerion seemed to have been pierced by a gaping hole. Days of torrential rain showed no sign of abating. Bean-sized raindrops pounded the ground with fury, transforming the already muddy soil into a swamp. The river Meereen frequented had long since lost its former gentleness, roaring and swelling into a turbid, raging dragon. The water, carrying mud, broken branches, and even the carcasses of small animals, lashed against the fragile banks, its level rising at a visible rate. Standing in his guest room, Meereen listened to the deafening thud of rain and the roar of the river outside, his heartbeat racing like the surging water. He realized that the opportunity he had long awaited was brewing within this natural disaster.

On this stormy night, a sudden, piercing alarm rang out from the outposts outside Shagerian. A small group of Orc remnants, infiltrating from nowhere, like hyenas scenting carrion, took advantage of the cover of darkness and torrential rain to attack patrols and a supply dump at the edge of the camp. The piercing sounds of fighting, the sharp howls of Orcs, the angry shouts of Elves, and the clang of weapons shattered the silence of the rainy night, causing a considerable commotion in the camp.

Celegorm stood up almost instantly, his eyes, calmed by Meereen's presence, now ignited with a warrior's bloodlust. "Damn Orcs!" he growled, snatching up the swords and bows hanging from the wall. He snarled at the two elven guards assigned to Meereen, "Keep an eye on him! I'll be back soon!" Without even a glance at Meereen, he charged into the pouring rain like a tiger unleashed from its cage. Curufin also trotted out of his tent, his face grim, commanding reinforcements. Instantly, the entire camp's elite guards were mobilized, rushing toward the commotion.

Meereen's heart was pounding so hard it threatened to burst out of his throat. He forced himself to take a deep breath, suppressing the ecstasy and fear that threatened to overwhelm his reason. He glanced at the two guards who remained. The guards had tense expressions, staring warily at the commotion outside the window, their ears twitching slightly, obviously following the battle. The other guard looked a little nervous, his hand holding his spear slightly sweaty, and his eyes flickered between Meereen and the door.

"So... so scary..." Meereen deliberately made his voice tremble, his face looking extremely pale under the dim oil lamp, "Are those Orcs outside? Will they rush in?" He showed the reaction of a frightened human being, curling up slightly.

Seeing him like this, the guards were nervous but also comforted him: "Don't be afraid, Master Celegorm and Master Curufin have gone there personally and will soon deal with those filthy things. We are safe here."

The other guard just glanced at Meereen coldly without saying a word, but his attention was obviously mostly distracted by the battle outside.

Milin knew he couldn't wait any longer. He clutched his stomach, a pained expression on his face. "I...I need to go to the bathroom...It's right behind, very close..." He was referring to a makeshift toilet at the back of the camp, near the swollen river. This was a spot he had spotted during his earlier walk, and it was also a key point on his escape route.

The guard looked at his companion hesitantly. Another guard frowned, obviously feeling that this request was inappropriate, but looking at the painful expression on Meereen's face and the fierce fighting outside, he finally nodded impatiently and gave a few quick instructions in Elvish.

"Follow me, hurry up!" the guard urged, opening the door, and cold rain mixed with strong wind instantly poured in.

Meereen lowered his head and followed the guards, stepping deep and shallow into the raging rain. The rain instantly drenched him, and the biting cold only served to sober him up. They walked towards the makeshift latrine, drawing closer and closer to the roaring river. The deafening roar of the water almost drowned out the distant fighting.

Just a dozen steps away from the toilet, at a place where the river bank had become extremely soft and steep due to days of soaking and erosion by the river water, Milin suddenly slipped, uttered a short scream, and fell towards the turbulent and turbid river.

"Be careful!" The guard was horrified and subconsciously reached out to grab him.

But everything happened too fast, and Milin's body slammed heavily on the muddy and slippery steep slope, and because of inertia, he rolled uncontrollably towards the surging river.

"Help! Help—" Meereen's cries were instantly drowned out by the roar of the massive waves. He felt the cold, muddy water rushing into his mouth and nose, the powerful suction pulling him towards the center of the river like countless hands. He struggled desperately, paddling with his hands and feet, trying to grab anything on the shore, but it was futile. A larger wave suddenly hit, sweeping him completely into the muddy, boiling water.

"Someone fell into the water! Help!" The guard lay on the steep and slippery shore in terror, screaming in vain towards the dark and violent river, trying to find the disappeared figure, but he could not see anything except the rolling waves and floating debris. He was so scared that his face turned pale and he ran back to ask for help.

The other guard's face changed drastically when he heard the shout, and he rushed to the shore. His vision, which was far superior to that of a human, was greatly limited in the violent rainy night and turbid river water. He could only barely catch a vague shadow floating in the waves downstream, and then was swallowed by a huge whirlpool and disappeared without a trace.

"Damn it!" the guard cursed fiercely. He was an expert swimmer, but even he didn't dare enter the river, which raged like a raging beast. The force of the flood was enough to snap trees and sweep away boulders. A human trapped in it would have little hope of survival. He immediately blew a sharp horn for help, but the sound was faint amidst the roar of the rain and floodwaters.

When Celegorm, covered in blood and rain, angrily dealt with the group of blind Orcs and rushed back, he heard the sad news that Meereen had been swept away by the flood.

"What?!" Celegorm's roar nearly drowned out the thunder. He rushed to the river's edge, his eyes blazing as he stared at the turbid, rushing water, as if he wanted to burn it dry. He tried to follow the river downstream, but the swollen water had already overflowed most of the banks, forming a series of dangerous swamps and rapids. Combined with the torrential rain and the inky darkness of the night, any trace of his tracks was completely washed away.

The news quickly reached Caranthir and Curufin. Caranthir stood high in the palace, gazing out the window at the raging rain and the distant, eerie, frothing "angry dragon" roaring in the darkness. His face was gloomy enough to drip water. Curufin frowned, analyzing various possibilities: accident? Or a carefully planned escape? Regardless, facing such terrifying divine might, the chances of a human surviving... he finally shook his head slowly.

"Search!" Celegorm gave the order unwillingly, "Search along the river bank downstream. If you find anyone alive, you must find someone dead." The elven soldiers braved the heavy rain and danger and began to search downstream with difficulty.

As Curufin had predicted, the raging flood had already carried Meereen beyond the reach of Shagerion, rushing towards the unknown wilderness downstream. After several days of fruitless searching, Caranthir was forced to call a halt.

A low pressure enveloped Shagelion, and Celegorm grew increasingly irritable. The pain of the oath curse, soothed by Meereen's presence, surged back like a receding tide, gnawing at his soul anew. Caranthir lost a crucial "resource" he had hoped to exploit. Only Curufin, after his initial assessment, lingered in his heart a lingering doubt: Could the human who could revive the land and soothe souls truly be so easily swallowed by a flood? Was the Valar secretly aiding him?

Unbeknownst to all, on the night of the flood, Meereen, swept into the raging waters, was not entirely at the mercy of fate. The moment he hit the water, he held his breath, abandoning any futile struggle. Instead, he relaxed, curling up like a lifeless piece of driftwood, surrendering himself completely to the destructive current. The crushing impact left him dizzy, the icy water sapped his body heat, and the feeling of suffocation mounted. But on the brink of consciousness, he felt a strange force envelop him amid the raging current, like a gentle whirlpool, shielding him from deadly rocks and whirlpools, and propelling him toward calmer waters. When his last ounce of strength finally sapped, he was washed ashore on a muddy, desolate riverbank far from Shagerion. He was exhausted, his only remaining strength remaining cold and a faint sense of relief at having finally escaped.