Chapter 23
Finrod and his companions met up with Beren deep in the forest, where they had agreed to meet. Beren was surprised to see a human among them. "Lord Finrod," Beren said hesitantly, his gaze lingering on Meereen. "Who is this...?"
"This is Meereen, my friend and companion," Finrod introduced him, his tone full of trust. "He possesses extraordinary courage and unique strength, and has volunteered to join us on this perilous journey."
Beren looked at Meereen's young and resolute face, thinking of his own determination to take risks for love, and he couldn't help but feel a little respect: "Meereen? I have heard some rumors about you... I didn't expect to meet you here. Thank you for joining this almost impossible mission. Your courage is admirable."
Meereen looked back at the human who was dressed in rags but whose eyes burned with an eternal fire, and his heart was also full of respect: "Beren, your story really shocked me. For the sake of the one you love, you dared to face the darkness of Morgoth. This is a courage I have never imagined. I am honored to walk with you." This was the first time that Meereen truly came into contact with the deep love that transcended race. Beren's choice made him feel a resonance of the soul.
After a short rest and greetings, this unique team composed of the Elf King, human heroes and immortal otherworldly beings once again set out on the dangerous journey north. Their goal is Angband, the Silmaril on the crown of Morgoth.
Nearing the Ered Wethrin Mountains, they encountered and decisively dispatched a small band of isolated Orcs. Finrod, with his mastery, used the filthy armor and leathers stripped from the Orcs to create disguises for the group. He skillfully used mud, dirt, and the Orcish stench to transform the elegant Elves and two Men into a filthy, foul-smelling Orc patrol. Meereen, observing his companions' disfigured appearance, suppressed his discomfort and tried to imitate the Orcs' stumbling gait and rasping voices.
By this disguise they hoped to pass through Tol Sirion, the venomous island-fortress that stood like a fang in the heart of the Sirion, which was guarded by Sauron himself.
At first, the plan seemed to work. They boarded the ferry without difficulty, crossed the turbulent river, and landed on the island of Tor-in-Golhoth. The Orcs guarding the island gave them a rude look and asked no further questions. However, as they were about to pass through the fortress's maw-like doorway, a cold, greasy voice, as if it could penetrate their souls, spoke behind them:
"stop."
Sauron, Morgoth's most cunning and powerful servant, appeared in the form of a tall, pale, hawk-eyed dark elf. His eyes, burning with evil fire, swept over the "Orc Squad" and a cruel and playful smile curled up at the corner of his mouth.
"A group of lost Orcs?" Soran's voice was full of mockery. "The smell on their bodies is very similar. But their steps are too neat. And their eyes are too clear." He paced slowly, like a poisonous snake examining its prey.
Finrod knew his disguise was mostly gone, but he didn't panic. He stepped forward and tried to get away with it by speaking in a well-rehearsed Orcish tongue, mixed with crude excuses.
Soran let out a deep laugh. "Interesting trick. But playing tricks on me?" He suddenly raised his voice. It was no longer words, but a spell filled with powerful dark magic, enough to twist minds and tear apart disguises! The sound was like countless poisonous insects burrowing into his ears!
Finrod's face hardened, and he immediately began to sing. His voice was no longer the harsh, raspy strains of an Orc, but a majestic, clear, elven ballad imbued with the will of light. Two invisible forces collided fiercely in the air. Finrod's song was like a sturdy dam, stubbornly resisting the encroaching might of Sauron's dark spells. Song and spell intertwined, sending visible ripples of energy through the shadowy courtyard of the fortress. The surrounding Orc guards were dizzy and retreated in a flurry. It was a pinnacle battle of will and magic. Finrod's song was filled with unyielding courage and the glory of Nargothrond, while Sauron's spells were like a boundless dark morass, constantly trying to devour and disintegrate. Time seemed to freeze, each second stretching endlessly. Sweat soaked Finrod's golden hair, his face grew paler, and his song gradually trembled with exhaustion.
Finally, under an even more violent attack of darkness, Finrod's singing came to an abrupt end! He was struck by an invisible hammer, his body swayed violently, he spat out a mouthful of blood, and collapsed to the ground!
Beren and Meereen wanted to rush forward, but were held down by Sauron's powerful pressure and the incoming Orc guards.
Sauron looked at the fallen Finrod with satisfaction and waved his hand: "Strip away their disguise."
The Orcs roughly tore off the Orc leathers and disguises from the people, revealing their true appearance - the handsomeness of Elves, the toughness of Humans, and the unique, otherworldly faces of Meereen.
Sauron's gaze was like a cold probe, sweeping across everyone's face, but when he saw Meereen, his brow furrowed slightly. The young human's face was unfamiliar to him, but there was an indescribable aura about him, so pure that it was incompatible with this filthy land, and it even made him instinctively feel a slight discomfort.
"Hmph," Soran sneered. "You cowards. I don't know who you all are, but trespassing here with ill intentions is a capital offense!" He lost his patience for further interrogation, especially with the young human who struck him as strange. He wanted to get rid of him quickly. "Lock them in the deepest part of the dungeon! Let the hungry rocks and darkness accompany them on their final journey!"
Finrod and his companions were thrown roughly into the lowest dungeon of Minas Tirith. It was damp and cold, filled with the stench of decay and despair. Only a few faint rays of light penetrated through the narrow air holes that were too high to reach, making it almost impossible to see the sun. Heavy shackles bound their hands and feet.
"Damn it!" Beren angrily pounded the cold stone wall. Finrod was seriously injured and unconscious. Despair enveloped everyone.
"Don't give up!" Meereen's voice echoed in the darkness, strangely calm. He struggled to move to the prison door, restrained by his shackles, and fumbled with the massive iron lock. In the dim light, he carefully observed the keyhole's structure. Time slipped away, and as the footsteps of the patrolling Orcs faded, Meereen fished out a tiny piece of metal, barely the size of a hairpin, from the lining of his tattered clothes. It was a small gift Glorfindel had given him half-jokingly when he left Gondolin, saying it was "for emergencies."
Meereen held his breath as he carefully inserted the metal piece into the keyhole. His movements were gentle and precise, like plucking the finest strings of a harp. The only sound in the darkness was the faintest scraping of metal. Glorfindel had taught him not only swordsmanship but also the wisdom to remain calm in desperate situations and to utilize every available resource.
Click!
A slight sound was like thunder in the silent dungeon, and the heavy iron lock was actually pried open by Meereen.
"Quick!" Meereen shouted, and quickly opened the prison door. Everyone was surprised and happy, and immediately helped each other to unlock the shackles and supported Finrod, who was still unconscious.
However, their luck seemed to have run out. Just as they left the cell and prepared to find a way out, a creepy growl and the sound of claws scraping against rocks came from the depths of the dungeon! Then, several pairs of eyes flashed with a dark green and fierce light in the darkness.
Sauron sent out giant wolves. These monsters were huge, with fangs like daggers, and their saliva dripping on the ground made a ticking sound. They pounced on him with a roar.
"Prepare for battle!" Beren roared, picking up a broken iron fence on the ground as a weapon. The other elf warriors also searched for useful objects.
The swordsmanship Glorfindel had taught him proved crucial at this moment. Although unarmed, Meereen was agile and skillful, taking advantage of the cramped dungeon and the gaps between the wolves' attacks to dodge and roll. He could even seize the opportunity to cleverly kick the wolves in their vulnerable joints or noses, causing them to roar in pain. As Glorfindel had anticipated, Meereen's alertness and affinity with nature might have helped him escape in the open air. However, in this narrow, dark dungeon with nowhere to escape, facing several bloodthirsty beasts, his situation was extremely dangerous!
In the melee, a cunning giant wolf took advantage of the moment when Milin dodged the other wolf's attack and pounced on him from the side! Milin was unable to dodge and felt a sharp pain in his left arm. The giant wolf's sharp fangs tore off a large piece of flesh and blood.
"Ah!" Meereen cried out in pain.
Even more horrifying was the moment the giant wolf, having gnawed at Meereen's flesh, let out a shrill, distorted howl before even basking in the bloody savage. It tossed its head wildly, as if scalding magma had poured into its mouth. Smoke billowed from its mouth, and a sizzling sound like roasting meat emanated. Its tough fur and muscle, once resistant to ordinary swords, were rapidly corroded from within its mouth, leaving a charred hole and a foul stench. The wolf writhed and convulsed on the ground in agony. In a matter of seconds, it was completely silent, leaving only a gruesome corpse, emitting black smoke and a corroded hole in its chest.
This sudden and bizarre death frightened the other giant wolves and caused them to stop attacking and growl in anxiety.
The shadows at the dungeon's entrance twisted, and Sauron's figure silently emerged. He had been monitoring the dungeon through dark magic. The bizarre scene before him caused his eyes, burning with evil fire, to shrink in disbelief.
He remembered! After the Battle of Sudden Flame, Morgoth had spoken of a human with a tone of deep fear and resentment. A human who had been cut in half and then resurrected, whose blood corroded his chest like a poison, leaving a permanent wound. A being Morgoth had called "a cancer blessed by the gods."
"It's you!" Sauron's voice was full of shock and a hint of imperceptible fear. He stared at Meereen, who was covering his bleeding arm and looking pale. "The 'blessed son' with blood that corrodes darkness! No wonder... no wonder I can't see through your disguise. It must be the power of the Valar that blocked my prying eyes." He finally understood the source of the pure and uncomfortable breath.
Meereen, enduring the excruciating pain and dizziness from blood loss, saw Sauron emerge and glimpsed the giant wolf on the ground, dead from its own flesh and blood. An idea flashed through his mind. He forced himself to stand upright and shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the dungeon: "See? My blood is your nemesis! I'm in a very, very bad mood! Believe it or not, I will drain my blood right now and turn this place into your furnace, burning through you filthy minions and this stinking fortress along with it!"
His words were filled with empty threats, but combined with the horrific fate of the giant wolf on the ground, they had a terrifying effect. The surrounding Orc guards retreated in fear, and even the few remaining giant wolves hunched low, their tails between their legs, whimpering in fear. Sauron's face darkened. He feared the power of Meereen's blood, a force that could directly corrupt the very essence of darkness and posed a threat to a Maiar like him. He didn't dare bet on whether Meereen would be so mad as to mutilate and bleed himself. He had to capture him alive, absolutely, and offer him to Morgoth, or else discover the secret of this power.
Just as Sauron's eyes flickered and he was thinking about how to subdue Meereen without being splashed with blood -
Boom!
Suddenly, a deafening roar was heard from above the dungeon. The entire fortress shook violently, and rubble fell to the ground.
A ray of light as pure and powerful as the breaking of dawn, accompanied by a song whose beauty is indescribable but contains the power to dismantle the will of darkness, penetrated the thick rock barriers and descended directly into this filthy dungeon!
"Lucien!" everyone shouted in surprise.
At the dungeon's entrance, at the center of the glow, stood an elf so beautiful that even the stars pale in comparison—Lucien Tinuviel. She clad herself in a dress woven from starlight, her black hair flowing like the night, her eyes like the purest stars. Her song possessed a power that emanated from it. Wherever she passed, darkness receded like a tide, and imprisoning magic crumbled! At her side, like a loyal guardian, stood the mighty hound, Huan! With a deafening roar, the divine hound charged into the dungeon like lightning! Its speed, strength, and divine aura made the ferocious giant wolves seem to have met their natural predators. Huan's sharp claws easily ripped through the remaining giant wolves like rotting wood.
Sauron was shocked and angry, and immediately transformed into a giant wolf that was larger and more ferocious than all the previous giant wolves combined, and pounced on Lúthien with a roar.
However, Juan was not afraid at all and faced the beasts head-on. The two giant beasts started a shocking fight in the dungeon. The collision of claws and fangs made a sound of metal clashing, but Juan was obviously better. His divine power had a natural restraint on Sauron's dark form. After several rounds, he used his huge claws to pin the transformed magic wolf of Sauron to the ground, and his sharp teeth pressed against its throat.
At the same time, Lúthien's song reached its climax. It was no longer a song of disintegration, but rather a song that contained the power to destroy and rebuild! The solid rock fortress of Tor-in-Gorhoth began to twist and crumble like a melting wax figure in this song filled with the power of the origin. Huge rocks fell, and the dark runes broke off inch by inch.
Lúthien walked quickly to the unconscious Beren, leaned over, and awakened her lover with a gentle kiss and a song full of life force.
The fortress completely collapsed and fell apart in the song of Lúthien. Sauron roared unwillingly under Huan's claws, and finally broke free from his restraints, turned into a black smoke, and fled in panic towards Angband in the north.
The long-awaited sunlight finally penetrated the crumbling ruins, shedding light upon the survivors. Finrod slowly awoke, summoned by Meereen and his companions. They stood atop the ruins, gazing towards Sauron's flight and before them, Lúthien, radiant like a goddess, and her mighty divine dog, Huan, at her side.
Though wounded, they all survived. And after enduring the catastrophe on the island of Thor-in-Golhoth, their quest for the Silmaril finally received unexpected and powerful assistance. Meereen, clutching his still aching arm, watched the joy of Lúthien and Beren's reunion, then glanced at Finrod, who had awakened beside him, his heart filled with gratitude for having survived.
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