Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 556

So they finally committed their trump card...

Rowan watched the battlefield reports in silence.

Before the army ever marched, he had already infiltrated Gothmog’s forces and discovered the hidden dragon legion. He understood exactly why Morgoth was confident enough to finally remove Himring from the board.

To Rowan, that was good news.

In the original course of history, Ancalagon had only been unleashed at the very end of the First Age, when the powers of the West had already pushed to the gates of Angband.

If Morgoth had deployed him this early, it meant he had invested enormous amounts of his own power into the creature.

If the alliance destroyed the dragons here and now...

Morgoth would be left dangerously weakened.

And Rowan’s eventual confrontation with him would become far easier.

"Advance at full speed!"

At Fingon’s command, the allied host surged forward at maximum pace.

At their current distance, they could reach Himring in under an hour and strike Gothmog’s army from the rear.

"We’re here!"

Forty-five minutes later, a vast plain opened before Rowan’s eyes.

At its far end rose a towering mountain. Halfway up its slopes stood the fortress-city of the Sons of Fëanor.

The city was built for defense. High ground. Natural barriers. Narrow approaches.

Normally, nearly impossible to conquer.

Now?

The sky above it swarmed with dragons.

The city walls were shattered.

Balrogs and orcs had already breached the gates. Fighting raged street by street.

"Damn it. They got here faster than expected."

Standing atop the ruined walls, Gothmog towered over the battlefield, nearly twenty meters tall.

At his feet lay the corpses of two elven princes he had slain moments earlier.

If the alliance had arrived just two hours later, Himring would have fallen completely.

Then Gothmog could have turned his full force against the incoming army.

Destroy the alliance.

Break the defensive line.

Hand Middle-earth to Morgoth.

"Ancalagon!" Gothmog roared skyward. "I’ll finish things here. Take the dragon legion and stall the allied army!"

Above, Ancalagon wheeled through the sky, fire trailing behind him.

"Watch your tone, Balrog," the dragon thundered back. "Stall them? I’ll exterminate them."

He dove toward the approaching allied host, the dragon swarm following like a storm of living fire.

Gothmog watched him go, irritated.

Dragons. Orcs. All beasts, no matter how strong.

Only the Balrogs and Sauron were true Maiar.

Still, he called out one last warning:

"Watch for the human mage. Rowan Mercer."

The one who killed Glaurung.

The one who destroyed Sauron’s form.

Even Morgoth had emphasized that name.

Ancalagon snorted smoke.

"One human? I’ll burn him first."

The dragon host descended.

Ancalagon opened his jaws and unleashed a tidal wave of blackened dragonfire toward Rowan, Fingon, and the command ranks.

The rest of the dragons followed, saturating the battlefield in flame.

The sky turned red.

"Shields up!" Fingon commanded calmly.

This was exactly why the army had marched equipped with Magic Academy gear.

"Pathetic," Ancalagon sneered. "You think shields can stop this fire?"

Himring’s defenders had tried the same thing.

They had melted alive alongside their shields.

Dragonfire was no ordinary flame. It carried corrupting dark power.

But this time...

Things were different.

As thousands of soldiers raised their shields and fed them magic, golden energy domes flared into existence.

They linked together seamlessly.

A single massive barrier formed above the army.

Dragonfire crashed against it.

And stopped.

"Elven archers, ready!"

The moment the dragons climbed after their first pass, the shield wall dropped.

Rows of elven archers rose in perfect coordination.

Runes blazed across their bows.

"Fire!"

A storm of golden arrows filled the sky.

"Burn them!" Ancalagon roared.

Flames engulfed the arrows.

But the arrows didn’t melt.

Instead, frost bloomed across their surfaces, shielding them from the heat as they punched through the firestorm.

The arrows struck dragon scales.

Some pierced shallowly.

Most bounced off.

The dragons roared in pain, but few were seriously wounded.

"Their defenses are still too strong," Rowan murmured.

The enchanted bows allowed archers to shift elemental properties on the fly.

Against orcs, light-element arrows were devastating.

Against dragons...

They were mostly harassment.

Fortunately, the army had more than bows.

"Dwarven arcane cannons! Deploy!"

At Fingon’s order, dwarven crews rolled forward massive siege weapons.

Rowan’s designs, adapted from arcane artillery concepts he’d studied in other worlds.

Anti-air arcane cannons.

Few in number.

But devastating.