The horrifying river surge swept in, turbulent and immense, churning with a muddy, ochre flow, as if countless enraged monsters lurked beneath, ready to devour any who crossed their path.

Due to the utter lack of preparation, the river surface was littered with dry clover leaves, household fodder, and sections of rush matting characteristic of Gondorians, all bobbing amidst the white foam; moreover, a sickening stench of brine rose from the water, almost causing one to retch.

Such a scene was in stark contrast to the previous impression of the Anduin: blue skies, white clouds, scattered white sails, and a surface as smooth as glass! Mercifully, though the flood appeared cataclysmic, spreading across the vast Pelennor Fields, the water level remained shallow—barely reaching the calves in the shallowest parts, and at most, waist-deep where it was deepest. Frankly, this depth of flooding posed the greatest threat to Pippin; for everyone else, the primary concern was staying upright, as the risk of drowning was minimal.

Ultimately, the Anduin was the longest river in Middle-earth, comparable to the Mississippi, Amazon, or Nile Rivers on Earth; thus, stopping its flow without heavy engineering machinery to achieve the 'Drowning of the Seven Armies' scenario was highly unrealistic.

Indeed, back in the Nightmare Space, the brainstorming team behind the Knight had previously proposed a dam-breaking plan, which was ultimately rejected because their analysis showed that any large-scale water assault required absolute secrecy. Executing a significant breach under the surveillance of two hundred thousand Orc legions was theoretically almost impossible. At best, they could only replicate the annual overflow that washed over the Pelennor Fields, serving merely as fertilization… what conceivable benefit would that bring?

While making the Orcs drink and wallow in the mud might seem satisfying, never forget the crucial reinforcement for the Alliance of Men: the cavalry of Rohan. Without them, the Alliance would never have held out until Aragorn arrived with the spectral army.

Therefore, for the Alliance of Men, a minor dampening of the Pelennor Fields would only mildly annoy the Orcs, but conversely, it would be exceptionally detrimental to their own forces!

Consider the miserable sight of the noble Rohan cavalry, stripped of their charge, floundering and struggling in the mire; thus, when the Knight’s think tank proposed this plan, it was not only swiftly vetoed and its secrecy demanded, but those presenting it were implored never to suggest such a critical element again.

As the crest of the flood roared past, the morale of the remaining soldiers of the Alliance of Men slowly began to recover. They realized that after the first few initial waves swept away perhaps a few dozen men, the torrent quickly lost its power. Furthermore, even at its peak, the water barely reached the waist, allowing the terrifying anxiety in their hearts to gradually subside.

But, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. In contrast, the Knight and his cohort felt their hearts sink further. They already knew that these adversaries undoubtedly had a follow-up plan—a wicked, chain-linked sequence of devastating measures!

Soon, those struggling in the muddy water spotted myriad sampans and rafts approaching in the distance. These small vessels, likely drawing very little water, appeared capable of navigating through marshland freely; without exception, every single one was packed with pirates shouting and screaming in wild excitement!

These pirates were grotesquely dressed, their hair a matted mess, their clothing predominantly black and tattered. This was because a flea-like parasite, which favors nesting in hair and causes considerable distress and disease, was rampant across Middle-earth; consequently, perhaps over thirty percent of the pirates were bald, having shaved their heads to prevent infestation.

However, the pirates also wore standard issue leather armor, confirming the assertion that the Corsairs of Umbar had effectively formed a nation. This armor was crafted from two layers of tanned beast hide sandwiching a padding made from the fibers of the native red coconut tree, offering excellent defense against arrowheads and sword thrusts, and also retarding the spread of fire. Some of the smaller boats even carried roaring fire barrels, presumably to ignite torches or fire arrows.

For those trusted confidantes left behind by Fang Senyan, persuading these highly suspicious pirates was remarkably smooth and easy. They found the plan of building a dam to weaken the enemy far more appealing than facing a bloody, head-on battle—in truth, if not for the strict oversight of the Dark Lord Sauron’s faith, these utterly unscrupulous individuals might have dispersed long ago.

It was evident that the pirates' greatest weakness was their total lack of discipline and order; in a contest against a regular army, such a rabble would typically be severely underestimated. Under normal circumstances, tens of thousands of Umbar Corsairs fighting the few thousand remaining elite troops within Minas Tirith on land would result in an utter rout. It was no wonder the presence of the Umbar Corsairs had always seemed so insignificant; there was reason why everyone looked down on them.

But under Fang Senyan’s calculus, even scrap metal must shine, and a single piece of tissue paper must be used to wipe a face, then a table, then a backside before being discarded—its maximum utility must be exploited!

Though the Umbar Corsairs were chaotic now, tossed about by the floodwaters and resembling mud-covered monkeys, did the defenders of Minas Tirith, coated in grime, exhibit any greater discipline? Fang Senyan could not, in the short term, force the Corsairs to adhere to order, but he could devise a way to throw the well-trained enemy into utter disarray!

This was the strategy: using his own chaos to fight the enemy’s disorder, supplemented by the fact that the pirates arrived by boat, giving them an inherent advantage that compensated for their deficiency in raw combat power.

What was even more insidious was that the water accumulated in this short time was finite. In just another dozen minutes, the current would begin to recede from the elevated Pelennor Fields, which would transform into a temporary vast swamp within two or three days!

This meant that if the Corsairs sensed danger—if their morale collapsed—they would be unable to escape by boat. In this muddy terrain, the mobility of both sides would be reduced to an absolute minimum. Therefore, should a battle ensue, the weaker party would have almost no chance of retreat, forcing them into a fight to the death!

This was the brutal melee Fang Senyan intended! A sanguinary war of attrition fought through tactical exchanges. Recall Fang Senyan’s initial battle plan: the strength of an individual was negligible compared to the power of a campaign; his team’s strength in a massive battle involving tens of thousands would be like a small wavelet, swiftly extinguished, affecting only a localized area. But once this battle concluded, his core team’s augmented strength and contribution would become paramount!

The final state of the great endgame Fang Senyan envisioned was beginning to take shape!

Of course, it is said that one general’s glory is built on ten thousand corpses. As for how many Umbar Corsairs would survive this engagement, he had not considered; perhaps a thousand surviving from the tens of thousands would be sufficient to provide faith for the Dark Fount Hall. He trusted that the great Dark Lord Sauron would not bother himself with such trivialities…

In terms of sheer visual spectacle, this bloody battle might not surpass previous encounters, but the atmosphere was incomparably grim and murderous!

Under Fang Senyan’s design, neither side had much room for retreat, forcing an explosion of ferocious combat. On the Pelennor Fields after the flood receded, the higher ground was incredibly muddy, but the low-lying areas were dotted with pools—pools reflecting a horrifying, shocking crimson everywhere one looked, marking the terrible sight of mutual devastation.

In such terrain, it was paradise for ranged attackers; their shots were nearly impossible to dodge, hitting almost every time. But if one were targeted, this ground instantly became a nightmare hell.

In these conditions, Fang Senyan could do nothing about Prince Legolas. Wielding his incomparably sharp longbow, he held a supreme advantage. Even the members of the Sea Alliance and the Blue Light team, who rushed over upon hearing the news to strike the reeling enemy, lost about ten men to his arrows.

Remember, every survivor who remained until this point was a core member of their respective teams! The loss of a dozen men represented a severe blow to these two factions. Conversely, Fang Senyan’s own team members—Aziz, Zi, and Ardarion—also reaped astonishing benefits.

Finally, thanks to the Elf Prince’s dazzling performance and the Knight’s ability to improvise by using several contractors skilled in earth magic and special abilities to carve out a dry path, the forces that managed to escape into Minas Tirith numbered between one and two thousand. However, more than half of these surviving warriors were soldiers summoned by the contractors.

Compared to regular troops, the greatest disadvantage of these summoned soldiers was that they belonged to numerous different masters and fought independently; war demands sacrifice, but the self-interest of contractors is usually far greater, leading them to place their summoned troops on the front lines. Because of this, it is generally accepted that the combat effectiveness of a contractor-summoned soldier is roughly 2/3 that of a plot soldier; meaning three hundred contractor soldiers are needed to equal two hundred plot soldiers. Thus, the more contractor-owned soldiers who escaped within, the more pleased Fang Senyan was.

In stark contrast, nearly three thousand Umbar Corsairs actually survived. It could be said that this muddy zone was akin to their home turf, granting them a massive advantage. Fang Senyan was not entirely cruel; those who managed to cling to life were not sent as cannon fodder to storm the city, but were assigned defensive duties. Their role was simply to provide the necessary faith to keep the Dark Fount Hall unshakable.