The winter wheat harvested from the Plains of Paranor, though visibly small and pale, stood in stark contrast to the plump grain from other regions—like the difference between a snot-nosed, underdeveloped child and a lush, full-bodied young woman seemingly ready to overflow with moisture.

Of course, this was purely a matter of outward appearance.

One had to admit that the common folk’s name for this winter wheat, the "Paranor Gold," was not without merit. After mixing in water at a seven-to-three ratio (water to wheat) and bringing it to a rolling boil in a large cauldron, one would then let it simmer gently over low heat for a full hour. The resulting wheat porridge was thick and golden, with a surface layer of gruel that seemed almost oily, though it was never cloying.

Fang Senyan held a bowl of this gruel, slowly blowing on it as he sipped. The mixture of the thin soup and the moderately cooked, firm grains offered a slight resistance to his teeth upon chewing. As the scalding broth slid down his throat, a deep, pleasant satisfaction flooded his body, chasing away the fatigue.

Fang Senyan was not sitting alone at this moment. Beside him were key figures like Bai Xiwen, Lu Gu (Skull), and Jax. Opposite these Contractors sat a figure seemingly steeped in shadow. This individual wore a deformed, bronze-colored metal mask that lacked openings for the nose or mouth, instead featuring an absurdly large maw composed almost entirely of interlocking, razor-sharp teeth that gleamed with a bronze sheen.

This creature was one naturally capable of communicating with Sauron, the Dark Lord. When Sauron needed to issue complex or long-term directives, he would dispatch such a Dark Emissary.

In understandable terms, a Dark Emissary was akin to a medium naturally possessed by the spirit of the Great Yellow Immortal. The one who had produced the mithril shirt of Fëanor to strike at the morale of the Fellowship outside the gates of Mordor in the films was a Dark Emissary. Its voice was gloomy yet magnetic, underscored by a faint, metallic clang. Yet, its body movements often brought to mind the comical image of leeches or other soft-bodied creatures.

“Yes, that bastard Gandalf pulled another trick, wielding power he shouldn't have touched,” the Dark Emissary stated concisely. “And this is why I am here. I am relieved not to have found you charging in recklessly; otherwise, those long-rotted Knights of the Ancient Kings would have inflicted heavy casualties upon you.”

“Knights of the Ancient Kings?” Reef frowned. “What in the blazes are those?”

The Dark Emissary pointed outside:

“Do you see those five statues surrounding the White Tree of Gondor? Those are the Knights of the Ancient Kings. The tombs of the Kings of Gondor lie just behind them. Since Isildur uttered the words, ‘I need no grave, nor wait for decay in endless sleep,’ every King of Gondor since has been cremated and interred in the mausoleum. These tombs are guarded by loyal and powerful Knights who were buried alive as sacrifices. Their heroic spirits patrol the burial chambers.”

“To put it plainly: Gandalf heard the angry cries of the spirits in the tomb, so he used the blood of Boromir, the direct descendant of the Ruling Steward of Gondor, to allow the most powerful spirit within the tomb to temporarily possess five corpses and return to the mortal world. Their strength is limitless, they feel no pain, and they are masters of ancient battle arts lost thousands of years ago. Their lives are shared with the White Tree... Simply put, they are terrifying, bloody mincemeat grinders. It is virtually impossible for anyone, or any creature, to slip past them to reach the gates of the White Tower.”

Hearing the Dark Emissary’s words, Bai Xiwen sighed, placing Andúril gently on his lap. “Any good news, sir?”

“There is,” the Dark Emissary replied unhurriedly. “I was supposed to arrive yesterday morning to witness your magnificent battle taking the sixth wall of Minas Tirith. The reason for my delay is... I carried the will of the Dark Lord to intercept the elite Uruk-hai force sent by Saruman, and engaged them in a direct battle with the Elves led by Arwen on the plains.”

Upon hearing this, Fang Senyan and the others instantly relaxed. It seemed Space Noah C was not entirely useless. Having the two reinforcements clash head-on seemed fair. But considering one side was composed of warriors and the other of Elves, and the battlefield was an open plain, this meant the fearless and incredibly swift Uruk-hai could quickly close the distance to the Elves…

“Then why are you here alone?” Jax struggled to keep his eyes off the understated yet imposing weapon in Bai Xiwen’s hand. He grumbled, “While we might be slightly better off than Gandalf’s crew, we are still desperately short on manpower.”

“Gandalf’s party will receive no further reinforcements, so the elite Uruk-hai paid a heavy price. The least injured among them lost an eye, so it’s unlikely they will be able to contribute their strength anytime soon,” the Dark Emissary explained calmly.

“The second piece of good news: after Gandalf created the five Knights of the Ancient Kings, his injuries worsened significantly, so you will not have to account for his presence in the battle.”

“Is there a third piece of good news?” Zi, disliking the overly dramatic fellow, asked impolitely.

The Dark Emissary nodded. “I will be stationed here permanently, as the representative of Lord Sauron. Thus, the minor side-shows that occurred previously will cease here.” He shot a meaningful glance at Fang Senyan. “The strange demise of the Corsairs of Umbar leader will no longer affect them, and their fighting strength will see a corresponding increase. More importantly, I bring a Dark Magic Amplification Device. As long as it remains undamaged, the Hall of the Dark Source will no longer be restricted to 1,000 believers. This means you can send everyone, including myself, to be slaughtered by those five meat grinders without any lingering concerns.”

“Are they truly that powerful?” Ronnie, whose confidence had surged along with his newfound strength, questioned skeptically. “Are there really such monstrous beings?”

The Dark Emissary shrugged. “If that’s what you believe, then I don’t mind you going to test them and come back to discuss it with me—provided, of course, you manage to return alive.”

The arrogant Ronnie fell silent. It wasn't a sudden surge of refinement; it was because the only person who could truly subdue him gave a slight shake of his head. Fang Senyan looked at the Dark Emissary, sensing an intuition that this individual could be trusted. So, after everyone else had departed, he sought the Emissary out.

“It seems I have become a thorn in the side of the forces of Light. They must have laid many despicable curses upon me. Although these curses haven't taken effect under Lord Sauron’s protection, one or two might succeed, like with my armor here.”

Fang Senyan showed the Dark Emissary his Bloody Major General’s Plate. The attributes of this powerful piece of gear clearly displayed the words “Lightly Damaged” and “Can only be repaired to 90%.” The cost was that the C attribute, the Cursed Aura and Divine Judgment Aura, remained grayed out and ineffective.

The Dark Emissary actually extended his lizard-like tongue and licked the equipment:

“Hmm, I don't taste the filthy taint of the Light’s divine power upon it. However, the Dark God Sauron is omnipotent. If you provide certain key items, a possibility for repair does exist.”

“Key items?”

“To be precise: the circlet of Legolas, which contains the Love of the Elves; the seed of the White Tree, which carries the sorrowful fate of the Royal Line of Gondor (carried by Faramir); and the uncoagulated blood of a Hobbit, imbued with pure and lucky energy,” the Dark Emissary stated.

“You shall have them,” Fang Senyan said calmly. “Then my companions and I will go test the combat capabilities of the Knights of the Ancient Kings. We’ll talk about how to deal with this bunch when we return. Rest assured, I will return alive.”

The entire Grand Court of the Fountain was the only place bathed in sunlight. The White Tree, along with the heroic spirits of the Kings of Gondor, neutralized Sauron’s dark divine power. Thus, the sunlight made the white stone even smoother and cleaner, the grass lush. Orcs and Trolls suffered a drastic drop in combat effectiveness under the sun, meaning only the Corsairs of Umbar could be used as the primary fighting force.

The five Knights of the Ancient Kings were encased head-to-toe in sharply angular armor. Seeing them evoked immediate thoughts of incredibly keen weapons. The most distinguishing feature of these lean figures, generally exceeding two meters in height, was the wing-like ornament atop their helms. They formed a pentagram shape, guarding the White Tree in the center. Scattered around them were fragments of brutally mangled corpses—the unfortunate victims from before.

Both Contractors and plot characters had already attempted this: when these five figures were stationary, a protective barrier manifested around their bodies that could not be pierced. They only seemed to revive from this stiff, petrified state when someone approached to activate them. Naturally, the person who activated them would be maniacally pursued by these monsters.

Reef, gripping the Legendary Shield, and Fang Senyan walked into the arena together, while Ronnie and Aziz also prepared themselves. They did not expect to win in a single engagement, but at least they needed to gather certain data to formulate any future offensive. To put it bluntly, these five Knights of the Ancient Kings represented the final major defensive line. Breaching them would almost destroy the remaining fighting confidence and will of those inside the White Tower, bringing victory within sight.

The glow of the Legendary Shield faintly enveloped Reef’s entire body. He took a single step onto the grass, and immediately, one of the five Knights of the Ancient Kings moved!