It was indeed quite ironic, how the very energy of life could be used to summon the monsters of the Death God Legion. Life and death were fundamentally opposing forces, yet Zheng Zha managed to conjure several Death God Legion monsters through the expenditure of life energy.

In this meticulous state, Zheng Zha could unleash energy drop by drop, no longer needing to draw all his power into the Death God Bracelet for summoning as before. When the Treants channeled their life energy into him, he indeed summoned several Death God Legion monsters. Seeing these wolf-headed, human-bodied creatures, both Gandalf and the Treants frowned deeply.

Despite the Treants and Gandalf viewing these Death God Legion monsters as products of dark sorcery, the sheer pressure of the demonic hordes—hundreds of thousands strong—and the looming threat of the Dark Lord Sauron forced them to acquiesce to Zheng Zha’s demand: during the battle at Mordor, they would pool all their energy into him, allowing him to summon as many Death God Legion monsters as possible.

"In terms of sheer quality, even facing Orcs empowered by fighting spirit, these Death God Legion monsters stand a chance. They stand about three meters tall, and unless their heads are completely shattered, they are nearly impossible to destroy. They can also ignore gravity. While not as exaggerated as those undead creatures, I surmise that if I could summon ten thousand Death God Legion monsters, the Dark Gate could easily be breached. Afterward, we could inflict massive damage upon the Orc armies inside!" Zheng Zha stated confidently to Gandalf.

Gandalf was deeply reluctant to agree to Zheng Zha’s request. Having witnessed the formidable combat effectiveness of the Death God Legion monsters, his greatest fear was that if Zheng Zha lost control of these creatures, an assault by ten thousand such entities would leave no place for anyone to find a safe burial. However, one sentence from Zheng Zha left him utterly speechless.

"Without these monsters, could our army of fifteen thousand completely conquer Mordor?"

The answer was no.

However, with the aid of the Treants, ensuring a safe retreat would at least not be an issue. Furthermore, based on the intelligence Gandalf possessed, while Mordor’s army was vast, the number of truly combat-effective units was limited. Most of the forces were mere Uruks, and the loss of a hundred thousand troops represented an insurmountable deficit in war materiel for Mordor. Thus, these hundreds of thousands of troops could only be accounted for as an army of seventy or eighty thousand. Yet, even an army of seventy or eighty thousand, entrenched behind fortifications, could not be broken by fifteen thousand humans.

It was a contradiction, a helplessness.

Zheng Zha remained swathed like a mummy, though Cheng Xiao’s methods were certainly rough. Having suffered severe burns, without antibiotics, medical equipment, or painkillers, no matter how strong his regenerative ability was, he should have been enduring the process of inflammation and pain throughout his body. But Cheng Xiao had somehow procured numerous green leaves, along with a line of dreadfully viscous, gigantic, translucent caterpillars. Cheng Xiao mashed these leaves and caterpillars into a pulp and proceeded to smear the resulting juice all over Zheng Zha’s body.

"Stop pulling such a face. You don't like a man applying unguents to you, and I certainly don't enjoy doing it to one either! Damn it, if I had the choice, I’d rather not touch that horrifyingly exposed... thing," Cheng Xiao muttered weakly, his face drawn with distaste.

Zheng Zha was both annoyed and amused. He quietly endured the numbing ache as the fluid was applied, then retorted, "Nonsense. I’m completely wrapped in bandages; which eye of yours is seeing my expression? Enough of that. Tell me, don't you think Zhang Heng and Zhao Zhuikong seem to have changed slightly?"

Cheng Xiao glanced sideways at Zhang Heng, then peered intently at Zhao Zhuikong again. After a long moment, he finally said, "Uh... it seemed her chest twitched when she gripped the sword. Could her chest wrapping have loosened?"

"Forget it, there’s no point talking to you," Zheng Zha closed his eyes, too weary to press the issue, focusing only on enduring the painful, tingling sensation spreading over his body.

Zhang Heng and Zhao Zhuikong had indeed changed, perhaps even before they realized it themselves. When Zhang Heng gripped his arrow, his gaze was firm and powerful, no longer harboring the evasiveness of before. Conversely, when Zhao Yingkong drew her sword, she was a fraction slower than her usual lightning speed; yet, within that hesitation, the angle of her strike became incredibly tricky and unpredictable. Zheng Zha, currently injured and able to see only with one eye, would undoubtedly have noticed the clarity in Zhao Yingkong’s eyes—the hatred seemed gone, or perhaps merely concealed.

What had to come would come. Driven by worry for Chu Xuan and the others, this contingent had to set off as soon as possible. At dawn on the third day, this force of fifteen thousand marched toward the rising sun, embarking on their final pilgrimage toward the land of Mordor!

"So, you're using a future verbal promise as your condition? Saying you can restore Isengard's forest within ten years? Where did you get such capabilities?" Zheng Zha asked Neos curiously.

Neos casually replied while munching on chocolate, "'Main God' Space has plenty of such things. It’s nothing to boast about. We could also trade with the various factions of this Middle-earth world, just like your Central team does."

Zheng Zha suddenly remembered that Neos was also a character of extraordinary intellect. He let out an embarrassed chuckle, "You know we already traded with the Elven Queen?"

Neos nodded, "Yes, I just learned about it—from your mouth."

Zheng Zha truly wanted to slap himself. He could only mumble, "Right, the incident with those newcomers yesterday definitely wasn't done by our Central team, you know that, right? The notification about those newcomers being killed..."

Neos shrugged indifferently while eating another piece of chocolate, "Of course I know. If your Central team had done it, you would have done it long ago, perhaps when you were at full strength, instead of now when you look like a mummy. Either someone wants you dead and killed those newcomers to divert our hatred, or both our teams’ newcomers were eliminated. It’s that simple."

Zheng Zha was truly silenced. He suddenly found himself deeply disliking being around these highly intelligent individuals, as if they could discern every thought in his head—a feeling that was profoundly uncomfortable.

(I must find time to let you stay with Chu Xuan. Seeing the look on your face when not even your underwear color is safe would be truly spectacular.)

Zheng Zha thought with malice.

Regardless, the army of fifteen thousand gradually drew closer to Mordor, and the surrounding environment grew increasingly harsh. The Treants were the most distressed group, comparatively speaking; the scorched earth caused them immense suffering. If it weren't for their promise to accompany the humans to the Dark Gate, they would have long since returned to the forests.

Although the environment deteriorated, the journey met with no obstacles whatsoever. After several days, the army finally reached the massive gate—a colossal entryway over a hundred meters wide and several dozen meters high. As the army approached the Dark Gate, a small aperture suddenly opened beneath the immense portal, and a single knight emerged.

This knight rode a black horse and wore full black armor that covered his eyes and ears entirely, leaving exposed only a gigantic, repulsive mouth, its upper and lower teeth coated in disgusting yellow tartar.

"My master, the Dark Lord Sauron, welcomes you. May I inquire about the purpose of your visit?" the grotesque mouth stated as it spoke.

Several key plot characters exchanged glances, and Aragorn stepped forward first: "Tell your Dark Lord it is time for him to face righteous judgment!"

Gandalf stopped him. "Inform your master that the armies of Mordor must be disbanded, and he must leave this continent, forbidden to ever return. Only then can his life be spared!"

The big mouth suddenly contorted into a mocking shape, then continued, "I imagine you all know that my master has already recovered the One Ring? Yes, this Ring will eventually enslave all of Middle-earth. Oh, and would you like to know how my master obtained the Ring? Those two little Hobbits—their flesh was truly delicious, and the agonizing screams as they were tortured, hahahaha..."

The plot figures listened silently to this declaration. Aragorn took a deep breath and slowly urged his horse toward the knight. The big mouth remarked, "And who are you? The Heir of Isildur? A descendant of royalty? A pity, you are about to be..." Before the words were finished, Aragorn leaped up and severed the knight's head with a single sword stroke, instantly felling the body onto the ground.

"Sauron!" Aragorn roared towards the Dark Gate. "Do you remember this sword? It ended you once before, and it will end you again! Come forth, Sauron! Let us bury you!"

As soon as the shout faded, the Dark Gate let out a deep, grinding sound, like massive gears turning. Slowly, the colossal door began to move, and within a minute at most, the Dark Gate had fully opened. Behind it stood an endless mass of Uruks, truly innumerable—one could not gauge how many tens of thousands stood within that gate; the sheer quantity was chilling.

Aragorn turned back, casting a profound look at his soldiers. Then, gripping his silver greatsword tightly, he sat steady on his horse, poised to launch the attack the moment the signal was given.

Not far from where Aragorn stood...

"Treants, channel your energy into me! All Treants, send your energy—thousands, ten thousand, or even twenty thousand! Let me see just how many Death God Legion soldiers I can summon!" he leaped up.