"Uh..." At this tense moment, Jill Young pointed at Gandalf and quietly asked Jasper Xiao in a low voice, "What did that English word he just said mean?"
"Ringwraiths," Jasper Xiao explained in Chinese. "They're Sauron's top henchmen."
"Ringwraiths?" Jill Young was surprised. "Didn't you already beat them up? Aren't all nine king rings on your fingers now? How are there still Ringwraiths? And—"
She glanced at the dense forest, where a powerful, malevolent aura was approaching like a dark cloud. If your spiritual cultivation was high enough, you could even see the light and shadows twisting and rippling, like waves on water. These ripples swept in, making everyone caught in them break out in goosebumps and tremble with fear. The newcomer carried a faintly divine authority, the kind that makes your heart skip a beat.
"Why does this feel like the big boss is making an entrance? It's way more intense than the movie!"
In the movie, the Ringwraiths were honestly pretty weak. Gandalf and the others hyped them up, but in reality they didn’t seem all that impressive. Nine guys on giant horses chasing four hobbits and still couldn’t catch them, then they switched to flying dragons and got stabbed by a regular princess from Rohan in a duel—hardly top-tier villains.
But now? It's a whole different story—night and day.
"Still..." Jill Young thought for a moment. "Pacific Rim was super different from its movie too—or really, alternate worlds are never like the movies. Maybe the Ringwraiths in this Lord of the Rings world are just that badass."
"Yeah, if alternate worlds were exactly like the movies, it’d save us a ton of headaches," Jasper Xiao chuckled, then shook his head gravely. "But this time it’s different. Originally, they were only a bit stronger than the movie version—back then I wasn’t even that tough, but I could still beat all nine. Now, though, they’ve changed. They’ve become something completely new. And that’s actually why I asked you all to help."
"Full alert!!" Gandalf raised his staff high, galloping around the Elven Knights before riding back to the twins with a grave warning: "The ones coming are the assassins of the night, the terrifying shadows of death—horrors that should’ve stayed buried in history but have unfortunately awakened: Blademaw!"
"Blademaw?" Jill Young looked at Gandalf, puzzled. "I thought the Ringwraiths were once the nine human kings, but Blademaw sounds like a whole different species."
So, just how different is this Middle-earth from the movie version?
"That's right—they were. But now they've transformed into something even more wicked." Gandalf's face was etched with deep, dramatic shadows, like a grandpa telling ghost stories to kids: "Blademaw is the ultimate assassin—no one in the realm can match its skills. Stay alert, even in broad daylight, because it could strike when you least expect—"
Before Gandalf could finish, Jill's eyes flashed and she suddenly moved—her hand shot out and grabbed at Gandalf's cheek. Her motion was so fast it seemed to skip the whole process of raising her arm; in an instant, she'd snatched something just three inches from Gandalf's temple. There was a metallic clang, sparks flew, and Jill found herself gripping a nearly invisible, ghostly blade.
The tip of the sword was mere millimeters from Gandalf's head, its edge deadly sharp. Nobody was holding the hilt, yet the blade trembled in the air, trying to slice Jill's hand. But Jill just pinched the blade, holding it completely still, cool as ever.
Gandalf looked thoroughly embarrassed, but Jill just inspected the sword, grinning: "Hey, not bad material." She handed it to Teacher Yang, who took it with practiced ease and flicked a finger against the blade—ding, a clear, ringing note. Teacher Yang shook his head: "Good stuff, but the tempering's sloppy. Shame, really. At best, it's a passable magic weapon."
"Still, it'd make great raw material for reforging—just wish there was more of it." Oddly enough, the sword couldn't be stored in the inventory space, which meant it was alive—or at least part of something alive. Teacher Yang peered into the depths of the shadowy forest: "Looks like this world is loaded with resources. Nothing seems to be in short supply here."
In the direction Teacher Yang was looking, shadows flickered—monsters began to appear in the forest. The orcs, who'd just been routed, finally had someone to rally behind. Reinforcements arrived, and the orcs regrouped for another assault. The war drums thundered again, and the monsters' attitude shifted—they became fearless, savage, and brutal. Even facing the same enemies who'd just terrified them, they grinned, bared their teeth, and swung their axes.
Now, they finally looked like the infamous Mordor Legion—clearly, someone was backing them up.
Faced with this lineup, the rookie Chosen Ones immediately panicked. Civilians are civilians—no way they can handle this kind of scene. The chubby guy who claimed he had a secret move suddenly saw his chance, puffed out his chest, and shouted, "No worries! Give me three minutes, I'll take care of them! These little monsters? I could solo a thousand!"
Before the words were even out, something not-so-little appeared. A metallic whoosh filled the air, and dozens of floating blades emerged from the forest's shadows. They swam forward like piranhas, slow and deliberate, spreading out—a quick count showed almost a hundred.
And that—was just the vanguard.
Clang, clang—the sound of armored plates colliding, heavy footsteps advancing. With each step, a wave of darkness and pressure crashed over the crowd. Ordinary folks could barely breathe, feeling as if Death itself was swinging a scythe right behind them, ready to take their heads.
Even Luo Yuxi couldn't help but grit her teeth. She instinctively gripped her broken sword's hilt—blade snapped, but her fighting spirit unbroken. She forced herself to stare into the jungle, toward the source of those heavy footsteps.
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A massive shadow slowly shifted from blurry to clear.
It was a humanoid figure, perfectly proportioned, but over three meters tall. From a distance, it looked like a dark knight clad in demonic armor, cape billowing, as imposing as Sauron from the movies.
But as it came closer, the truth became clear—it wasn’t human at all, but a conglomerate of sword blades!
Its hands, its feet, its armor—every part was made of blades, big and small! It reached out and grabbed a nearby tree, slicing it to splinters with a single grip. It even had a helmet, but those with sharp eyes could see that beneath it was nothing but darkness—pure void.
The whole thing was just a writhing mass of blades—each one a piece of its body!
This was Blademaw—a death demon made entirely of legendary blades!
No wonder it was Mordor's deadliest assassin—no flesh and blood could ever stand against it. The battle-hardened elven knights drew their bows, but even arrows blessed with holy water inspired little confidence. One by one, important figures had already fallen to this unbeatable mass of blades. Now it marched with its army—how could anyone stop it?
A civilian grabbed the chubby guy: "You think you can handle that?"
"Uh..." The chubby guy swallowed hard. "I mean... probably? Maybe?"
Blademaw ignored all the small fry—its void-like gaze locked straight onto Teacher Yang. The nearly invisible blade began to buzz and strain, revving up for a fight.
"Careful! Those blades are its body—the closer you get, the stronger it gets!" Gandalf jumped in with some sideline coach wisdom: "Watch out! Don't let it catch you off guard! Jasper Xiao, hit it with holy light—that's the fastest way!"
"No need." Teacher Yang waved a hand over the blade—no big gesture, just a crisp clang as the sword shattered instantly. With a flick, she swept the lifeless shards into her inventory space and calmly stared at Blademaw: "That's the fastest way."
Gandalf was speechless.
"Screeeech—!" Blademaw let out a furious roar, like a thousand blades scraping together—or a hundred rowdy kids clawing at a chalkboard. Everyone clapped their hands to their ears and shouted.
Thwack, thwack, thwack—the archers launched their attack. Bowstrings snapped, arrows shot out like lightning, more than a hundred Piercing Arrows of Purity streaked through the air. But Blademaw just waved a hand, and the floating blades swirled up, blocking the arrows mid-flight. A few managed to hit, but Blademaw's blade-body was basically immune.
Getting an arrow stuck in its head? Blademaw couldn't care less.
Blademaw waved again, and a hundred-plus floating blades formed up in battle array. The monsters howled and charged, the blades shot forward like missiles, unleashing a terrifying wave of lethal force.
"I am a servant of the Sacred Flame—evil, begone!" Gandalf gritted his teeth and raised his staff, gathering a surge of magic: "Minions of Sauron, get back to the void where you belong!"
Blademaw wasn't about to back down after being taunted. It stomped forward, took a deep breath, and lifted its head, ready to unleash another mind-shattering roar.
But just as it reared up, a multi-ton boulder came crashing down in front of it...
Where’d that rock come from? When did it show up?
Nobody knew—nobody saw it coming. Everyone looked around, but there was no catapult anywhere that could launch something that big. All they knew was that the posturing Blademaw got smacked hard, and its sentry blades flopped like kindling. The boulder rumbled through the forest, smashing countless trees and leaving a battered path in its wake.
Scattered along the path were broken swords—like wreckage and shattered bones...