Boromir gasped for air. The sword in his hand was extremely heavy, but he still tried hard to hold the hilt tightly, his breathing rapid and hot. The armor on his body was covered in scars, his helmet had been thrown away, his quiver was empty, and his longbow was broken. It's already a doomsday situation.
But he didn't dare to relax, because his enemy was a berserk troll.
Boromir moved carefully, looking for a fatal blow. Finally, the enemy moved. The giant stick, carrying the evil wind, hit the brave Boromir hard.
Boromir rolled hard to avoid the troll's giant club. He picked up a spear on the ground, roared, and stabbed the troll's left eye fiercely.
The enemy let out a scream that shook the sky, and then fell to the ground.
Boromir rolled continuously in embarrassment to avoid being hit. However, because of this, the spear in Boromir's hand broke into multiple pieces, leaving only a long sword.
But even so, Boromir still stood up unyielding, and with despair and fear, he shouted a loud war cry at the enemies coming at him like a tide: "Gondor will never surrender!"
Behind him, Minas Tirith, once the White City, the residence of kings and prime ministers, has fallen into a sea of fire. Broken swords, spears, broken shields, and torn armor are scattered all over the place. It was originally spacious and clean. The streets were paved with the corpses of soldiers and innocent civilians, so many that the sewers and stairs were filled with dark red and unknown blood!
Not far away from him, his younger brother Faramir knelt down at the city gate, with many spears and sharp arrows stuck in his body. One of the fatal ones even penetrated the armor fiercely and came out from the back.
However, even so, when Faramir fell, he still clenched the sword in his hand, turned his back to the royal court, and did not take a step back.
And his father, Denethor II, died on the throne of the king long before the decisive battle.
So, Boromir took one last look at the seven-story stone city that was originally as beautiful as a fairyland in the dim light of day. But now it was obscured by the black shadow coming from the east, and the scene of hell with blazing fire everywhere revealed a heartbroken and sad person. A relieved smile.
"For Gondor!"
He raised his long sword and charged at the enemies coming at him like a tide.
"No!"
In a military camp in the ruins of Osgilias, a majestic man suddenly sat up from his camp bed. He has long black hair and gray eyes, and is handsome and noble.
He is Boromir Hurin, son of Denethor II and current crown prince of Gondor.
"grown ups?"
The guards outside the tent rushed in immediately.
However, after the crown prince sat in silence for a while, he said to the loyal guard: "Get out, I'm fine." The guard did not dare to ask any more questions and could only retreat.
Boromir, who was left alone, sat there for a long time. It wasn't until hope appeared on the horizon that Boromir suddenly stood up. After simply washing and dressing up, he walked out of this simple tent.
He nodded and passed through the guards who were keeping vigil in return. When the other soldiers who had just stood up saw the crown prince approaching alone, they all stood up and saluted him.
Boromir inherited the majesty and severity of the current king, and because he has been in the army all year round, he also contains the open-mindedness and passion of a warrior.
In addition, Boromir had led troops to repulse barbarian attacks many times. People were looking forward to this crown prince who, although still young, was already a qualified general.
Boromir walked alone to the best-preserved bell tower in the ruins of Osgilias and looked out in all directions.
As a result, the first thing that caught my eye was the shocking ruins of the ruined walls of Osgiliath and the gloomy black shadow on the horizon. Since Mount Olojuin erupted again, its thick volcanic ash and smoke are like a thick ink, gradually spreading to the west.
Although the sunshine from the east pierced the long and cold mountains of the Shadow Mountains and fell on the earth, a large black shadow still weighed heavily on the hearts of all the people of Gondor.
In the distance, the shadow of the old Tower of the Rising Moon and today's Minas Morgul stands dimly in the mountains to the east.
Plus the freezing air.
With the howling cold wind.
Boromir's heart became heavier.
No one knew what the crown prince was thinking at that moment, but when he stood in the cold wind for a whole morning, someone finally couldn't help it anymore.
Boromir heard a burst of rhythmic footsteps. It was neither heavy nor light. Each step was taken extremely firmly, as if nothing in the world could shake the owner of the footsteps.
"Faramir."
The crown prince said without looking back, "Look at this place. Can you imagine that this was once the most magnificent and beautiful capital city in our country?"
Behind him, a tall man with a similar appearance to Boromir, but younger, with softer cheek lines and softer eyes, stood one body away from Boromir.
"One day, we will restore it to its original glory." Faramir said, his expression unwavering. "Under your leadership, brother."
Boromir turned around, a smile appearing on his lips. "You are always so confident, Faramir." He hugged his brother's shoulders warmly and intimately, as if he were young: "But you are too upright. We are brothers, Faramir, you don't need to be so cautious. Be careful with your words and actions.”
Faramir also showed a sunny smile. Because Denethor II, for some reason, was always stern and ruthless in his involvement in domestic and foreign disputes, and did not have much love for his children. Therefore, when they were very young, the two brothers supported each other to practice martial arts and play games together. In the evening, we listened to those familiar and exciting adventure stories together.
When they grew up, their brother, who was several years older than Faramir, was better than him in martial arts and strategy. Boromir was not only heroic and prestigious in the hearts of the soldiers, but also always protected him. Therefore, Faramir was sincere. He likes and trusts his brother Wang.
only.
"What's bothering you?" A hint of melancholy and worry flashed through Faramir's eyes, which were almost identical to his brother's. "I heard that you have been standing here all morning."
Boromir was silent for a moment. He let go of his brother and stopped talking.
Faramir waited patiently.
a long time.
The crown prince turned around, looked at the ominous black shadow in the distance on the horizon, looked at the eerie spire of Minas Morgul, and said, "Faramir, do you believe the prophecy?"
"Sometimes, prophecy is just what we think in our hearts!" A glimmer of light flashed in Faramir's eyes: "Sometimes, it is indeed the revelation of fate!"
"In our legend, some people will have the ability to prophesy at the destined time." Boromir whispered to his brother: "And just last night, I had a dream, and the dream clearly predicted The city of kings has fallen, and our family has fallen! Faramir, what should I do?"
Faramir was silent. Then he said: "I dreamed about it too, brother."
Boromir turned his head sharply.
Faramir's determined eyes finally showed a hint of uneasiness and fear. "I dreamed that the enemy captured Minas Tirith! Our people and relatives were brutally slaughtered, and the corpses of the old royal court were scattered all over the ground! I dreamed that my father died on the throne..." He swallowed more and said: "I dreamed about you, brother..."
Boromir took a deep breath. The crown prince grabbed his brother's shoulders so hard that it almost hurt Faramir: "What else did you dream about?"
Faramir adjusted his mood and replied: "I dreamed that a voice said to me: Look for the broken sword, which is hidden in Imladris;
There will be a gathering there to discuss matters far more powerful than Morgul's spell.
During the discussion, a talisman will appear, and the outcome of your fate will be at your fingertips.
The dragon's voice penetrates the clouds, and hope is in the north.
When the old king and the new king arrive at the White City, Isildur's nemesis will die here. "
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