As Faramir stabilized, everyone's attention returned to the Mordor host beyond the walls.
Across the endless plains, the armies of Mordor and the Haradrim stretched to the horizon. Trolls and mammoths hauled colossal siege engines forward, methodically assembling for the assault on Minas Tirith.
After losing their fallen beasts, the Ringwraiths had already mounted new dragons, circling above the host like harbingers of doom.
At the highest tier of the White City, Denethor II stood with Faramir, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli, all staring out in grim silence.
Denethor still distrusted Aragorn, but Faramir did not.
"We've gathered our forces in advance," Faramir said quietly, breaking the silence. "Even so, we're outmatched. At best, we can hold for a week."
He hesitated, then asked, "Other than you, are there reinforcements coming?"
Despite himself, Denethor looked to Aragorn with the same question in his eyes.
Aragorn shook his head.
"Mordor has committed everything. While they march on Gondor, other armies are attacking Rohan, Lórien, the Woodland Realm, Dale, and the Lonely Mountain. No one is free to aid us."
Denethor's face drained of color.
"So Gondor truly stands alone…"
Faramir frowned, then remembered something.
"What about Hogwarts? Can't we ask Headmaster Sylas for help?"
In his mind, Hogwarts dwarfed Gondor in strength. Sylas himself was unfathomably powerful, and the Ministry's Aurors were elite beyond compare. Even a fraction of them could turn the tide.
Aragorn answered gently, but firmly.
"Hogwarts is already at war. The Witch-king of Angmar has unleashed his armies in the north, summoning wights and marching on Hogwarts and the Valley. At the same time, they're supporting Lindon and Grey Harbor against the Umbar pirates."
He paused.
"Sylas and Elrond know Gondor's plight. That's why they sent us."
"Sent you?" Denethor snapped. "The three of you?"
He laughed harshly, hysteria bleeding through the scorn.
"Are you here to be buried with us? Or do you plan to conjure an army from thin air?"
Gimli bristled.
"Oi, old man! Don't underestimate us! Even if it's just three, I'll split plenty of Orc skulls with this axe!"
Legolas calmly grabbed Gimli's arm before things escalated. Whatever his thoughts, Denethor was still Gondor's regent.
Legolas rested a hand on his bow instead, eyes fixed on the vast enemy host beyond the walls.
The longbow on Legolas's back was a gift from Sylas, a gold-plated bow that automatically conjured arrows of light when drawn. Each arrow carried perfect accuracy and detonated on impact.
In essence, it was a longbow-shaped wand, with the Explosion Charm permanently inscribed and stabilized within it. As long as the wielder's mana held, it could fire endlessly.
For Legolas, already peerless in archery, this weapon elevated his combat power even further. In his hands, not even an ordinary wand could compare to the destructive precision of that bow.
Unmoved by Denethor II's taunts, Aragorn spoke calmly.
"Your Highness, Lord Sylas and Lord Elrond truly sent only the three of us. But they knew we would not turn the tide of the war by force alone. That is why they sent us to seek help elsewhere. Once that help arrives, Gondor's crisis can be resolved."
"Help?" Faramir asked immediately, hope flaring in his eyes. "What help?"
Denethor II frowned deeply. With every realm of Middle-earth already locked in battle against Mordor, what power could possibly come to Gondor's aid now?
Aragorn did not evade the question.
"The Dark Door in the White Mountains. Before I departed, Lord Sylas instructed me to go there. He said help would be found beyond it."
"The Dark Door?!"
Both Denethor II and Faramir gasped.
Denethor knew the White Mountains well. They formed the boundary between Gondor and Rohan, and the Dark Door was infamous even among legends.
Beyond it lay the Paths of the Dead. No one who entered had ever returned alive.
Over the centuries, countless warriors and adventurers from Gondor and Rohan had tried to explore that forbidden land. None had survived. It had become a place synonymous with death itself.
In Denethor's eyes, Aragorn's words were nothing short of madness.
As Regent, Denethor had once used the Palantír to peer into that land. What he saw, mountains of bones, endless wandering spirits, and the looming presence of the King of the Dead, had nearly exposed him.
From that moment on, he never dared look there again.
Seeing Denethor's grim stare and Faramir's obvious concern, Aragorn offered no further explanation.
He refused Legolas's and Gimli's insistence on accompanying him, ordering them to remain in Minas Tirith and defend the city.
Then, without another word, Aragorn Apparated away.
Because Minas Tirith lay against the White Mountains, and was not far from the Dark Door, also hidden within those peaks, Aragorn reached his destination after several careful Apparitions.
He emerged in the Valley of Mercond, deep in the southern White Mountains.
This was the southern exit of the Dark Door, different from the northern entrance Sylas had once used. Thanks to Sylas's prior warning, Aragorn remained on high alert the entire way, yet still arrived safely at the empty cavern where the dead were said to gather.
The moment a living presence entered, the valley stirred.
Ghosts awakened from their long slumber, rising silently from piles of ancient bones. A freezing aura spread through the cave, so cold it felt as if it pierced straight into the soul.
A voice echoed, dry, hoarse, and filled with death.
"Who dares trespass into this land of the dead and disturb the rest of the departed?"
"Since you have come… leave your body behind, and let it rot with us."
From the darkness stepped a crowned specter, its translucent form glowing faintly. Green flames burned within its hollow eye sockets as it stared down at Aragorn.
More spirits emerged, one after another, until Aragorn was surrounded on all sides.
Sensing their hostility, Aragorn drew his longsword, his posture guarded but steady.
Then he spoke clearly, without fear.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir of Isildur."
"I come at the command of Lord Sylas of Hogwarts, to claim a vow sworn long ago."
..
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