LOTR: TMCP Ch. 400

Unexpectedly, even after taking a direct hit from the combined attack of Garrett and Weymir, Sauron wasn't injured in the slightest. Dispelling the black mist surrounding him, he suddenly charged forward, leapt high into the air, and swung his spiked mace.

Caught off guard, Weymir took the heavy blow and staggered backward several steps, nearly throwing Garrett off his back.

That strike was immensely powerful, so much so that some of Weymir's scales loosened, and his health bar dropped slightly.

"Go deal with the Nazgûl and Mordor's army," Garrett ordered briefly before leaping down to face Sauron again in person.

Weymir immediately flew off to engage Mordor's high-value large targets. He knew well enough that he wasn't a match for that armored figure.

The battlefield roared on with chaos, and the scale of the clash was among the greatest of the entire age. As the attacking side, the human alliance army was magnificent, covering the war plains like a flood of light. It seemed they were reenacting the grand might of the Last Alliance, once hailed as the strongest army ever assembled in Middle-earth.

The opposing force surged like a dark tide rising on a stormy, moonless night. There were orcs, Uruk-hai, trolls, Olog-hai, Mordor's native spiders from the southern valleys, and savage beasts bred in the northern pits. The land was filled with countless screeching, wicked creatures, an endless sea of darkness. And yet, despite this, it was clear to anyone that Mordor was the side at a disadvantage.

The human alliance was like a sharp blade driving straight into the enemy ranks, forcing the armies of Mordor back step by step toward the Black Gate. At the tip of that blade was Garrett. As he pressed Sauron backward, the army behind him surged forward in unison, sweeping aside enemies on both flanks.

Their momentum was unstoppable.

As the alliance pushed deeper into Mordor, the battlefront widened, and they faced more and more enemies.

Outside the Black Gate, they had only needed to face enemies from one direction. But once inside, danger came from every side. There was no place that wasn't hostile. The deeper they advanced, the heavier the pressure became, and the tighter the enemy's encirclement grew. It was hard to tell whether Sauron was truly being driven back by Garrett, or merely feigning retreat to lure the human army deeper into his trap.

But his plan failed. The alliance stood firm like an iron wall at the shore, unshaken despite the black tide crashing against it.

However, elsewhere, things were different.

---

At the pass of Cirith Ungol near Minas Morgul, shadows began to creep from the depths of the earth to the surface above.

"The scent of flesh..."

Deep underground, Shelob, who was resting to recover from her wounds, felt the vibration of her webs, and caught the sweet, tender aroma unique to weak prey. She stirred her injured body and began to crawl upward.

There she saw Gollum. And with him, two Hobbits. The three seemed to be arguing about something. What they were arguing about didn't matter. A bit of quarreling made the prey's blood livelier, and thus, tastier.

Moments later, the fatter one left.

Gollum praised the slimmer Hobbit and gave the web a subtle tug. Then, suddenly, he slipped behind a rock and vanished, leaving only the Hobbit ahead. Shelob knew her chance had come. She lunged out and attacked, ensnaring the remaining Hobbit tightly in her web. Already weakened and desperate for nourishment, she didn't even bother watching her back.

The spider caught Frodo. Sam was behind.

"Get away from him!"

With a shout, a short sword plunged into Shelob's abdomen. She screamed in agony, the sound heart-wrenching and shrill. Taking advantage of her retreat, Sam hurriedly cut away the webs binding Frodo and poured a vial of milk into his mouth.

"Garrett said this stuff can neutralize poison. I didn't drink a drop of it, no matter how thirsty I got along the way. Please, wake up, Mr. Frodo..."

ROAR!

Frodo didn't open his eyes, but Shelob had recovered. She let out another furious shriek and lunged again, intent on devouring Sam first.

But when Sam raised that mysterious short sword, she hesitated.

"Begone, you wicked spider! This blade was a gift from the northern legend Garrett himself, given for our journey. If you don't wish to die beneath it, flee now!"

He shouldn't have said that.

At the mention of that name, Shelob was enraged.

"Don't be afraid! That man isn't here!" Gollum shouted from behind, fanning the flames.

So, suppressing the pain of her fresh wound, and the dull ache of her old injury that name had reminded her of, Shelob advanced again. Just as she was about to pounce, and Sam stood his ground before Frodo, unwilling to take a step back, a desperate, life-or-death clash was about to unfold when suddenly, a light flared.

It was Frodo. He had awoken. Seeing the monstrous spider rushing at him, and remembering Galadriel's words, he swiftly drew out the crystal phial she had given him, filled with the radiant light of hope. The light seared Shelob's eyes, nearly blinding her.

Then, together, Sam's sword and Frodo's Sting, both struck Shelob. She screamed, crashed against the rocks behind her, and her strength began to fade.

The old wounds Garrett had inflicted earlier flared up again, and now, combined with the multiple grievous injuries dealt by the two Hobbits, Shelob suddenly realized that her end was drawing near. She struggled desperately to rise, trying to flee this place.

She could not accept such a hasty, unworthy fate.

As a descendant of Ungoliant, she had devoured Men, Elves, Dwarves, nearly every living creature in Middle-earth. She had birthed countless hybrid offspring who spread through Mirkwood and the southern valleys of Mordor. Even Sauron himself had once feared her. She had woven great webs to trap mighty prey, and webs of fate to toy with innocent lives. But now, another great web had ensnared her, one she could not break free from.

That man, he had foreseen it all.

From the moment he came to this pass, when he struck her down with that terrifying sword, he had already laid the groundwork for this day. He had foreseen it long ago!

The web of fate suddenly tightened.

Her heart was filled with regret, and with a deep fear of that one whom most evil creatures would not name aloud.

Shelob fought to crawl back toward the depths of her pit, but still took two more blows. Then she fell into the abyss, vanishing into darkness.

"The next one is you, Gollum!"

Sam had not forgotten the true cause of all this misery. But when he turned toward the place where Gollum had been hiding, he found that Gollum was already gone without a trace.

"Guess you ran fast, then!"

Phew.

With the danger finally past, he exhaled deeply. He looked down at the short sword in his hand, thoughtful.

"How strange... I can feel it. This sword holds some kind of magic. When I faced that great spider, it felt like something was helping me. I think I should give it a name..."

Thinking of one of Garrett's famous blades, he suddenly said, "How about... Spider-bane?"

"A good name, Sam," Frodo agreed.

The two Hobbits continued their journey.

But without Gollum to guide them, the road ahead had suddenly become uncertain. They quietly stepped out of the cave, expecting to face the full force of Mordor's army. Yet, when they looked toward Mount Doom, they saw that the troops who should have been there were gone, all drawn northward.

The land around them was empty.

Just as they began to feel a surge of hope, a hand suddenly seized Frodo. Startled, both turned instinctively to fight back, but failed. The sudden assailant was swift and brutal, immensely strong, knocking them both to the ground with ease. When Sam looked up, he saw that their attacker was a blind, crippled Uruk.

He drew his short sword again, preparing to charge.

But at that moment, the orcs stationed in the Tower of Cirith Ungol nearby were alarmed by the commotion. At the crippled Uruk's command, they surrounded the Hobbits. It was clear that this Uruk was the leader of the tower garrison.

Sam and Frodo knew they had no chance.

Even though they resisted with all their strength, they were outnumbered by an entire squad. In the end, both were captured. Their weapons were quickly confiscated and presented to the crippled Uruk leader.

"The Master said that if we capture the Hobbits, they must be delivered unharmed."

Thanks to Sauron's orders, Sam and Frodo were spared immediate death. But when the crippled leader noticed Sam's short sword, or rather, the inscription upon it, his mind suddenly changed.

"Bring them to my chamber first. Don't breathe a word of this to anyone. I need to interrogate them myself... to uncover what secrets these spies might hold."

After brushing off his subordinates with a convenient excuse, the crippled leader sternly added, "This is also the Master's will. Anyone who disobeys or pries into this matter... I'll brand as a traitor and execute on the spot."

"For the Master!" he said devoutly.

"For the Master!" the orcs echoed in unison.