Bringing the MC system to Middle-earth

Clang!

The glasses collided, making a crisp sound as the two brothers, both generals, toasted their soldiers and then each other.

"Remember this day, brother."

Boromir laughed heartily, "Today, life is good!"

Faramir returned the smile, and the two of them drank the fine wine in their glasses, their joy beyond words.

But happy times are always short.

Suddenly, the observant Faramir turned his head, looking into the distance.

The smile on his face faded.

"What's wrong?"

Boromir asked, puzzled.

"He's here."

Faramir said, and Boromir turned his head as well.

They saw a particularly prominent figure approaching with a smile, chatting with the soldiers, patting one on the shoulder, and encouraging another.

On this celebratory day, he had abandoned his usual stern silence, mingling with everyone.

"He won't even leave us a moment of peace."

Boromir whispered to his brother, his smile turning into helplessness.

"Where is he?"

Denethor asked the soldiers.

"Where is Gondor's finest, my eldest son?"

"Father!"

Even though he felt helpless, out of filial piety and good character, Boromir still smiled and walked over to embrace his father.

And the old Steward truly thought highly of this eldest son.

"They say you almost single-handedly defeated the enemy."

"That's an exaggeration. Faramir was just as brave and resourceful, and his contribution was significant."

Upon hearing this, Denethor immediately became displeased.

"If it weren't for Faramir, the city wouldn't need to be retaken at all."

He said to Faramir, who was standing aside, "Weren't you responsible for guarding the East City? I heard you dragged Boromir away without a fight?"

"I could have held it, but we had too few men to mount an effective defense. If we hadn't done that, we would have only suffered pointless losses…"

Faramir explained helplessly and weakly, but Denethor clearly didn't want to hear his words.

If someone dislikes something, even if it's good and beneficial, they will only see flaws in it.

"Oh, too few men."

Denethor interrupted his younger son, sternly saying, "You allowed the enemy to come and go as they pleased, easily occupying the city without suffering even the slightest loss."

"And then you complain to me about this and that."

"That was not my intention."

Faced with his father's questioning, Faramir seemed helpless.

And dejected.

Boromir couldn't stand it any longer, and he rarely argued with his father:

"You never give him any credit, even though he has always been loyal and obedient."

"He loves you, Father."

"Don't bother me with Faramir. I know his only skill is having no skill."

Denethor seemed impatient.

Looking at his father, Boromir was speechless and could only remain silent.

An old man's unfair treatment often causes discord among the younger generation.

With a father who elevates his eldest son by stepping on his younger son, it's truly remarkable that the brothers' relationship is so close.

The two could only silently endure their father's disparagement. Faramir was a thoughtful person who never argued, while Boromir was more straightforward, but even when dissatisfied, he would only retort like today, saying a few words for his brother.

In any case, overall, no matter how dissatisfied the brothers were, they obeyed their father's orders.

Because their old father was truly formidable in his youth.

When he was on the front lines, he could always lead the soldiers to rout the Orcs, even reaching the gates of Mordor. When he was in the rear, he could always detect the enemy's movements at the first moment, making appropriate decisions as if he could foresee them.

There were rumors that Denethor once chased Ringwraiths with an iron sword on the plains of Ithilien. How brave was that?

Faced with that man and his iron sword, the Ringwraiths could only temporarily retreat, avoiding his sharp edge.

Yet, when facing the Ringwraiths, the brothers could only temporarily make a strategic retreat, carefully maneuvering with their army.

Therefore, the two had always faithfully obeyed their father's orders, respecting his majesty and loving his kinship.

Simply because this father was truly formidable, they were sincerely convinced.

"Father…"

Boromir took a breath, choosing to temporarily change the subject, and said, "Father, I had a dream."

"Oh, what dream?"

Even on the front lines, but on such a festive and relaxing day, Denethor didn't mind chatting with his son and fostering their relationship.

"I dreamed of thunder rumbling in the sky, dark clouds covering the earth, but a light pierced through the clouds, and that light came from the north."

"I dreamed of a silver-white army, dreamed of a meeting in a peaceful land, a meeting where Isildur's Bane appeared, and a Halfling stepped forward."

"I foresee this is the hope to end the people's suffering."

"Hope?" Denethor seemed disdainful.

He said sternly, "I never believe in illusory hope. Victory should be won by ourselves with iron will and bloody struggle."

"But Faramir also had this dream."

Boromir said, "I don't think this is a coincidence, Father."

"Faramir wants to set off to the place indicated in the dream."

Denethor snorted coldly, and said, "Then let him go!"

"No, Father, this road is dangerous and unpredictable. I want to go myself."

"You?"

Denethor frowned deeply.

"You spoil him too much. It will ruin him."

"Please allow me to set off."

Boromir lowered his head, his tone calm, but with a great determination within it.

Denethor stared at him, silent for a long while.

"Heh, my good son has really grown up, daring to talk back to his own father like this."

"I…"

"Then go."

Sighing, Denethor pondered for a moment, reached into his robe, and took out a golden, gleaming apple.

The old father, who had been stern his whole life, finally allowed Boromir to be willful once.

He told Boromir about the apple's use and its origin.

"I have been injured countless times in my life, but each time, I couldn't bear to use it."

"But I hope that in times of danger, you can use it on yourself. This is my selfish wish."

An indestructible iron sword, a golden apple… and love.

"I give you everything I hold dear."

"Go, Boromir, I believe in you."

"Yes, Father."

Feeling this deep paternal love, Boromir felt a warmth in his heart.

But this warmth dissipated in an instant.

"Right."

Denethor reminded him, "The 'Isildur's Bane' you mentioned, I know what it is. It's the enemy's strongest weapon—the One Ring."

"Mordor is gathering a large army, and Sauron is waiting for an opportunity. If he gets that ring, everything will be over. At that time, we will not be able to stop his advance."

"If your dream is really so accurate, if the One Ring really appears in the north…"

Denethor suddenly said, "Listen to me, Boromir, the ring must be properly guarded."

"It must not fall into enemy hands."

"I know that ring is very dangerous. It can corrupt people's hearts, but I believe in you. Your will is strong, and you will be able to resist the temptation."

"Think about it, Boromir, for so many years, it has always been our soldiers who have shed blood and made sacrifices on the front lines, blocking Mordor and many southern forces from infringing on the freedom of the people. Even the great northern kingdom led by Levi has not done more than us in this regard."

"You understand what I mean, right?"

"…"

Boromir lowered his head, his eyes trembling.

At the city gate of Osgiliath, Boromir bid his final farewell.

"Remember this day, brother."

"Remember this day full of joy and hope… and parting."

On this day, Boromir, who had just won a victory, removed his heavy armor and set off lightly with a set of armor that was more convenient for movement, heading north all the way.

At the same time, Gandalf and Aragorn led four hobbits from Bree, heading east.

Their pace was obviously faster than Boromir's.

"Welcome, it's a coincidence, I just got back too."

At the gate of Rivendell, Levi dismounted to welcome the six who had come—a wizard, a ranger, and four hobbits.

"Well, it's indeed a coincidence. I just met these guys when I arrived in Bree."

Gandalf began to explain the situation to Levi, while Aragorn, as usual, silently sat there.

Like other older rangers, when there was no need to speak, they were silent and taciturn, like a stone.

"Wow—"

However, the other four hobbits were not as calm as him. They raised their heads and stared at everything in Rivendell.

"This is more beautiful than any scenery I've ever seen. Look at that tree!"

Merry exclaimed, raising his hand and pointing to the distant Mallorn tree.

"I've heard of it."

Frodo said, "Bilbo told me that it's called 'Mallorn tree'. It's a species unique to the Golden Wood east of the Misty Mountains. Only one exists west of the Misty Mountains, and it's in Rivendell."

"Then we must take a good look."

"I'm a little hungry, can we eat first?"

Sam was the calmest of the four, mainly because this fat hobbit was really hungry.

"Mr. Frodo, look at what kind of days we've been living these past few days. There are only three meals a day, and these two don't even eat second breakfast, elevenses, afternoon tea, or supper."

Listening to Sam's complaints, Frodo felt a little helpless.

"There's no way, we have to learn to adapt, Sam."

Adapt?

Some people don't think so.

Pippin rolled his eyes, quietly walked behind Aragorn, and suddenly popped out and shouted, "Hey! Strider!"

Aragorn looked at Pippin, who suddenly appeared, expressionless, without any reaction.

The two stared at each other for a long while, and Aragorn said:

"Give up, Levi used this trick on me when I was a kid."

"Okay, boring."

Pippin was discouraged, and then said, "By the way, you're familiar with this place, right? My friend is hungry, can you take us to find something to eat?"

"We're all here in Rivendell for the first time. I've heard that many good wines and delicious foods are produced here, as well as pipe-weed. The pipe-weed here has a unique taste, a sense of peace, and the quality is very stable."

Aragorn chuckled.

"Peaceful, stable."

He muttered these two words and replied, "That's indeed true."

"Aragorn, come here!" As he was speaking, Gandalf waved to him.

So Aragorn stood up and said to Pippin, "You don't need me to lead you. Just go in, and someone will tell you what to do."

"Wait, what if there are people with bad intentions, like that spy in Bree?"

"There won't be."

Aragorn waved his hand and turned to walk towards Gandalf and Levi.