"Too amazing, Mr. Igon!"
Kili cheered excitedly, watching Igon's archery hit its mark with every draw.
He immediately imitated Igon's stance, drawing his bow to shoot an arrow at the distant wargs. However, Kili's arrow didn't hit the wargs like Igon's did.
It wasn't that Kili's arrow failed to even fly out of the village entrance. It lost power and wobbled before falling onto the canopy of some tree within the village.
But Kili wasn't particularly surprised by this scene.
He just looked at the short bow in his hands, then at the great bow in Igon's hands that was taller than himself, pursed his lips, and shrugged.
This was definitely a hardware difference, not his problem.
Kili comforted himself with this thought.
Igon's movements continued. At this moment, the hunter who had run to the village chief's house finally reached the bell tower.
The hunter had naturally seen the two figures on the bell tower long ago, but he didn't drive Igon and Kili, one human and one Dwarf, away from the bell tower.
On the contrary, while panting and using the key the village chief had given him to open the door, he shouted upward: "Who are you people! Ah, never mind that. Do you see the rope under the hanging bell? Help me ring the bell!"
"Kili, help out," Igon said while shooting arrows from atop the bell tower.
Kili, beside Igon, nodded. He leaped lightly and landed precisely on the platform, his boots making dull sounds on the stone surface.
The rope danced in Kili's powerful grip. With each swing, the hanging bell produced urgent, piercing sounds.
"Clang clang clang clang!"
The bell sounds echoed throughout the village, making every household that had experienced Orc attacks understand what was happening.
Doors in every household shut tight. Through the window lattices, one could see the tense expressions on the faces of women, both old and young.
However, though their expressions were tense, they weren't panicked.
The women hugged their children close in their men's embraces and comforting voices, humming lullabies with voices that suppressed trembling, hiding in places within their homes not easily found by outsiders.
Meanwhile, the men took up anything in their homes that could serve as weapons, such as wood-cutting axes, sickles, or pitchforks, and pushed open their doors to go outside.
The previous Orc attacks had taught the villagers that these evil dark creatures would show them no mercy.
If the villagers showed weakness and unwillingness to resist, they would only intensify their use of slaughter to satisfy their desires.
In the village center, the bell sounds still echoed, each strike like a hammer blow to people's hearts.
The men carrying various sharp implements all consciously gathered toward where the village guard was located, while the village chief had already arrived at the guard's compound with Davy's support.
Though called the village guard, it was actually just a patrol formed spontaneously by some experienced old hunters and vigorous young men from the village.
They only had experience fighting Orcs a few times and couldn't be called qualified warriors.
After the bell rang, the young men who had been eating dinner showed panic on their faces. They put down their bowls and stood up but didn't know what to do next, only returning to normal after being shouted at by several old hunters.
"What's the panic! The bell tower key is with the village chief. Since the hanging bell is ringing, it means the village chief already knows and is definitely on his way. Take your hunting bow and quiver, and prepare to slaughter those Orc scum." An old hunter with a chin full of silver-white stubble kicked a young man who still looked baby-faced and scolded.
The village chief directly pushed open the door, revealing his face reddened purple by the cold wind, and said to everyone inside: "Orc warg scouts are approaching from the west side of the village. The knight, gentleman, and wizard who came to the village today have already gone ahead. Quickly take up your weapons and go west to help."
The old hunter nodded. After seeing the young men all move into action, he also saw the village chief, supported by Davy, about to pick up a short, sharpened wooden stick and quickly stopped him: "Don't get involved when you're drunk. Davy, quickly hold the village chief back."
The village chief's eyes widened as he complained dissatisfiedly: "I'm the village chief! How can I hide behind the village's young men?"
The old hunter showed a disgusted expression: "Don't try to play hero at a time like this. In your drunken state, it would be good if you didn't go cause trouble. Do you really think I'm worried about you? Davy, watch him for me. He must stay here until he sobers up."
Davy nodded blankly: "Ah? Okay."
Then the old hunter looked at the others who were already prepared, shook his head at the drunken village chief, and walked out.
To the west, outside the village.
The distant bell sounds rang out. The wargs' sensitive ears caught this sudden noise, and they knew their tracks had been completely exposed.
The wargs began to howl, their voices echoing in the night sky and carrying into the distance.
This wasn't the rage of failure but a call to Orcs. The wargs really needed reinforcements.
Because the sharpshooter in the village had unknowingly eliminated eight of their companions.
Behind the warg scouts, the Orc rider on his warg, also the Orc who had discovered the Dwarves' tracks, Yazneg, shouted loudly in Black Speech: "We've been discovered! Full speed ahead! Kill all those humans and Dwarves! Especially the Dwarf with the bounty on his head—bring me his skull!"
"Yes, sir!"
Groups of Orcs riding wargs poured out endlessly from behind Yazneg.
"Don't attack from one direction! Split up the attack and make that human wizard too busy defending!"
Yazneg shouted again.
From the numbers, though not as many as the Orcs that had night-raided Tarnes' territory, there were still over a hundred.
If you counted the warg scouts that had attacked first, it was approaching one hundred and thirty.
The people in Davy's village probably couldn't imagine that this Orc attack wasn't as simple as the previous attacks of a dozen Orcs, but an entire force of Orc warg riders.
They were a professional army, not the Orcs who specialized in robbery and pillaging from before.
These Orcs and wargs were enough to burn the entire village to the ground, and the Dwarves would have no chance of escape either.
The reason an entire trained force of Orc warg riders had come this time was because of Tarnes and his group.
Originally, Yazneg hadn't wanted to bring an entire force of warg riders. First, because it felt unnecessary, and second, because it didn't have the authority to lead such an army.
But its companion left at Bree and had heard that there was a wizard in the Dwarf group, and not only that, but also two armored humans.
Based on the armor's description, Yazneg instantly recognized that one of the armored humans was the wizard who should have been in Minas Tirith, the one who had slaughtered all the Orcs in that region and seized the Lond Daer harbor that its master had worked so hard to rebuild.
Yazneg's memory told it that this wizard was very different from other wizards the Orcs had encountered.
He was martially vigorous, seeing Orcs and even actively charging at them while wielding a greatsword taller than others. He also used spells with considerable destructive power.
Completely unlike other wizards who tried to avoid fighting whenever possible.
So Yazneg used its limited intelligence to reach a conclusion: if it brought a dozen warg riders to provoke this group of Dwarves, it would purely be adding more kills to that wizard's tally.
Therefore, it continued tracking the Dwarves' trail while having its squad return to Weathertop via the Great East Road.
That was where its master was currently temporarily stationed, and it needed to report these matters to its master.
Obviously, its master was also wary of that human wizard, even going so far as to deploy an entire trained, well-equipped force of warg riders to deal with him and those Dwarves.
When Yazneg saw this entire army of warg riders, its heart was extremely shocked, but soon the bloodlust rising from within made it grin maliciously.
Just like its current expression.
Yazneg was already fantasizing about cutting off the heads of that human wizard and the Dwarves, presenting them to its master, and receiving rewards.
Just as Yazneg was thinking this, the Orcs charging ahead suddenly began to panic, and their speed started dropping.
"What's happening!" Yazneg shouted impatiently.
However, the warg beneath it twitched its nose as if smelling something, its throat emitting low, uneasy growls.
Then a rumbling sound came from ahead, growing louder.
A massive cyan-blue torrent of magical power carrying the aura of destruction arrived in an instant, brushing past Yazneg's right ear and continuing backward.
An unknown amount of time passed.
Like a long day, yet seeming only an instant, the magical turbulence finally subsided.
The surrounding air seemed to have just awakened from a nightmare. Cyan-blue magical particles slowly dispersed, flickering with final light under the moonlight like gradually retreating stardust in the night sky.
On the ground, the rampage of magic had left indelible traces. The earth had split open in a wound.
Yazneg was thrown to the ground by its warg, falling down as the warg's body collapsed limply to one side.
Then intense pain came from the right side of Yazneg, the Orc rider's body. Its gaze followed the pain, only to see that its right arm, lower leg, and part of its torso had vanished without a trace.
The cross-section was very smooth and regular, as if severed by a sharp blade.
Dark blood flowed uncontrollably like a spring from its incomplete limbs.
In that instant, it suddenly realized the warg hadn't deliberately thrown it off.
Rather, the entire right half of the large warg's body had evaporated, leaving only the left half of its corpse to fall powerlessly onto the muddy ground.
The warg's incomplete organs and flowing blood poured from the break like a river of despair, slowly flowing on the cold earth, reflecting Yazneg's desperate and bewildered emotions.
What... what was that?
Yazneg felt its life force flowing away drop by drop like sand in an hourglass.
A cold feeling spread from its limbs throughout its body until it consumed its consciousness.
Yazneg's vision was gradually shrouded in darkness, with only a trace of faint light remaining.
It crawled clumsily and with difficulty using its intact left hand and leg, like an abandoned stray dog.
The next moment, an identical cyan-blue torrent suddenly filled Yazneg's remaining vision. Then, like a television being switched off, with a "click" its consciousness disconnected, falling into eternal darkness.
Two minutes earlier.
Tarnes stood decisively on the road leading to the village, watching the continuously approaching wargs with a slight frown.
Although Igon's archery had eliminated some wargs, there were still many remaining.
With just Tarnes alone, without using magic, those wargs could completely rely on their mobility to bypass him and enter the village directly.
Even if Tarnes rode Torrent, it would be the same. There was already great unfairness between attackers and defenders.
That's how it was: attackers only needed to consider attacking, while defenders had much more to consider.
However, he hadn't prepared much of his Cerulean Flask this time, probably only enough for about four sips.
Therefore, Tarnes frowned while thinking about what spell could eliminate these wargs with the lowest magical power consumption.
Just then, the urgent bell sounds from the village rang out. The wargs running toward him began howling, followed by Orc warg riders dozens of times more numerous than the warg scouts appearing from where the scouts had emerged.
This actually made Tarnes' furrowed brow relax, because the enemy numbers exceeded his imagination, so he no longer needed to consider conserving magical power.
With so many enemies, he alone definitely couldn't intercept them all, so he only needed to consider eliminating most of the enemies without completely depleting his magical power.
After all, Tarnes wasn't currently within the Erdtree's protective range, so his Cerulean Flask wouldn't slowly restore its grace.
The remaining small portion of enemies could be handled by Bernahl, Thorin, and the others.
So, in the ghostly green eyes of the warg scouts, Tarnes suddenly removed his White Wolf helmet and placed a dark green gem-like headpiece on his head, with tattered cloth wrapping around his face.
Then... Tarnes quickly searched his spatial pack for the talismans needed to cast that spell.
He had grown accustomed to directly charging in with his greatsword and hadn't used this magic for too long, so he was slightly rusty.
Radagon Icon, Graven-School Talisman, Magic Scorpion Charm.
Three talismans of different colors and shapes were gripped in Tarnes' hand, then quickly placed in his talisman pouch.
Finally appearing in Tarnes' hand was a dark green crystal staff, the exact same color as the gem he wore on his head: Azur's Glintstone Staff.
The preparations for casting the spell were about ready, and the wargs were only about sixty meters from Tarnes.
But Tarnes showed no panic. Instead, he first raised his staff, and a magic circle radiating brilliant blue light instantly appeared beneath his feet.
Glintstone Sorcery: Terra Magica.
The magic circle's effect was very simple: it enhanced the power of magic cast by those within it.
Then a slender physick flask appeared in Tarnes' hand, currently glowing with blue light.
The warg scouts were getting closer, only about forty meters away.
Tarnes flicked open the cork of the physick flask and drained the blue liquid within. Seemingly endless surging magical power burst from within his body, making his cloak flutter without wind.
Twenty-some meters.
Tarnes looked at the wargs. Both sides could now see each other's expressions and fur.
Oh sorry, the wargs couldn't see Tarnes' expression because it was blocked by the dark green gem.
Fifteen meters.
Tarnes raised his right hand, pointing the staff tip at the wargs and the Orc riders surging behind them.
The monkey show was over. Taste my Comet Azur!
The surging torrent of magical power appeared from nothing, suddenly occupying all eyes looking in this direction.
For that instant, the cyan-blue radiance made even the bright moonlight pale in comparison.
(TL NOTE: Unfortunately, my LOTR: Playing Minecraft in Middle-earth book was mistakenly flagged as spam on Webnovel and removed. I'll re-upload it under a different title by tomorrow at the latest. Thank you for your patience!)