"Too strong, Sir Igon!"
Kili cheered excitedly as he watched Igon's unerring archery.
He immediately imitated Igon, drawing his bow and shooting an arrow at a distant warg, but Kili's arrow did not hit the warg like Igon's.
It wasn't that the arrow Kili shot lost its momentum and fell swaying onto the canopy of a tree in the village before even flying out of the village entrance.
But Kili didn't feel much surprise at this scene.
He just looked at the short bow in his hand, then at the large bow in Igon's hand that was even taller than himself, pouting and shrugging.
This is definitely a hardware gap, not my problem.
Kili comforted himself in his heart.
Igon's actions continued, and at this time, the hunter who had run to the village chief's house had just arrived at the bell tower.
The hunter had naturally seen the two people on the bell tower long ago, but he did not drive Igon and Kili, one Human and one dwarf, away from the bell tower.
Instead, while panting and using the key given by the village chief to open the door, he shouted upwards, "Who are you! Oh, never mind that. Did you see the rope under the bell? Help me ring the bell!"
"Kili, give a hand," Igon said, shooting arrows from the top of the bell tower.
Kili, beside Igon, nodded. He leaped lightly, landing precisely on the platform, his boots making a dull thud on the stone surface.
The rope danced in Kili's strong hands, and with each swing, the bell emitted a rapid and piercing sound.
"Dong dong dong dong—!"
The bell echoed through the village, making every household that had experienced orc attacks understand what was happening.
The doors of every household were tightly shut, and through the window lattices, one could see the nervous expressions on the faces of women, both old and young.
However, although their expressions were tense, they were not panicked.
The women hugged their children tightly in their men's arms and comfort, humming lullabies with suppressed trembling voices, hiding in places within their homes that were not easily found by outsiders.
Meanwhile, the men picked up whatever could be used as weapons in their homes, such as chopping axes, sickles, or pitchforks, pushed open their doors, and walked out.
The previous few orc attacks had taught the villagers that these evil dark creatures would show no mercy to them.
If the villagers showed weakness or unwillingness to resist, they would only intensify their slaughter to satisfy their desires.
In the center of the village, the bell continued to reverberate, each strike like a hammer blow to people's hearts.
The men, armed with various sharp tools, instinctively converged towards the village guard's location, and the village chief, supported by David, had already arrived at the guard's compound.
Although it was called a village guard, it was merely a patrol team spontaneously formed by some experienced old hunters and spirited, strong young men in the village.
They only had experience in fighting a few orcs and could not be called qualified warriors.
After the bell rang, the young men who were still eating dinner showed a flicker of panic on their faces, put down their bowls, and stood up but didn't know what to do next, only recovering after being scolded by several old hunters.
"What are you panicking about! The bell tower key is with the village chief. Since the bell has been rung, it means the village chief already knew and must be on his way. Bring your hunting bow and quiver, and get ready to slaughter those orc scums." An old hunter with a chin full of silvery stubble kicked a young man who still looked a bit baby-faced and scolded him.
The village chief pushed open the door directly, revealing his face, which was purple-red from the cold wind, and said to everyone in the house, "orc warg scouts are approaching from the west of the village. The Knight and wizard who came to the village today have already gone ahead. Quickly pick up your weapons, and go to the west to help."
The old hunter nodded, and after seeing the young men start to move, he saw the village chief, supported by David, also about to pick up a short, sharpened wooden stick, and quickly stopped him, "Don't get involved in this matter when you're drunk. David, quickly hold the village chief back."
The village chief glared, grumbling discontentedly, "I am the village chief, how can I hide behind the young people in the village?"
The old hunter showed a disgusted expression on his face: "Don't play the hero at a time like this. Your drunken appearance would be good if you didn't cause trouble. Do you really think I'm worried about you? David, you watch him for me, he must stay here until he's sober."
David nodded blankly: "Huh? Okay."
Then the old hunter glanced at the others who were ready, shook his head at the drunken village chief, and walked out.
West, outside the village.
The distant bell rang, and the wargs' sensitive ears caught the sudden sound, knowing their whereabouts had been completely exposed.
The wargs began to howl, their voices echoing in the night sky, spreading far away.
This was not the anger of defeat, but a call to the Orcs—the wargs truly needed support.
Because the sharpshooter in the village had unknowingly killed eight of their kin.
Behind the warg scouts, the orc rider on a warg, who was also the orc who 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 that the master has a bounty on, bring his head to me!"
"Yes, sir."
Hordes of orcs, riding wargs, continuously surged out from behind Yazneg.
"Don't attack from one direction, split up and attack, make that wizard busy defending!"
Yazneg shouted loudly again.
In terms of numbers, although there were not as many orcs as in the night raid on Arthur's territory, there were still over a hundred.
If you also count the warg scouts who attacked first, it goes straight to nearly one hundred and thirty.
The people in David's village probably couldn't imagine that the orcs attacking this time were not as simple as the previous dozen orcs, but an entire force of orc warg riders.
They were a professional army, not the orcs who specialized in looting and pillaging before.
These orcs and wargs were enough to burn the entire village to the ground, and the dwarves would have no chance of escape.
The reason an entire trained force of orc warg riders came this time was because of Arthur and his group.
Originally, Yazneg didn't want to bring an entire force of warg riders, firstly because he thought it was unnecessary, and secondly because he didn't have the authority to lead such an army.
But another companion of his, who remained in Bree, heard that there was a wizard in the dwarf party, and not only that, but also two Humans wearing armor.
Based on the description of the armor's features, Yazneg instantly recognized one of the armored Humans as the wizard who should have been in Minhiriath, who had slaughtered all the orcs in that area and also occupied Limgrave Greatbridge, which his master had worked hard to rebuild for many days.
Yazneg's memory told him that this wizard was also very different from other wizards that the orcs had seen.
He was full of martial prowess, and upon seeing an orc, he would even actively wield a greatsword taller than himself and charge forward. He could also use Glintstone Magic that was not weak in lethality.
Completely unlike other wizards, who would try not to make a move unless absolutely necessary.
So Yazneg, using his limited intelligence, came to a conclusion: if he went with a dozen warg riders to provoke these dwarves, it would purely be adding a few more heads to that wizard's kill count.
So, while continuing to track the dwarves, it had its squad return to Wind Peak via the Green Boulevard.
That was where its master was currently located, and it needed to report these matters to its master.
Evidently, its master also felt apprehensive about that wizard, even going so far as to dispatch an entire well-trained and well-equipped unit of warg riders to deal with him and the dwarves.
When Yazniege saw this entire army of warg riders, his heart was also incredibly shocked, but soon the bloodlust rising within him made him grin savagely.
Just like his current expression.
Yazniege was already fantasizing about cutting off the heads of the wizard and the dwarves, and the rewards he would receive after presenting them to his master.
Just as Yazniege was thinking this, the orcs charging at the front suddenly began to stir in commotion, and their speed started to decrease.
"What's going on?!" Yazniege roared impatiently.
However, the warg beneath him twitched its nose a few times, as if it smelled something, and let out a low, uneasy growl from its throat.
Then a rumbling sound echoed from ahead, growing increasingly loud.
A massive torrent of teal-blue magic, carrying an aura of destruction, arrived in an instant, grazing Yazniege's right ear and continuing to rush backward.
Who knows how much time passed.
Like a long day, yet seemingly just a fleeting moment, the magical turmoil finally subsided.
The surrounding air, as if just awakened from a nightmare, was filled with slowly dissipating teal-blue magic particles, which shimmered with their last light under the moonlight, like gradually fading stardust in the night sky.
On the ground, the rampant magic left indelible marks; the earth had split open with a wound.
Yazniege was thrown to the ground by the warg, landing in a sitting position, while the warg's body slumped limply to the side.
Then intense pain emanated from the right side of Yazniege the orc rider's body; his gaze followed the sensation of pain, only to see that his right arm, lower leg, and a portion of his torso had vanished.
The cross section was incredibly smooth and regular, as if suddenly severed by a sharp blade.
Dark blood, like an uncontrolled spring, gushed from his mutilated limbs.
At that moment, he suddenly realized that the warg had not intentionally thrown him off.
Instead, its entire massive right half of its body had evaporated, leaving only its left half limply falling onto the muddy ground.
The warg's incomplete internal organs and gushing blood poured from the severed section, like a desperate red river, slowly flowing across the cold ground, reflecting Yazniege's despairing and bewildered emotions.
What, what was that?
Yazniege felt his life force, like sand in an hourglass, draining away bit by bit.
A cold sensation spread from his limbs and bones, until it consumed his consciousness.
Yazniege's vision was gradually enveloped by darkness, with only a faint glimmer remaining.
He clumsily and laboriously crawled with his intact left hand and left leg, like an abandoned wild dog.
The next moment, a teal-blue torrent identical to the previous one abruptly filled Yazniege's remaining vision, and then, like a television set being powered off, his consciousness disconnected with a "snap," plunging into eternal darkness.
Two minutes ago.
Arthur stood resolutely on the road leading to the village, his brow slightly furrowed as he watched the approaching wargs.
Although Igon's archery had eliminated some wargs, a significant number remained.
If Arthur were to rely on himself alone, without using Glintstone Magic, those wargs could easily use their mobility to bypass him and enter the village directly.
Even if Arthur rode Torrent, it would be the same; there was an inherent massive unfairness between the attacking and defending sides.
That is, the attacking side only needed to consider offense, while the defending side had much more to consider.
However, the amount of Cerulean Tear Flask he had prepared for this outing was not much, probably only enough for about four sips.
Therefore, Arthur's furrowed brow was due to him contemplating which Glintstone Magic could eliminate these wargs with the lowest magic consumption.
Just then, the village bell rang urgently, and the wargs rushing towards him began to howl, followed by dozens of times more orc warg Riders than warg scouts appearing from the direction the warg scouts had come from.
This, instead, relaxed Arthur's tightly furrowed brow, because the number of enemies exceeded his imagination, so he no longer needed to consider the problem of conserving magic.
He certainly couldn't intercept all these enemies by himself, so he only needed to consider eliminating most of them without exhausting all his magic at once.
After all, Arthur was not currently within the Erdtree's protective range, and the Cerulean Tear Flask would not slowly restore its blessing.
The remaining small portion of enemies could be handled by Bernal and Thorin.
Thus, in the warg scouts' eerie green eyes, Arthur suddenly removed his Blaidd, the Half-Wolf helmet, and then placed a head-shaped object resembling a dark green gem on his head, with old cloth wrapped around his face.
And then… Arthur quickly searched his spatial backpack for the talismans needed to cast that Glintstone Magic.
He had grown accustomed to directly attacking with a greatsword, and it had been too long since he had used this Glintstone Magic, so he was slightly rusty.
Radagon's Soreseal, Marika's Soreseal, and Magic Scorpion Charm.
Three "talismans" of different colors and shapes were held in Arthur's hand, then quickly placed into a talisman pouch.
Finally, what appeared in Arthur's hand was a dark green crystal staff, the Azur Comet staff, identical in color to the gem on his head.
The preparations for casting the Glintstone Magic were almost complete, and the wargs were only about sixty meters away from Arthur.
But Arthur showed no panic; instead, he first raised his staff, and a magical array emitting a brilliant azure glow instantly lit up beneath his feet.
[Glintstone Magic: Terra Magica]
The effect of the magic array was very simple: it increased the power of Glintstone Magic cast by anyone within the array.
Then, a slender Flask of Wondrous Physick appeared in Arthur's hand, currently glowing with a blue light.
The warg scouts were getting closer, only about forty meters away.
Arthur popped the cork of the Flask of Wondrous Physick and drank the blue liquid within it, as if an endless surge of magic burst forth from his body, and his cloak billowed behind him without wind.
Twenty meters.
Arthur looked at the Wargs; both sides could now see the expressions on each other's faces and their fine hairs.
Oh, excuse me, the wargs couldn't see Arthur's expression, as it was obscured by the dark green gem.
Fifteen meters.
Arthur raised his right hand, the tip of his staff pointed at the wargs and the orc riders surging behind them.
The monkey show is over, taste my Azur Comet !!!
A surging torrent of magic appeared out of nowhere, instantly occupying the vision of all eyes looking in that direction.
For a moment, that teal-blue glow even overshadowed the brilliant moonlight.
Arthur: Are you saying that, by chance, this group of enemies, before they could even scatter, charged straight at me from afar in an almost linear formation?
It wasn't that the commanding orc didn't order them to scatter, it's just that Azur Comet was too fast.