Shocking Change [Seeking Recommendation Tickets]

Evening.

Temporary campsite: a stretch of rocky, desolate wilderness.

The members of the expedition party were busy at work.

Today, Morgan and Kili had caught four dappled deer—an absolute bumper harvest.

The dappled deer were by no means small.

One dappled deer, combined with various dried vegetables and wild greens foraged from the surroundings, was enough to provide the entire expedition party with a hearty meal.

Of course, that was if they boiled it.

If they were to roast it, it would take two dappled deer to be enough.

Having traveled in the wild for a month, everyone in the group had become a glutton.

"Pop, pop, pop."

On a crude stove built from a few stacked stones, the fire crackled and popped.

Above the fire, the large pot on the tripod was boiling and churning continuously.

White, rich meat broth, red dried carrots, green wild vegetables, and small purple wild onions.

This pot of dappled deer meat soup looked appetizing, and its aroma was equally enticing.

After a long, dull day of trekking through the desolate mountains and ridges.

This moment was undoubtedly the most anticipated and relaxing time for all the party members.

Of course, that referred to physical relaxation.

In reality, as the expedition party moved further away from the Shire and reached the East Road, the journey had become far more dangerous than before.

Because they had stepped into the territory haunted by one of the most evil monsters in this world: the Orc.

At this moment, on a giant boulder not far from the temporary camp, Morgan was lying down, letting the cool early autumn breeze blow over him.

[Time Traveler: Morgan]
[Race: Human]
[Biological Level: Tier 1]
[Soul Power: 0]
[Attributes: Strength+; Constitution+; Agility+; Spirit+]
[Abilities: Common Language; Muay Thai LV2; White Crow Swordsmanship LV1; Archery LV2]
[Talent: Intimacy (Special Skill)]
[Current World Exploration Progress: 0.31%]

A whole month has passed.

Not only have I not gained a single point of Soul Power, I'm still at zero.

Even the world exploration progress is growing incredibly slowly.

It was 0.3% before we set off, and now it's 0.31%. A month of travel, and it's only increased by a measly 0.01%.

And that's while following the main protagonist's group. If I were on my own, I probably wouldn't even have that 0.01%.

Opening his eyes to look at the data before him, Morgan felt somewhat helpless.

Over the past month, because of his outstanding archery skills, he had practically taken over the hunting for the party.

This was partly to hone his archery, but mostly to kill prey and gain Soul Power.

It was a pity that, apart from the one point of Soul Power he gained from killing the dire bear on the day he met Gandalf a month ago, Morgan hadn't been able to gain another point since.

Even though he had hunted a large number of wild boars, wild goats, dappled deer, and even a fierce leopard.

But it was useless; he couldn't see a trace of a second point of Soul Power anywhere.

If not for the 0.01% progress in world exploration, he would have thought this broken Time System had glitched.

Of course, although his gains regarding the Time System had been minimal over the past month, Morgan's progress in terms of strength, especially in archery, could be called rapid.

In other areas, due to his own strength and the fact that he was teaching the dwarf Kili, Morgan's status within the expedition party had risen significantly.

If one were to rank the status of the expedition party members now, it would likely be: Thorin Oakenshield ≥ Gandalf > Balin = Morgan = Dwalin > other dwarves > Bilbo.

All in all, apart from the meager gains from the system, things were going well.

There were plenty of other gains.

Since he had nothing to do all day, he spent his time pondering the system within him.

Morgan now had some new insights into "Soul Power."

However, these insights would have to wait until he could test them.

It seems killing ordinary creatures no longer grants Soul Power. Now, let's see if the Orc can give me a pleasant surprise.

Morgan waved his hand to dismiss the data before him, looking up at the dim sky as he thought to himself.

"Morgan."

Just then, a shout came from not far away.

Morgan turned his head; it turned out dinner was ready.

Morgan vaulted off the three-meter-high boulder and headed toward the camp.

Arriving by the fire, he took a full bowl of fresh venison soup handed to him by his dwarf "student," Kili.

No sooner had Morgan sat down than he heard the dwarf Gloin, holding a steaming bowl of broth, shout loudly, "Come, come! To thank Morgan and Kili for bringing us such a feast, let's have a toast!"

"Hey, this isn't ale. You haven't had too much to drink, have you?"

"Haha, poor Gloin."

"Even if it isn't ale, you can pretend it is. Who knows, you might even taste the ale in it."

"Come on, let's toast."

"That's a great idea. Maybe you two will even get drunk."

"Hahahaha."

The dwarves laughed and joked, habitually bickering with one another.

It amused everyone.

It had been over a month of traveling in the wild.

Because they were in the middle of nowhere, with no villages or towns along the way.

The ale the dwarves had brought at the start had long since been consumed.

Now, there was only a fair amount of dried vegetables, potato flour, and jerky—provisions that were easy to carry and store—left.

As for ale, one could only dream.

After dinner, the night turned completely dark.

The cool breeze of early autumn blew.

Morgan and Gandalf sat side by side, leaning against a boulder, smoking.

To be precise, Morgan was smoking, using Gandalf's pipe.

"Hoo."

He lit the small bowl packed with tobacco and took a deep drag.

Smack.

Feeling the acrid smoke enter his lungs, Morgan felt inexplicably relaxed.

In his past life as a boxer, Morgan didn't smoke, and he rarely drank.

But in this world, during the boring and tedious journey of adventure.

In days without women, without ale, and without combat, only smoking kept him from being so bored.

"Not bad, right? Tobacco is a good thing."

"I never would have guessed you didn't smoke before, kid."

Ignoring Gandalf's muttering, Morgan looked at Bilbo, who was walking over, and gestured with the pipe. "Want a puff?"

"No, thank you. I have my own."

Bilbo declined with a smile, shook his own pipe, and sat down beside Gandalf.

"I wasn't wrong, was I?"

Gandalf continued, but Morgan took one final, forceful drag to finish the remaining tobacco, tapped out the ash, and handed the pipe back to Gandalf, saying with disdain, "Alright, you can shut up now."

"Haha."

Gandalf laughed, immediately taking the pipe to refill it with tobacco.

The night grew deeper.

The crescent moon in the sky had slipped behind the clouds at some point.

In the temporary camp, only the campfire remained burning.

Before the fire, apart from the night-watchman Bofur, who was nodding off, the other dwarves were sprawled out, already fast asleep.

Everything was silent, as if the whole world had fallen into slumber.

Morgan, who had been sleeping against the boulder while clutching his cruciform longsword, suddenly felt a sensation of extreme, dangerous palpitations.

He snapped his eyes open and saw a group of over a dozen armored, hideous-looking Orcs creeping into the temporary camp, weapons in hand.

Morgan's expression turned to one of shock; he grabbed the longbow beside him and roared, "Enemy attack!"