A Lone Bloom [Seeking Recommendation Tickets]

"Enemy attack!"

Morgan roared, having no time to wonder why things were playing out differently than in his memories.

He grabbed his longbow and quiver, slung them over his shoulder in one swift motion, then drew two arrows with practiced ease and loosed them.

The entire sequence was fluid, executed in a single breath.

Startled by Morgan's shout, the Orcs reacted instantly; abandoning their stealthy approach, they let out low growls and charged.

The dozen or so Dwarves selected for the quest to reclaim their homeland were either veterans of many wars or exceptionally talented youths—they were, without a doubt, the elite.

Awakened by Morgan's cry, they reacted immediately, showing no signs of panic as they grabbed their weapons and met the Orcs head-on.

"Swish, swish."

Two arrows whistled through the air, streaking toward the Orcs leading the charge.

At such close range, there was no possibility of Morgan missing.

The next second.

The two Orcs in the lead let out muffled grunts, their legs buckling as their momentum sent them sprawling face-first into the dirt.

Gloin, who had scrambled up and drawn his short axe to join the fray, looked up to see two Orcs collapse and lie motionless before him, and he froze.

Looking down, he saw the arrows embedded deep in their faces, having pierced through their skulls—they were dead beyond any doubt.

One bow, two arrows; a masterpiece only Morgan could pull off.

Gloin instinctively turned to look at Morgan.

Then he saw Morgan holding his longbow, aiming directly at him.

"Swish."

An arrow streaked past his face.

Gloin jumped in fright, only to hear a muffled grunt from behind him.

He turned to see an ugly Orc, wielding a sharp blade, slowly falling backward with an arrow through its hideous, snarling head.

"Damn it."

Gloin broke into a cold sweat, muttered a curse, and turned to charge into the fray, axe raised high.

A dozen or so Orcs had snuck into the Dwarves' temporary camp.

As the first to spot them, Morgan had ruined their plan with a single shout and then dispatched three Orcs with two arrows in the blink of an eye.

Morgan's stellar performance immediately drew the attention of the Orcs.

The Orc leader, a tall, hideous creature clad in sharp black armor, pointed at Morgan and roared in fury, "Kill him! Kill that human!"

As the Orc leader's command rang out.

Around the camp, a dozen Wargs appeared, their shoulders high and their bodies covered in coarse, needle-like grey-black fur.

The raiding party was a scout unit.

These fierce Gundabad Wargs, far larger than ordinary wolves, were the mounts of the Orc scouts.

They had been left outside the camp earlier, as the Orcs feared the Wargs' low growls would wake the Dwarves and ruin the ambush.

Now that the element of surprise was gone, the ferocious beasts charged in.

At the leader's command, the snarling Wargs lunged straight for Morgan.

"Shit!"

Seeing the pack of Wargs charging toward him, Morgan's eyelids twitched; he immediately stowed his longbow and drew the longsword at his waist.

No sooner had he drawn his blade than a massive shadow leaped through the air, reeking of carrion.

With no room to retreat, Morgan dropped to his knees and arched his back to dodge.

He felt the Warg's foul-smelling belly pass inches above his head, the coarse fur nearly scraping his face.

Morgan thrust his sword upward with both hands, not even looking.

"Squelch."

The longsword instantly pierced the Warg's softer underbelly, and with the beast's own momentum carrying it over Morgan, the sharp blade sliced a long gash across its gut, effectively performing a gruesome cesarean section.

"Splatter."

As the Warg soared over him, a mass of foul, bloody entrails spilled out in a frantic rush.

Startled, Morgan scrambled to the side, though some of the gore still splattered onto his back, and a string of bloody, reeking intestines snagged on his quiver.

"What the—"

Morgan ripped the entrails off, ready to unleash a string of profanities.

Just then, another massive black shadow leaped down from a nearby boulder.

Morgan rolled to his feet and swung his sword.

"Bang!"

The longsword collided with the Warg's sharp claws, emitting the sound of clashing metal.

The Warg landed unscathed, immediately turning its head to bare its teeth and growl at Morgan.

Morgan was forced back several steps by the Warg's immense strength before he could steady himself.

At that very moment, another Warg lunged out from the darkness not far from Morgan.

Seeing this, the Warg standing before him hesitated no longer, growling as it pounced.

"Not good."

Two Wargs were leaping at him simultaneously from different directions.

Morgan felt his eyelids twitch violently; the danger had escalated sharply.

He had no doubt that given the size of these Wargs and the chilling, razor-sharp fangs in their maws, a single bite would easily snap his neck.

Yet, no matter how worried he was, it was useless; the two Wargs were upon him in an instant.

"Do or die!"

Realizing he couldn't dodge, Morgan gritted his teeth and steeled himself, taking the initiative to charge at the Warg that had pounced first.

He would rather risk an attack from the other Warg than fail to kill one first and fall into a dangerous pincer attack.

Morgan stepped forward, gripping his longsword with both hands and swinging with all his might!

"Awoo."

The ferocious Warg leaping at him had half its head cleaved off by Morgan's strike, letting out a mournful howl before falling to the ground and convulsing violently.

Without a shred of joy, Morgan hadn't forgotten the other Warg; he turned around immediately, only to feel a powerful gust of air erupt from behind him.

"Boom."

Gandalf held his glowing staff high, and a pale white shockwave, almost visible to the naked eye, exploded in mid-air.

After the blast.

The ferocious Warg that had been pouncing on Morgan was instantly thrown backward, slamming heavily into a boulder behind it and lying motionless.

"You saved my life, Gandalf!"

Morgan held his longsword, immediately joining Gandalf to stand side-by-side.

"You're welcome, though your performance today was exceptionally brilliant."

Gandalf, holding his longsword in one hand and his staff in the other, skewered an Orc charging at him, kicked its corpse to the ground, and spoke casually.

"Oh, and how does that compare to you?"

Seeing Gandalf guarding his side, Morgan dropped his longsword, pulled his longbow from his back once more, and fired an arrow, striking a charging Warg squarely in the eye.

"Well, it's certainly a little bit behind, just a tiny bit."

As the words fell, Gandalf thrust his staff forward.

"Boom."

A white light erupted from the tip of the staff, and an Orc that had been sneaking up was blasted several meters away on the spot.

"What do you think?"

Gandalf turned his head, looking at Morgan with a slightly smug smile.

Morgan simply raised his hand and fired an arrow toward Gandalf.

"Whoosh."

The arrow streaked past Gandalf's ear, even shearing off a few strands of his long hair.

Gandalf whipped his head around to see an Orc that had nearly reached him falling backward, an arrow embedded in the center of its brow.

Immediately, he heard Morgan's voice: "I don't think much of it, what do you think?"