Standing Out from the Crowd

"Enemy attack!"

Morgan roared. There was no time to wonder why things were unfolding differently from what he remembered.

He grabbed the longbow and quiver beside him and slung them over his shoulder. Then, with practiced ease, he drew two arrows, nocked them, and let fly.

The whole motion flowed seamlessly, completed in one breath.

Morgan's shout instantly alerted the Orcs. They stopped sneaking forward and charged with low growls.

The dozen or so Dwarves chosen for the expedition to reclaim their homeland were either veterans who had fought in several major battles or promising young warriors. Every one of them was an elite fighter.

The moment Morgan's shout woke them, they reacted without panic, grabbed the weapons at hand, and charged straight at the Orcs.

"Whoosh, whoosh."

Two arrows shot toward the Orcs leading the charge.

At this range, there was no chance Morgan would miss.

The next second, the two Orcs at the front grunted and their legs buckled. Their momentum carried them forward, and they crashed face-first to the ground.

Gloin, who had hurried to his feet and raised his hand axe, looked up to see two Orcs sprawled motionless right in front of him. He froze.

Looking closer, he saw that both arrows had struck the Orcs squarely in the face and pierced their skulls. They were well and truly dead.

Two arrows from one bowstring—that was the sort of feat only Morgan could pull off.

Gloin instinctively glanced over at Morgan.

And saw Morgan aiming his longbow at him.

"Whoosh!"

An arrow shot past Gloin's eyes.

He jumped in fright, then heard a muffled grunt behind him.

Turning around, he saw a hideous Orc standing there with a sharp blade in its hand, its grotesque head pierced by an arrow. It slowly toppled backward.

"Damn it."

Gloin broke out in a cold sweat. Muttering under his breath, he turned, raised his hand axe, and roared as he charged the Orcs.

A dozen or twenty Orcs had crept into the Dwarves' temporary camp.

As the first to spot them, Morgan had ruined their plans with a single shout, then killed three Orcs with two arrows in quick succession.

His impressive performance immediately caught the Orcs' attention.

The Orc captain, a tall, hideously ugly creature clad in black armor covered with spikes, pointed at Morgan and bellowed furiously, "Kill him! Kill that human!"

At the Orc captain's command, a dozen Wargs appeared around the camp.

The attackers were an Orc scouting party.

The ferocious Gundabad Wargs, whose bodies were far larger than those of ordinary wolves, were the Orc scouts' mounts.

They had left the Wargs outside the camp because their growls might wake the Dwarves and ruin the ambush.

Now that there was no chance of catching the Dwarves by surprise, the ferocious Wargs charged in at once.

At the Orc captain's command, the snarling Wargs made straight for Morgan.

"Shit!"

As he watched the Wargs charge toward him, Morgan's eyelids twitched. He put away his longbow and yanked out the sword at his waist.

He had barely drawn it when a huge shadow came hurtling through the air, trailing a foul stench.

There was no time to create distance. Morgan dropped to his knees and leaned back to dodge.

As the Warg's stinking head sailed overhead, its coarse belly fur nearly brushing his face, Morgan gripped his sword with both hands and stabbed upward without looking.

"Schluk."

The sword pierced the Warg's relatively soft belly. Carried by its tremendous momentum as it flew over Morgan, the beast's body dragged across the blade, leaving a long gash in its gut—as if Morgan had performed a C-section.

"Splurt, splurt, splurt, splurt."

The moment the Warg passed over his head, its foul innards spilled from its belly in a rush.

Startled, Morgan twisted desperately aside, but some of it still splattered across his back. A blood-soaked, reeking strand of intestine even caught on his quiver.

"Son of a—"

Morgan tore off the intestine and was just about to let loose a string of curses when another huge shadow leaped down from a boulder nearby.

Morgan spun to his feet and swung his sword.

"Clang!"

The sword collided with the Warg's claws, ringing like metal striking metal.

The Warg landed unharmed, then immediately turned and snarled at Morgan.

The Warg's tremendous force drove Morgan back several steps before he managed to steady himself.

At that moment, another Warg charged out of the darkness nearby.

The one facing Morgan stopped hesitating and lunged at him with a low growl.

"Not good."

Two Wargs were coming at him from different directions.

Morgan's eyelids twitched wildly. The danger was mounting by the second.

With their size and those sharp, icy fangs, he had no doubt the Wargs could easily bite through his neck in a single snap.

But there was nothing he could do to change the situation. In the blink of an eye, both Wargs were upon him.

"Then let's do this!"

Realizing he had no chance of dodging, Morgan gritted his teeth and charged the Warg leaping at him from the front.

He would risk being attacked by the other one if it meant killing one first and avoiding being cornered by both.

Morgan stepped forward, gripped his sword with both hands, and swung with all his might!

"Awooo!"

Morgan's blow cleaved off half the charging Warg's head. It let out a mournful cry, crashed to the ground, and convulsed violently.

Morgan had no time to feel pleased. He hadn't forgotten the other Warg. He spun around, only to feel a powerful gust explode behind him.

"Boom!"

Gandalf raised his glowing staff high. A pale wave of light, almost visible to the naked eye, burst through the air.

When the blast faded, the ferocious Warg that had been leaping at Morgan was hurled backward. It smashed into the boulder behind it and lay still.

"You saved my life, Gandalf!"

Sword in hand, Morgan hurried to Gandalf's side and stood shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Don't mention it. You've certainly put on quite a show today."

Gandalf held a sword in one hand and his staff in the other. He ran his blade through an Orc charging at him, kicked the corpse to the ground, and spoke casually.

"Oh? How do I compare to you?"

With Gandalf guarding his side, Morgan lowered his sword, took his longbow off his back again, and loosed an arrow. It struck a charging Warg in the eye.

"Of course you're just a little bit worse than me. Just a little bit."

As he spoke, Gandalf thrust out his staff.

"Boom!"

White light burst from the tip of the staff. An Orc that had crept up was blasted several yards away.

"What do you think?"

Gandalf turned to Morgan with a slightly smug smile.

Morgan raised his hand and shot an arrow at Gandalf.

"Whoosh!"

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

Gandalf whipped around and saw an Orc that had nearly reached him falling backward, an arrow lodged in its forehead.

Then he heard Morgan's voice: "I don't think much of it. What do you think?"