A Bountiful Harvest [Seeking Recommendation Tickets]

Morgan and Gandalf made for a formidable duo.

Under Gandalf's cover, Morgan, having mastered Level 2 Archery, was undoubtedly the coldest and most ferocious killer in this battle.

Every arrow he loosed sent an Orc straight to hell.

With the added damage from the dwarves, this scout party of over twenty Orcs, along with their twenty-odd ferocious Gundabad Warg, had more than half their number wiped out in less than half an hour.

Seeing this, the remaining few Orcs dared not press the attack and scrambled to flee toward the dark wilderness outside the camp.

If it were only dwarves armed with short swords, battle-axes, and hammers, they might truly have been unable to stop these Orcs as they fled in a frenzy.

But with a high-level archer present, it was not so easy for these Orcs to escape.

Watching the last four or five Orcs rush out of the camp and vanish into the pitch-black night, Morgan leaped onto a boulder and shouted, "Gandalf!"

Gandalf understood immediately and raised his staff high.

The next second, the staff erupted with a blindingly intense white light, illuminating the night sky.

Morgan reached quickly for his quiver, pulling out three long arrows this time.

Three arrows, like never before!

The light from the staff flashed and vanished.

But for Morgan, a single instant to see the fleeing Orcs was enough.

Nocking the three arrows to his bowstring, Morgan drew his bow into a full moon.

Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

The three arrows vanished into the dark night.

Soon, everyone on the battlefield heard a series of screams echoing from beyond the camp.

"Two got away."

Morgan jumped down from the boulder, his tone clearly tinged with regret.

Every Orc killed had the potential to carry soul power, so it was naturally a pity to let any escape.

Of course, the others could not possibly understand Morgan's true meaning.

"Morgan, it's nothing; you were already incredible today."

Sure enough, assuming Morgan was blaming himself, a dwarf spoke up immediately.

"Indeed, Morgan just saved me once."

Gloin the dwarf also spoke in a muffled voice.

He had been momentarily distracted and nearly hacked down by a charging Orc, but fortunately, Morgan had shot the beast dead just in time.

Although it was somewhat embarrassing to be saved in such a small skirmish, it was a fact that Morgan had saved him.

Gloin had a strong sense of pride, but he would never stoop to lying about such a matter.

Seeing Morgan blaming himself, he immediately spoke up to defend him.

"To draw a bow and loose three arrows at once—I've only ever heard of the master archers among the Elves being able to do that."

"Morgan's archery is currently..."

Balin, the white-bearded dwarf, also said with a smile, but before he could finish his sentence—

Awoooo.

Suddenly, a low, terrifying howl erupted from the wilderness.

The expressions of everyone present shifted. Gandalf spoke immediately, "The Orcs are calling for reinforcements; we must leave!"

Thorin Oakenshield's face darkened instantly. He and the Orcs were blood enemies, and he knew exactly what that sound meant, especially after the battle that had just taken place. "Go, move quickly!"

"Kili, Fili, go get the horses!"

"Bombur, pack the utensils; everyone else, gather your things!"

"Move!"

Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield spoke in unison, and the party immediately realized the gravity of the situation.

They began packing up with haste.

Soon, the group was galloping on horseback through the pitch-black wilderness.

Traveling through the wild at night was clearly a dangerous affair.

Fortunately, the expedition party was large in number.

"Faster, keep up!"

"Damn it, come back, you're going the wrong way!"

"This way!"

"It's too dark, I can't see!"

Time passed slowly, and at some unknown moment, the crescent moon emerged from the clouds once again.

Hazy moonlight spilled over the earth.

Among a range of rolling mountains.

A group of people was running wildly.

"How long have we been running?"

"Don't know."

"Are the Orcs still following?"

"Don't know."

"They shouldn't be; I don't seem to hear any movement anymore."

"Keep running, we can't stop. The noses of those Gundabad Warg are very sharp."

"This way, hurry up and keep up."

This group, fleeing in a sorry state while leading their horses, was naturally the Lonely Mountain expedition team that Morgan was part of.

Having just escaped an ambush by Orc scouts a short while ago, they dared not stop at all.

Time passed slowly.

When the eastern sky began to glow with a hint of white light.

The members of the expedition team, who had been running wildly for most of the night in one breath, finally couldn't hold on any longer.

"Huff, huff."

"It's almost dawn, the Orcs shouldn't be able to catch up now, right?"

"Can we rest? I really can't run anymore."

"I'm so hungry."

"Me too."

Looking at the panting, chattering dwarves.

Thorin Oakenshield looked up at Gandalf.

"Orcs do not like the daylight."

Knowing what Thorin Oakenshield wanted to ask, Gandalf said casually.

"Then let's rest."

Thorin Oakenshield nodded and walked off to the side on his own.

The group of dwarves, having received the dwarf prince's consent, immediately breathed a huge sigh of relief.

They were just about to lie down and rest on the spot.

But they heard Thorin Oakenshield shake his head and speak again: "Not here. It is too open here; it is not safe enough."

Gandalf, who had just pulled out his pipe, paused, looked around, and pointed to a forest in the distance, saying: "Let's go there. It will be much better with the cover of the woods."

Thorin Oakenshield looked over and soon nodded: "We go there."

Half an hour later.

The expedition team arrived at a woodland halfway up the mountainside.

Thorin Oakenshield soon saw a long-abandoned wooden cabin and the surrounding area, which looked relatively flat.

"This will do."

"Kili, Fili, go feed the horses."

"Bombur, Bofur, start a fire."

Thorin Oakenshield gave his orders, and the team's tasks were clearly divided.

Soon, the group was busy again.

Before long, a vigorous bonfire was burning brightly.

Because there were still three of the four spotted deer that Morgan and Kili had caught yesterday evening remaining.

Having just gone through a battle and then run wildly for half the night.

Balin, the white-bearded dwarf in charge of food logistics, decided to reward everyone.

With a wave of his hand, the three spotted deer, which had been dressed the day before, were hung on the grill one by one.

After a flurry of activity, everyone began to sit around the fire, some bandaging wounds, others chatting.

As the MVP of this battle, Morgan was naturally the focus of everyone's conversation.

However, Morgan had no desire to chat at this moment.

He waved his hand and went straight to lean against a giant rock not far from the fire, closing his eyes to rest.

As soon as he closed his eyes, a thought stirred in Morgan's mind.

Swish, swish, swish.

Lines of virtual data immediately jumped and flickered before his eyes.

[Time Traveler: Morgan]

[Race: Human]

[Biological Rank: Tier 1]

[Soul Power: 6]

[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: 0.35%]

[.]

Lines of data continued to appear.

Morgan's gaze remained fixed on the Soul Power column.

Upon seeing the number following the Soul Power, he couldn't help but draw a sharp breath.

To think there were a full six points of Soul Power!

This was a massive harvest, a truly massive harvest.