Morgan and Gandalf made a formidable team.
With Gandalf covering him, Morgan, who had mastered Archery LV2, was undoubtedly the coldest and most ruthless killer on the battlefield.
Every arrow he loosed sent an Orc straight to hell.
With the Dwarves' attacks added to the mix, more than half of the Orc scout party—over twenty strong, accompanied by more than twenty ferocious Gundabad Wargs—were dead in less than half an hour.
The remaining Orcs didn't dare press the attack. They turned and fled toward the dark outskirts of the camp.
If they'd only been facing Dwarves armed with short swords, axes, and hammers, the Orcs might have had a chance of getting away.
But with a skilled archer among them, escape wouldn't be so easy.
The remaining four or five Orcs rushed out of the camp and vanished into the dark night.
Morgan sprang onto a boulder and shouted, "Gandalf!"
Gandalf understood at once and raised his staff high.
The next second, a brilliant white light burst from the staff, illuminating the night sky.
Morgan swiftly reached for his quiver. This time, he drew three long arrows.
He had never done that before!
The light from the staff flashed and vanished.
But for Morgan, a single glimpse of the fleeing Orcs was all he needed.
He nocked three arrows and drew his bowstring back to its full extent.
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
The three arrows shot into the darkness.
Soon, everyone on the battlefield heard a series of screams from beyond the camp.
"Two got away."
Morgan jumped down from the boulder. His voice carried a clear note of regret.
Each Orc he killed might yield Soul Power, so of course he regretted letting any escape.
Naturally, no one else could understand what Morgan really meant.
"Morgan, don't worry about it. You did great today."
Sure enough, thinking Morgan was blaming himself, one of the Dwarves quickly spoke up.
"That's right. Morgan saved my life just now."
Gloin spoke up in his usual gruff voice.
He'd let his guard down for a moment and nearly been cut down by a charging Orc. Fortunately, Morgan had shot it dead in time.
It was embarrassing to need rescuing in a small skirmish like that, but Morgan had saved him. That was a fact.
Gloin was proud, but he would never stoop to lying about something like this.
Seeing Morgan blame himself, he immediately spoke up in his defense.
"I've heard that only the finest elven archers can shoot three arrows with a single draw."
"Morgan's Archery is quite impressive now..."
The white-bearded Dwarf Balin chimed in with a smile, but before he could finish—
"Awwooo!"
A low, terrifying howl suddenly came from the wilderness.
Everyone's expression changed. Gandalf immediately said, "The Orcs are calling for reinforcements. We have to go!"
Thorin Oakenshield's expression darkened. He and the Orcs were bitter enemies, and he knew what the howl meant. Especially after the battle they'd just fought. "Move! Quickly!"
"Kili, Fili, get the horses!"
"Bombur, pack up the dishes. Everyone else, gather your things!"
"Quickly!"
Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield spoke at the same time. The group immediately understood how serious the situation was.
They hurried to pack up.
Before long, they were galloping through the dark wilderness with their horses.
Traveling across the wilderness at night was obviously dangerous.
Fortunately, the Expedition Team was large.
"Quick, 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. At some point, the crescent moon emerged from behind the clouds again.
Dim moonlight spilled across the land.
Amid a range of rolling hills,
a group of people raced along.
"How long have we been running?"
"Dunno."
"Are the Orcs still following us?"
"Dunno."
"They probably lost us. I don't hear anything anymore."
"Keep running. Don't stop. Those Gundabad Wargs have a powerful sense of smell."
"This way! Hurry up!"
The group of people fleeing in disarray with their horses was, of course, the Lonely Mountain Expedition Team that Morgan belonged to.
They'd only just escaped an Orc scout ambush. They didn't dare stop now.
Time passed slowly.
When the eastern sky began to brighten with the first hint of dawn,
the members of the Expedition Team, who'd been running almost all night, were finally reaching their limit.
"Huff, huff."
"It's nearly dawn. The Orcs probably can't catch up now, right?"
"Can we rest? I can't run anymore."
"I'm starving."
"Me too."
Thorin Oakenshield looked at the panting, chattering Dwarves, then glanced at Gandalf.
"Orcs don't like daylight."
Knowing what Thorin Oakenshield wanted to ask, Gandalf answered casually.
"Then we'll rest."
Thorin Oakenshield nodded and walked off to one side.
The Dwarves were relieved to have the Dwarf prince's permission.
They were about to lie down and rest where they stood.
But Thorin Oakenshield shook his head and said, "Not here. It's too exposed. It isn't safe enough."
Gandalf paused while taking out his pipe. He looked around, then pointed toward a stretch of woods in the distance. "Let's go over there. The trees will give us cover."
Thorin Oakenshield looked that way and quickly nodded. "We'll go there."
Half an hour later,
the Expedition Team reached a wooded area halfway up a mountainside.
Thorin Oakenshield soon spotted a long-abandoned wooden cabin and a patch of relatively level ground nearby.
"We'll stay here."
"Kili, Fili, feed the horses."
"Bombur, Bofur, start a fire."
Thorin Oakenshield gave a string of orders, and the team divided up the work.
Before long, everyone was busy again.
Soon, a roaring bonfire blazed.
Of the four spotted deer Morgan and Kili had caught yesterday evening, three were left.
After a battle and a half-night's run, the white-bearded Dwarf Balin, who managed the food supplies, decided to treat everyone.
With a wave of his hand, the three deer, already butchered the day before, were placed one after another on the roasting spits.
After they finished their work, everyone gathered around the fire. Some bandaged their wounds while others chatted.
As the MVP of the battle, Morgan naturally became the focus of everyone's conversation.
But Morgan wasn't in the mood to talk.
He waved them off, leaned against a boulder not far from the fire, and closed his eyes to rest.
The moment he shut his eyes, Morgan focused his thoughts.
Swish, swish, swish.
Rows of virtual data immediately flickered into view.
[Time Traveler: Morgan] [Race: Human] [Biological Level: First Tier] [Soul Power: 6] [Attributes: Strength +; Constitution +; Agility +; Spirit +] [Abilities: Common Tongue; Muay Thai LV2; White Crow Swordsmanship LV1; Archery LV2] [Talent: Intimacy (Special Skill)] [Current World Exploration Progress: 0.35%] [.]
One line after another appeared.
Morgan's eyes were fixed on the Soul Power field.
When he saw the number, he couldn't help drawing a deep breath.
He had a full six points of Soul Power!
This was a huge haul. A truly huge haul.
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