The First Title

"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"

Three arrows whistled through the air.

They were so close.

In almost no time at all,

the three arrows reached the Troll.

"Roar!"

The Troll let out a hoarse, shrill scream that immediately shook the entire forest.

"Morgan hit it!"

Seeing the Troll clutch its face and scream, the Dwarves were relieved. Without needing to be told, they immediately retreated.

Just as the Dwarves had feared,

the Troll, overcome by pain, immediately went berserk, flailing its massive hands all around.

The Dwarves were scrambling to get away.

But Bombur, the fattest of them, tripped while retreating. As he got back up and tried to run, the frenzied Troll struck him with a slap.

It was like being hit by a speeding truck. Bombur's body went flying dozens of meters, slammed into the trunk of a tree, and finally fell to the ground.

"Bombur!"

"Bombur!"

The Dwarves cried out in alarm. They had just managed to put some distance between themselves and the Troll, and were about to race toward Bombur.

Just then, the frenzied Troll accidentally felt the thick tree-trunk weapon it had dropped earlier.

And then its rampage grew even more terrifying.

Five meters tall and incredibly hulking, the Troll gripped the thick tree trunk and smashed it wildly in every direction.

In an instant, plants went flying, dust swirled, mud splattered, and the earth shook.

Even the great trees, their trunks as thick as an adult's body, were easily knocked down and snapped by the enraged Troll.

Morgan and Gandalf, who was farther out, hurriedly retreated.

The Dwarves closer to the Troll fled for their lives.

If they were hit by that club, they wouldn't just suffer the same fate as Bombur.

They'd be smashed to pieces, turned into a puddle of Dwarf-shaped meat paste.

"Pant, pant."

Once the Dwarves had fled a safe distance, they stared at the frenzied Troll and gasped for breath.

Only then did they see where Morgan had hit it.

The frenzied Troll now had three arrows embedded in its face.

One arrow had struck above the Troll's eye socket.

The other two had pierced the eye socket that was now dripping with blood.

One arrow had only gone halfway in, leaving half its shaft and bloodied fletching exposed.

The other arrow had disappeared entirely into the socket, with only its fletching visible, soaked through with black blood.

"Phew."

Only then did everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.

The first two Trolls had already met their end. No matter how large this one was, it couldn't possibly survive being shot like that.

Its rampage now was just a death throe.

As they relaxed in relief, they couldn't help looking toward Morgan.

Morgan's archery was simply too good, too incredible.

All three giant Trolls had been hit in their only vulnerable spot, and all three had died at Morgan's hands.

A record like that was worthy of a legendary hero from a bard's tale.

If word of Morgan's feat—killing three giant Trolls in a single day—spread throughout Middle-earth,

he would surely become the most popular figure in every tavern across the land.

But Morgan would have to wait a long time to enjoy that kind of treatment.

In a world of swords and spears, stories didn't travel quickly.

Besides, everyone who knew what had happened was still on an adventure that felt more like a desperate flight.

Still, Morgan didn't need to worry. His feat of killing three giant Trolls in a row would definitely spread.

That was because most of the witnesses were Dwarves.

Dwarves loved drinking and bragging. They'd surely bring up Morgan's exploits after a couple of drinks, without anyone even having to ask.

And they'd definitely say, "Look, I was Morgan's companion back then. I helped him kill those three Trolls, too."

Killing three giant Trolls in a row.

Calling Morgan the Troll Ender or the Troll Butcher wouldn't be an exaggeration.

Just like Thorin, who had picked up a piece of oak and used it as a shield to turn the tide while fighting the Orcs, earning himself the name "Oakenshield."

At that moment, if anyone called Morgan "the Troll Ender," "the Troll Butcher," or "the Troll's Bane,"

the members of the Company would consider it entirely reasonable.

Morgan deserved it. He had earned the right.

Morgan naturally had no idea what his companions were thinking.

Nor did he know that, in the hearts of the Company, he had already acquired his very first "title."

In all of Middle-earth,

there were very few who had made a name for themselves and earned a title. Every one of them was a powerful figure.

Consider someone relatively close to Morgan.

"Thorin Oakenshield."

And what kind of person was Thorin Oakenshield? He was the leader of the most powerful, most esteemed, and most legitimate of the seven Dwarf clans of Middle-earth: Durin's Folk.

He had lived through the battle in which the dragon Smaug attacked the Kingdom Under the Mountain and destroyed it.

He had fought in several battles between the Dwarves and Orcs. Most notably, in the great Battle of Azanulbizar, with his grandfather, Thror, King Under the Mountain, dead, Thorin Oakenshield had turned the tide, defeated the Orc chieftain, and reversed what had been a rout.

That had won him the respect and affection of all Durin's Folk.

Thorin Oakenshield's strength, ability, and achievements had been recognized throughout Middle-earth.

He was the undisputed leader of the Dwarves.

Among all the Dwarves of Middle-earth, the only one Morgan knew of who had earned a title through his own deeds, rather than inheriting one through status, seemed to be Thorin Oakenshield.

Then there was another—the Dwarves' archenemy.

Azog, the Orc of Gundabad, was known as "The Defiler" and "The Desecrator."

Azog's strength, status, and title had all been earned through a series of terrifying wars and massacres. He had unquestionably earned them.

His fearsome power could be summed up in a single title: Orc chieftain.

Others who bore titles, like Sauron, the Dark Lord, and the Elf Queen, were all true great figures—powerful forces in their own right.

Of course, titles varied in stature.

Achievements, accomplishments, and the like could differ greatly in scale.

All in all, for Morgan to have earned his first title after just over two months in Middle-earth

was already an incredible achievement.

Even though Morgan himself knew nothing about it.

Back to the story.

As the members of the Company watched from a distance,

the frenzied Troll lasted only a little longer than the first two had after being shot in the eye.

"Thud!"

The Troll's massive body crashed to the ground.

The three Troll brothers, who in Morgan's memories of the story should have died beneath the sunlight,

had now all died at Morgan's hands.

Thanks to the reader "Dark Judgment Knight" for the reward. Many thanks~~