—Third-person tactical battle perspective——Gilan's side—
While intense combat unfolded throughout the campsite, a quieter, more calculated struggle was taking place on Gilan's side.
"Four left," he murmured.
Using traps he had prepared earlier, Gilan had already outsmarted and neutralized three enemies. For the first one, he cleverly manipulated a bush by tying it to a nearly invisible string hidden among the grass. The string stretched all the way from the bush to just near his hiding spot. With a subtle tug, the bush rustled—barely—but just enough to simulate a careless reveal of his position.
An assassin, taking the bait, cautiously approached and inspected the bush without revealing himself. Then, with swift precision, he launched three daggers at it.
Gilan calculated the direction the dagger came from and threw the beehive he put in a bag made of bear skin to that spot, the bag opened and the bees attacked the first living creature they saw, the man. The hive Gilan bought was a wild hive that did not produce honey, he had some experience with this before, you put the bag on a forked branch and tie the rope to the right place, since it was night anyway most of the bees were inactive, you put the hive in the bag and pull the rope and the bag's mouth automatically closes. Gilan kept this hive close to the traps just in case and placed it in an ideal hiding place. Before setting off, he put the bag in a puddle and opened it up and did a favor for the honeybees in nature, Gilan was happy to lend a helping hand to the honeybees because he loved honey so much.
He and Halt often set up such measures during their rests. As Halt always said: "Prepare for the worst, always."
Caught off guard, the assassin was quickly surrounded by the enraged swarm. In the panic, he stumbled out from behind a tree for just a second—long enough for Gilan to release two arrows simultaneously. One aimed for the head missed, but the second struck the chest. Lethal or not, it didn't matter—the arrows were poisoned.
Remember: almost everything in nature can be turned into a weapon.
After eliminating the man, Gilan changed his hiding spot and used some of the noise traps he had previously set to create distractions around the forest. He, Halt, and Igris always prepared simple traps during every rest, using materials from Igris's inventory and his previously-used spatial pouch.
Gilan's hunting zone was a carefully woven spiderweb—crafted by all three.
Without these traps, far more enemies would have attacked the camp. If even one or two more forest rangers had been present, they could've spotted the attackers earlier. But this ambush was calculated and well-executed; neither Halt nor Gilan had sensed a thing until it was too late.
He eliminated two more by misguiding them using these very traps. Now, only the leader and three of his men remained. The leader was torn—should he press on, or retreat?
As he pondered this, eyes scanning the area, he suddenly felt something. Reacting with a swift roll, he evaded—just as two arrows struck the ground where he had stood a moment earlier.
He immediately threw a dagger toward the direction of the arrows and ducked behind cover. A third arrow whizzed in from another angle, planting itself beside him. That was all he needed to make his decision.
"Retreat!" he barked—his voice low, harsh, and filled with frustration.
Using the dense trees for cover, he and his remaining men fled. Gilan fired a few more arrows after them, managing to hit one in the arm.
"Tch! I wanted to finish them all," he muttered, clearly disappointed.
"Now they'll know some things about me. Next time anyone connected to this group comes after us, they'll be prepared—and cautious. Worse, I've made things difficult for Halt too. Since our outfits and fighting styles are so similar, they might mistake him for me—unless they pay attention to our height."
While patrolling, both Gilan and Halt always wore their hoods and face masks. The reason? In an emergency, they needed to blend in fast. Gilan hadn't revealed his face once since the battle began.
Although a master swordsman, Gilan had no desire to engage in close combat with a team of poison-wielding assassins. Doing so without necessity was nothing short of foolish—one mistake, and the poison would take you down.
That's why Igris preferred to set up camp in forests or sheltered clearings with tall brush—so Gilan and Halt could fight with greater ease.
Remember, a skilled archer can turn the tide of battle. Archers like Gilan, Halt, or Legolas can dominate the field—as long as you give them the right position and make sure they never run out of arrows.
"Well... next time we'll be better prepared," he thought, then swiftly began running back toward the camp.
—The Campgrounds—
Clink! Clink!
"Huff-huff… How are you holding up, Fili? Can you still go on?" asked Dwalin, glancing at Fili who was slumped against his back.
"Hahh-hahh… No problem, old man, I'm just getting warmed up!" Fili responded wearily. Around them, lay the corpses of nearly thirty enemies.What felt like a few minutes of battle had lasted well over two hours, and the intensity was brutal. Both of them bore wounds.
Movies and novels tend to bend fate in favor of the main group and their heroes—but this was no storybook world. Not here. Not today.
Gandalf was doing his best, but fighting and trying to maintain a connection with nature at the same time was no simple task. The high-level magic you see flashing effortlessly in films doesn't come so easily in real life.And besides, the world's magical essence was fading. Unless a new World Tree emerged soon, there would be no wizards left within a few thousand years. Everyone knew that all the existing seeds had been destroyed during the wars.
"Balin! Bifur's condition is worsening—he's lost a lot of blood!" Dori shouted anxiously.
"Just hold on a little longer! We'll find a way out of this! Trust in Thorin and Igris!" Balin called back.
Balin wasn't a fool—he knew full well that Thorin and Igris were buying Gandalf time. That's why he made it seem like the group's hope rested on those two alone—to distract the enemy.
And Igris… he had become the center of attention with his thunderous, reckless display—but his condition wasn't looking good either.
"I believe in you, boys," Balin muttered and lunged at the enemy in front of him, his weapon gleaming.
Elsewhere, Halt, Kili, and Bilbo had run out of arrows and were now fighting with swords. Halt was still visibly anxious but focused.
"Don't stray from each other's side! If you leave your backs open, you'll die! I'm not losing a student today!" he barked.
In his heart, he whispered, Please be safe, Gilan… You and Jenny still have to meet and have kids…
He glanced at Bilbo, thinking, Not bad for his first battle. He reminds me a lot of Will, he murmured.
On Gloin's front—Gimli's father—things weren't looking much better.Gloin had a few cuts, but more than fourteen bodies lay around him.He was breathing heavily.
A little further away, Nori was out of breath, with a shallow wound on his chest and a cut above his left eye. There were about ten enemy corpses around him.
Behind them, Oin lay on the ground, face pale and gasping for air. An arrow was lodged in his arm, blood gushing out, black veins forming around the wound—it was poisoned.
Ori was sobbing beside him.
"Oin, please don't die! Don't die because of me!" he cried, pressing down on the bleeding wound.
"Hah-hah… don't worry… young man… cough-cough… hah… I've survived worse…" Oin said, struggling to breathe. After all, he was old—too old for this.
"Ori… water… please…" he croaked.
Ori immediately fumbled for his flask and, with trembling hands, held it to Oin's lips.
Oin drank, then slowly closed his eyes.
"OOOOOOOOOOOOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNN!" Ori's scream pierced the battlefield.
Gloin and Nori heard it.
They turned and saw Oin's lifeless face and his eyes closed forever. Their eyes turned blood red as their auras erupted.
With a battle cry, they hurled themselves into the enemy lines.They had entered the dwarves' most dangerous combat state—the berserker form.
Gloin, however, managed to restrain himself.Nori, on the other hand, had lost it—utterly consumed by rage.Seeing this, Gloin quickly subdued him and brought him back to his senses.When Nori looked at him, Gloin's furious, aging eyes burned into his.
"We're not losing another friend today, Nori," he said in a low, firm voice.Nori looked down and nodded solemnly.
"DAMN IT ALL!" Thorin roared, cleaving the man before him in two at the waist with pure fury.Over thirty corpses littered the ground around him.
He had heard Ori's scream—and it crushed his chest like a falling boulder.He was on the edge of losing control.How much longer, Gandalf?! he thought, gritting his teeth, and kept fighting.
He struck at the enemy in front of him, blocked another coming from the side with his shield, then channeled his aura to boost his strength and cut down his opponent.He turned quickly to block another blade behind him.With a twist of his arm, he deflected the enemy's sword downward, throwing them off balance—Thorin slashed his throat.He spun to his left, raised his shield, and intercepted an incoming spear.Then, rotating slightly, he parried another sword with his own.He pulled his arms in close, flexed his bulging muscles, and with a sudden burst of power, threw two attackers back.He then lunged at the one on his right, slicing him down.As the one on his left thrust his spear, Thorin bent away just in time—the tip grazed his face, leaving a shallow cut.Thorin grabbed the spear and pulled the man toward him.
His shield—not the bulky log he used to make it look cool and striking in the movies—blocked another blow.With a clean strike, he felled the spearman and, without pause, charged toward two warriors making their way toward Gandalf.
From afar, a leader-like figure who had been watching Thorin closely since the beginning suddenly realized something—and immediately shouted to his men.
"STOP THE WIZARD! DON'T LET HIM FINISH THE SPELL!"
Thorin cursed under his breath, "Damn it all," and then raised his voice, "Is a wizard more valuable to you than me? Thorin Oakenshield, with a bounty of 100,000 gold? The rightful king of the dwarves?" His words were sharp, low, but brimming with pride.
"Perhaps your leader is wearing us down to claim the bounty on my head, misleading you to his own ends," Thorin added with a cold smile.
"DAMN DWARF! DON'T BELIEVE HIM! THE WIZARD HAS A 95,000 GOLD BOUNTY!" someone else shouted. The men exchanged glances, and one turned to him, saying in a low, firm voice, "Why don't you go then?"
"WHAT!?" The man looked at the one questioning his orders and realized he wasn't part of his group.
"Yes, why don't you go? You and your team haven't fought at all!" said another, his eye cut and bleeding.
"He's right! Are you using us as cannon fodder?" another chimed in, his arm bleeding.
"Yeah, you should join the fight too, you bastard!" said another man, spitting on the ground.
Similar voices spread, and distrust grew among the groups. Thorin grinned; he had achieved the desired effect, at least partially, and managed to catch his breath.
"YOU FOOLS! IF THE WIZARD FINISHES THE SPELL, WE'RE DONE FOR!" the apparent leader shouted.
"STOP COMPLAINING! I KNOW THAT WIZARD—HE'S THE FIREWORK WIZARD! HOW CAN HE HARM US, WITH HIS LITTLE SHOWS?" said another, and those around him laughed.
Thorin raised his eyebrows, recalling something Igris had told him: "Thorin, never underestimate Gandalf as just a firework wizard. He's the Grey Wizard, second only to the White Wizard, and sometimes even stronger. His influence is vast, and he knows many. The firework displays are both a disguise and a way to communicate with the people. Enemies might underestimate him because of this."
"YOU FOOL! HOW CAN A SIMPLE SHOWMAN HAVE A 95,000 GOLD BOUNTY?" the same man shouted, nearly coughing up blood in his anger.
"YOU'RE THE FOOL! YOUR ENTIRE LINEAGE FOR SEVEN GENERATIONS IS FOOLISH!" another retorted angrily.
"Perhaps they had fallen out with nobles and merchants?" one man suggested skeptically. This was common in Middle-earth, but bounties rarely reached such heights.
Thorin couldn't react to the situation. Yes, he had started to buy time by sowing doubt, but he couldn't understand how these idiots had managed to attack the group so stealthily and in such an organized manner.
"Never mind, let's survive first, then think," he muttered, standing alert in front of Gandalf. The enemy group didn't want to make the first move, leading to a brief standoff. The leaders were still arguing. Thorin glanced at his group, "Don't you dare die, or by Durin, I'll resurrect you just to kill you again!" he muttered anxiously, then looked towards Igris. "You're probably the only one enjoying this situation, but you're also worried about the group, aren't you, Igris?"
BAM!
BOOM!
CLINK! CLINK!
The most intense and violent part of the battle was here. Igris was engaged in a fierce fight alongside group leaders and former enemies. Both sides had injuries, but none were severe. The groups attacking Igris had questions in their minds:
"Is this guy really human? Or a Nazgûl?" x3
"I should've asked for more money!" x1
But Igris had two conflicting thoughts:
"Is the group okay? Did something happen to Oin? I hope he's fine."
And the other:
"I haven't had this much fun in a long time! I don't miss my old life at all. If I were in that world, I'd either be in an office full of files, kissing up to bosses, or just trying to survive. But here, there's plenty of fighting and adventure!"
Igris quickly dodged to the side, avoiding Jumba's hammer, then used his shield from his inventory to block the knives thrown by Jim. He swiftly turned around to block Elise's swords with his own, locking eyes with her.
"Come on, beauty, don't be so mad. I just cut off your brother's head, tied it to a pole, and burned it. Why so angry?" Igris taunted.
"Kyaaaaaaa!" Elise screamed, swinging her swords in fury.
Igris blocked the swords coming from both sides, found an opening, and delivered a hard knee to her stomach. Elise spat bile. Igris grabbed her head from behind with his shielded arm, intending to slam her to the ground, but Jumba swung his hammer. Igris dodged immediately. Before he could regain balance, a machete-wielding man attacked from behind, but Igris ducked, spun 360 degrees, and kicked him from below, knocking him down. As he was about to kill the man, Jim intervened. Igris swung his sword, which Jim blocked with his daggers, but his arms trembled from the force, and he slid back, leaving trails on the ground. Igris quickly retreated, and milliseconds later, an arrow struck where he had been.
"Tch! The archer is starting to annoy me!" Igris had several arrows on his shield, and two had hit his back, but his armor and inner chainmail hadn't been fully penetrated. Additionally, Igris's poison resistance was very high due to his hybrid nature.
"BE CAREFUL, YOU STUPID WOMAN!"
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH! YOU DISGUSTING PIG! YOU CAN'T ORDER ME AROUND!"
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!? IF IT WASN'T FOR ME, YOU'D BE OFF TO SEE YOUR FUCKING SISTER!"
Elise swiftly swung her sword at him, and Jumba blocked it.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, YOU BITCH?!" he barked.
"SAY ONE MORE WORD ABOUT MY SISTER AND I'LL KILL YOU! FILTHY PIG!"
"Oh! Love on the battlefield!" Igris commented while fighting the other two.
"LOVE!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" ×2
"I'm warning you now—don't even think about it. More than half of you are going to die here. Don't come crying to me later, saying 'Oh, Igris, why didn't you tell us!'" Igris shouted loudly as he clashed with the machete-wielding man and Jim.
"DON'T BE SO ARROGANT, IGRIS / DARK KNIGHT!" ×2"SHUT UP AND FIGHT!" ×2
Igris was caught in an intense battle against the machete soldier and Jim—blocking, slashing right, then left, striking diagonally and from below, kicking and slamming with his shield. He couldn't afford to lose focus for a moment. Whenever he was about to land a killing blow, either the others interfered or the hidden archer disrupted him.
'These fools are way too organized... and this ambush doesn't feel like their doing. Sure, Elise and Jim are smart—one built a well-structured slave trade empire, the other is known for successful assassinations—but they don't fully trust each other. Their alliance is based solely on survival, devoid of any real sincerity,' Igris thought as he quickly tilted his head, narrowly dodging an arrow that scraped against his helmet, throwing sparks.
He spun to the right and met Elise's swords, raising his blade to block an incoming strike from Jim. But as Jumba charged in from behind and the machete man attacked from the other side, Igris cursed internally, 'Shit!'
Time felt frozen. Igris's brain kicked into overdrive—and then, a sound echoed.
FIIIIIIUUU—
Igris swore aloud, 'Now an arrow too?!' But the arrow wasn't aimed at him. It buried itself into the throat of the machete-wielder, and for a moment, everyone paused.
Igris immediately cloaked himself in aura, shoved Jim back with his shield, and slammed it hard into Elise. As his body rotated from the left-to-right shield bash, he spun into a full 360-degree turn, deeply slicing Elise across the chest in a diagonal arc. He tried to go for her head—but Jumba came charging in with his hammer. Just as he swung, Jumba felt something—an arrow pierced his shoulder. He dropped to one knee.
Igris quickly dashed to the side, lunged forward, grabbed the back of Jumba's head, and smashed it into the ground. He raised his sword to drive it into Jumba's chest—but Jim came in fast.
Throughout this battle, auras were colliding in chaos.
"AAAH! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Igris shouted in fury, blocking Jim's daggers with a roar. Suddenly, a sharp twang rang out—an arrow flew straight toward Igris's eye.
But another arrow intercepted it mid-air.
Seeing this, Igris grinned and roared with all his strength:
"GILAN! KILL THAT ARCHER!"
Far away, hidden among the trees, Gilan heard him and smirked. "Been working on it for a while, brother," he said, loosing an arrow of his own.
It flew toward the enemy archer—but she sensed it and dodged. Her hood tore, revealing a sharp-browed face.
Gilan whistled. "A half-elf girl, huh? No wonder your aim is so damn good!"
He quickly ducked to the side—an arrow embedded in the tree where he'd just been. He fired back, struck another incoming arrow in midair, and rapidly shifted position, loosing three arrows in succession. The woman dodged them all and fired three of her own at once.
"WHAT KIND OF HELLSPAWN IS THIS GUY?!" she whispered harshly, retreating to a new position. "WHERE IS HE? WHY CAN'T I SEE HIM?!"
She barely evaded another arrow.
'WHY IS NATURE HIDING HIM? IS HE AN ELF?' she wondered, narrowly dodging again. One arrow grazed her cheek—she felt the burn and a strange numbness.
"Not good! They're poisoned!" she muttered, quickly retreating and downing an antidote.
"Tch! Even if she's a half-elf, her senses are sharp. But way more fun than those idiot assassins," Gilan muttered with a grin as he shot down a man attacking Gloin and another sneaking up on Dwalin.
"That bastard! Is he mocking me?!" the elven girl whispered furiously, quickly drawing another arrow—but when she saw the incoming volley, she dove behind cover.
Stunned, she yelled, "ARE YOU AN ELF?!"
Gilan blinked in surprise. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, GIRL?!" he shouted back, loosing two more arrows. "I'M A HUNDRED PERCENT PURE HUMAN!"
"LIAR! NO DESPICABLE HUMAN COULD EVER BECOME ONE WITH NATURE LIKE THAT!" she shouted, her voice sharp with rage. Her disgust toward humans was undeniable; if the pay hadn't been high, she would never have joined this assault.
The girl's name was Valeria, and her past was rather dark. She was born from an elf who had been kidnapped to be sold into slavery. Her mother died giving birth to her, and her father never showed the slightest interest—he treated her more like a toy than a daughter. Eventually, she was rescued by nomadic Meadow Elves and accepted into their community. Valeria's birth had been a rare occurrence; elf birthrates were notoriously low across Middle-earth. Ever wonder why there are no elf children in the movies? Long lifespans come at a cost—otherwise, elves would be everywhere.
Among the Meadow Elves, Valeria was embraced for her talents. She grew up detesting humans from the depths of her heart, rejecting the human part of her identity completely. She had never met a good human. If not for her need to earn money for her tribe, she wouldn't have teamed up with them. In fact, after Igris died, she had seriously considered killing the exhausted team leaders and picking off the remaining men one by one from the shadows—gathering their heads like trophies. But fate had other plans. She encountered the green Batman of Middle-earth.
"…This woman is a serious racist. A few planks are clearly loose up there," muttered Gilan, who had remained quiet up until now. He killed the two men attacking Fili, then quickly reloaded his quiver after seeing he was out of arrows.
"These spatial pouches are insanely useful! I wish I'd had one in my previous world," he sighed wistfully.
Igris had packed his own spatial pouch with traps and arrows before the battle, handing it over to Gilan and Halt. This way, they'd never run out of ammunition and could set traps comfortably during short breaks.
While keeping an eye on Valeria, Gilan continued shooting down enemies attacking his comrades with precise arrows.
"HAHAHA! GILAN! WELCOME, BROTHER!" shouted Dwalin.
"THANK YOU, GILAN!" cried Fili.
"JUST IN TIME, MY DEAR FRIEND!" roared Gloin.
"WELCOME, MASTER!" called out Kili.
"You finally showed up, you little brat! I was about to lose my freshly regained youth to the stress," said Halt, finally letting go of the stone sitting on his heart.
Valeria was infuriated that Gilan didn't even glance at her while saving his comrades.
"DON'T YOU DARE UNDERESTIMATE ME, FILTHY HUMAN!" she screamed and drew two arrows. But just then, an arrow hit the spot where she stood, forcing her to retreat.
Gilan's eye twitched. "YOU'RE RUNNING AWAY, YOU COWARDLY WITCH!"
"I'LL DIE IF I DON'T, YOU WRETCHED HUMAN!" she snapped back and fired both arrows.
Gilan leapt from the tree, grabbed a branch midair, swung to another, and shot an arrow with lightning speed, dodging her shot by leaning sideways.
Valeria jumped from her branch to evade his attack. She landed on the ground, barely had time to rise before she noticed another arrow coming—she dove aside just in time, but another arrow was already headed that way. Her pupils shrank to pinpoints. Time seemed to freeze.
"That bastard… He guided me!" she muttered, twisting her body to escape at a difficult angle. But the arrow pierced her shoulder.
"UGH!?"
Valeria didn't stop. She rolled forward, dodging another arrow mid-motion, and fled into the forest, her shame burning hotter than her wound.
"You'll pay for this, despicable human ranger…" she hissed between gritted teeth. But another arrow whooshed past her ear, and she ran faster.
Gilan stayed silent, his voice heavy with disappointment as he muttered, "Am I really that scary? Both the forest bastards and this bitch are running from me?"
He let loose two more arrows, each felling an enemy. Then he tilted his head back at a 45-degree angle to the sky and sighed, "Dear Jenny, I miss you… Please come back to me soon."
In the heavens above, the image of a lovely woman smiled warmly at him. Gilan sighed again and shot three more arrows.
"No single mutt could ever understand the pain of love and longing," he said, grinning. He let loose four more arrows—each one dropping a foe.
"Now then… time for some duck hunting."
The tide of battle shifted drastically—thanks to the silent intervention of a forest ranger.