The Dúnedain had fought orcs for thousands of years—their potions were naturally trustworthy.
"Achoo!" The hound sneezed violently, its triangular head spinning. When it stopped, the wariness in its red eyes had completely vanished, replaced by confusion and bewilderment.
"Whine..." An aggrieved whimper squeezed from its throat as four slender legs bounded up joyfully, becoming a black shadow that caught up with the main force ahead.
"Whew..." Watching the orc formation move farther away until finally disappearing from sight, Aedric finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Though the situation was somewhat complex, with many species he didn't recognize, he had full confidence in Elrohir—he should be able to handle such changes.
Aedric adjusted his clothes and the chainmail underneath. This was borrowed from the Dúnedain Rangers before departure. Simple in design, it only protected the upper body and vital areas, not even covering the arms. Its appearance was worn, having long lost the bright gleam metal should have—just dull gray.
However, it was well-maintained, with no broken or unlinked metal rings. Next, he would likely face orcs in close combat in narrow spaces—better to be safe.
That's right, Aedric was about to perform the feat of boldly infiltrating an orc cavern. This had been the plan from the start.
By killing enemy foraging teams to draw out large forces for searches, then sending the most elite warriors—Aedric, Luna, or the elf twins—deep into the cave to rescue captives.
Then set fire to supplies in the cavern, burning as much as possible to make the already impoverished orcs' situation even worse. Facing hunger and enemies who could take their lives at any moment, this dual pressure would certainly cause the tribe's orcs to collapse.
Once they scattered, they'd pose no threat. Even if a few stragglers managed to escape pursuit and wandered near Hobbit villages, local villagers could easily eliminate them.
Though Hobbits loved peaceful lives, they didn't lack fighting courage. Those short bows, those stones, and those pitchforks that could kill wild boars—they used them all quite skillfully.
A few scattered orcs weren't cause for much concern.
Aedric wrapped both arms around the tree trunk, just preparing to slide down when Luna suddenly grabbed his sleeve. She frowned with a somewhat nervous expression: "Aedric, something's not quite right. The orc formation doesn't seem to have split up."
"Didn't split up?" Aedric asked urgently: "Then where'd they go?"
Luna raised her arm, pointing eastward.
Hm? Aedric looked completely puzzled. They hadn't killed any orcs in the east, nor were any ambush positions set up there.
Wait! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!
Thornfield Village was to the east! Instantly, an extremely dangerous yet quite possible conjecture surfaced in Aedric's mind.
After discovering some of his foraging squads had been eliminated, this orc tribe's chieftain hadn't thought about searching for enemies in Woody End at all. Instead, he'd chosen to go all-in, directly launching a major strike!
You killed my foraging squads? Then I'll come out in full force and directly attack the Hobbit village, seizing enough food and enslaving more captives!
Come face me head-on if you dare! When had orcs become so clever? So fierce? How did he know the Dúnedain forces here were weak?
Considering all this, Aedric steadied himself and turned back to Luna, saying urgently: "The situation's indeed wrong. I need you to find Elrohir and the others immediately! You know their position, right?"
"Of course." Luna nodded—they'd exchanged information before departure.
"Good, I hope you can get there as fast as possible, then tell Elrohir that the orcs'll very likely attack the village directly. After that, he should know what to do."
"Of the three of us, you're the fastest and have the best stamina. I'm counting on you."
"Won't you come with me?"
"No," Aedric looked back at the cave, his tone resolute: "The orcs don't know we've targeted their lair, so the plan proceeds as normal. Next, Morgan and I will enter the cave, rescue the hostages, and burn the supplies."
Morgan, crouching at the tree's base, looked up at his captain and new teammate, helplessly touching his nose. Originally he'd also wanted to stand on the branch, only to be sternly refused and warned with vicious glares.
Now he was finally mentioned, but for such a desperate, risky task. What could he do? He could only follow his captain's orders.
"Good, stay safe." Having spoken, Luna hesitated no more, turning to run up the tree trunk before leaping gracefully to another tree. Her form was as agile and swift as a leopard.
"I will." Aedric watched the departing figure, clicking his tongue enviously. Then he used a clumsy yet extremely safe method, hugging the tree trunk as he slid down from above.
"Let's go, Morgan." Aedric gripped his sword hilt, striding boldly toward the cave.
The Hobbit also drew his rune-carved short sword, following closely.
"Damn it, why can Rakad's people go hunting while I have to stay and guard this cursed, dog-shit-filled tunnel!"
"Not necessarily good news," came a shrill voice. "At least a third of those who went out last night didn't come back. We're safer here."
A Snaga squad grumbled as they walked out from the cave depths. Even though the chieftain had left with most people, they didn't dare slack off, only daring to complain quietly.
"Hmm?" With puzzled voices, the Snaga squad stopped.
Heavy footsteps suddenly echoed in the tunnel, growing closer and louder. The sound was urgent, seemingly identical to the recently departed drumbeats, making hearts race with fear.
It was a tall human. He charged forward wielding a sword flickering with white light, like carrying a string of glowing stars that cruelly stung the orcs' eyes!
"Invader? Stop him!" The Snaga squad leader howled, immediately issuing commands while secretly retreating. Watching his subordinates tremblingly advance, he turned and ran at full speed.
That sword's radiance filled him with terror—even dreaming of it could scare him into cold sweats. Never mind direct combat! Better hurry back and notify the big ones to come fight.
His mind raced as his feet never stopped, but after just a few steps, his shin felt sharp pain, as if hitting something hard. His body instantly lost balance. "Smack"—his entire face made intimate contact with the hard ground.
He was dazed from the fall.
Morgan materialized from thin air, thrusting his sword into the Snaga's neck. Watching it go completely still, he muttered: "Really hard bones—my shin hurts from the impact."
"Morgan." Aedric approached holding Mithreleth, with four Snaga corpses lying motionless behind him. He reminded: "We're pressed for time."
"Mm." Morgan pulled out his short sword and led the way. Soon they reached a corner. After briefly observing, Aedric raised his long sword and charged in first.
Inside was empty, the air carrying that unique orc stench. Like rotten eggs that had been sprayed by a skunk a dozen times. Aedric gritted his teeth and endured it.
Drinking that multicolored potion had greatly increased his tolerance for such strange odors. Indeed, drinking it repeatedly had created some habituation.
Most orcs had followed their chieftain out—no more songs, no more rhythm, no more clanging hammer sounds. Aedric advanced cautiously with sword raised. Wall torches provided enough light for human eyes to make out most things.
After crossing a suspension bridge cobbled together from hemp rope and wooden planks, he soon reached the cave's central campfire area.
A dozen Snaga sat in a circle around the campfire, seemingly playing some game. They chattered noisily without end.
Suddenly, one Snaga raised his hand and slapped his neighbor hard, sending him reeling while shouting: "You cheating bastard, you opened your eyes!"
Another Snaga stood and kicked, sending the first two rolling together while cursing: "If you didn't open your eyes, how'd you know he cheated?"
Then another Snaga rose, pouncing while yelling: "Maggot-like thing, I've been watching you forever—you never closed your eyes."
Then all the Snaga started fighting. Because they discovered everyone was cheating.
They'd agreed to close their eyes and see who could first touch the meaty bone placed in the center. Whoever touched it first got it. But nobody had actually closed their eyes.
Angry curses, hitting sounds, and meaningless roars instantly created chaos. Only when heavy "thud, thud, thud" footsteps arose did they stop and turn their heads.
Aedric watched this scene, feeling a sense of absurd comedy wash over him. But he didn't stop, instead quickening his pace.
Relying on Mithreleth's nearly meter-long blade, the runes carved on it providing damage bonuses against evil, plus his own long arms giving an attack range exceeding 1.5 meters when gripping with both hands.
Aedric charged forward quickly, raising both arms while gathering his full strength. The shining blade reflected the campfire, taking on an orange-yellow glow.
As his right foot stepped forward and his body leaned back slightly, both arms swung powerfully, making Mithreleth become brilliant firelight as it struck the stunned orcs.
The diamond runes on the blade shone brilliantly. The edge first split open one Snaga's abdomen, then penetrated a second Snaga's chest. After emerging from flesh, it sliced off half a third Snaga's head. Next it struck a hastily raised shield, cutting through both shield and arm cleanly.
One hit successful, Aedric immediately retreated. He held his sword alertly, watching the remaining orcs, mouth slightly open, breathing lightly.
Running and striking, that attack had consumed much stamina, but the effect was excellent. Three corpses plus one screaming cripple instantly intimidated the remaining Snaga—they stared at each other, even forgetting to grab weapons. Or rather, not daring to!
"Run!!!" Someone shouted something in the orcs' specialized language—"Black Speech," created by Sauron in his evil years.
The harsh, unpleasant sound that inspired disgust spread out. Aedric paused, then raised his sword, alertly checking his surroundings. He didn't understand what that outcry meant.
But the Snaga understood. Without hesitation, they turned and ran, circling behind the campfire toward darkness.
Now, not understanding became understanding. Aedric gave chase, casually killing with one sword the Snaga who'd just lost an arm but still stood there wailing.
Snaga's short legs naturally couldn't outrun human long legs. Moreover, Aedric ran faster than most people. Even with hands and feet, the Snaga was quickly caught.
Aedric moved like death itself. His first thrust found the nearest Snaga's heart. The second fell to a clean decapitation. The third scrambled up the wall toward a wooden walkway—Aedric's blade caught its legs first, then finished with a heart strike as it tumbled down.
The fourth drew a curved blade in desperation trying to resist, then had his weapon knocked away and was cut in half.
"Invaders!" The fifth shouted loudly, trying to attract more companions. His voice echoed layer upon layer throughout the cave.
He succeeded, but the attracted Snaga immediately saw the carnage by the campfire and the trail of corpses extending toward them. In the firelight, that black foul blood gleamed—as conspicuous as could be. Plus the tall human pursuing like a death god behind them.
Thereupon, those emerging Snaga unhesitatingly joined the fleeing team. Running around the cave like headless flies in frantic panic.
In just a few minutes, Aedric alone chased thirty to forty orcs along the cave's winding paths, gradually penetrating deep into the cave interior.
A Snaga with a short bow quietly poked his head out from a wooden platform on a cliff above. Watching the chaos below, he smiled cruelly, then drew out a reeking black arrow. Eyes narrowing, he locked onto the sword-bearing human.
That sword inspired fear! His right hand slowly drew the bowstring back, but before he could release it, a short sword flew from nowhere, piercing his chest.
Dozens of seconds later, the short sword suddenly flew up and vanished.
"Damn thing, still trying to ambush?" Morgan's voice came from thin air.
On another platform, a second archer stood up while a stone on the ground also disappeared.
"Whoosh." The stone struck the second archer's head. With a wail, the stone-stunned Snaga tumbled headfirst off the platform. Below was a pitch-black abyss.
"Blasted creatures," Morgan muttered under his breath, staying close behind the fleeing group.
Aedric chased the escaping Snaga deeper and deeper. Surrounding torches gradually decreased as darkness occupied most of his vision.
"Just how deep is this cave? I can barely see!" Just as Aedric considered whether to abandon the chase and return for a torch, a thunderous roar suddenly arose.
Then with a great "BANG," three or four Snaga flew directly upward while others began dodging in panic. Some climbed walls, others jumped off cliffs, and still others hid in deep darkness with only eyes visible, watching this place.
Aedric also stopped, his expression growing more serious. This big black one!