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When the three of them returned to the town, the sky had already begun to darken. George, recalling the memories of Ivan, greeted those he knew with practiced ease.
After a quick meal at a small tavern, where he sampled the unique wine of this world, he waved goodbye to Al and Apa, then made his way back to his small home.
"It's a good thing this avatar has no family left; otherwise, dealing with them would be troublesome," George thought.
He pushed open the door, entered the house, and cast a cleaning spell to tidy up the space. Then, he sat down on the bed to begin his meditation.
Ivan's father had been a hunter as well, but when Ivan was twelve, his father was killed instantly while attempting to hunt an Arawu wild ox.
The Arawu wild ox was said to be a descendant of the great hunting god Oloromi's sacred Arawu ox, known for its enormous white horns. The horns were so valuable that they could be made into a horn worth a fortune.
If the hunt succeeded, Ivan's father would have become a warrior of the human tribe, gaining a significant boost in status.
Unfortunately, he failed.
Ivan's mother, devastated by his death, passed away herself not long after, leaving Ivan to live alone.
To Ivan's misfortune, he too died while hunting, and that was when George took over his body. It seemed that survival in this fantastical world wasn't guaranteed for most people.
"Meditation is really effective!" George thought.
In just an hour, he felt as though he had meditated for nearly three hours in other worlds.
Night had fallen, and the moon, made from the fruit of the sacred tree, slowly rose into the sky.
However, tonight's moon was not bright; it seemed as if a layer of black smoke veiled its light.
To the north of Kosonian City lay the vast Adjalalan Plain, stretching toward the many fortresses of the Noldo tribe, all the way to the foot of Mount Sanggoroim.
On the opposite side stood the long-dormant fortress of Morgoth, Angband, located in the Iron Mountains. It was shrouded in poisonous fog and black smoke, obscuring everything within.
To the left of Kosonian was the towering Weslin Mountains, part of the territory of Prince Fen of the Kingdom of Fen, the current supreme king of the Light Elves of Middle Earth.
The eldest prince, Fëanor, was slain as soon as he arrived in Middle Earth, and the third prince had returned before ever departing. Now, only the second prince still lived and held power in Middle Earth.
To the right of Kosonian was the Him Range, guarded by the seven sons of Fëanor.
Together, these three forces formed a stronghold around Angband, trapping Morgoth within.
Thus, if Morgoth intended to unite Middle Earth, he would need to break through the defenses of these three forces.
And tonight, as the black smoke obscured the moon, a massive evil golden dragon, an army of fire demons, and Morgoth's half-orcs, bred over four hundred years, attacked the three weak points in three separate groups.
"It's the sound of a horn!"
George, who had been meditating, was startled by the deep, resonating sound of the horn outside.
This was no ordinary horn; it was the battle horn of the Beowulf family.
He quickly stepped outside, where torches were lit in dense clusters. The clan leader, Brygorn Ras, who was as strong as a bear, wore heavy armor crafted by the elves and held a spear. He shouted:
"The Elf City is under attack! The Beowulf family has long been under the elves' care, and now it's time to repay them!
All warriors, follow me to aid the Elf City! The rest, pack your belongings. If anything goes wrong, all the men will defend the rear, and the women and children will retreat south."
After swiftly organizing the defense, Brygorn Ras led the town's eight hundred warriors, mounted on swift horses, with a determination to face death as they rushed toward the Elf City, where thick smoke had already begun to rise.
"It seems that humans of this era are indeed different," George mused, watching the eight hundred warriors march away, shouting with no fear at all.
The terror of Morgoth was well-known in human legend, and Brygorn Ras and his warriors had made the decision to aid the Elf City, fully aware that it meant certain death. They had even made arrangements for what would happen after their passing.
In the future, it was uncertain if anyone would choose to flee with their people in such a situation.
After all, with only this small group, their presence wouldn't make much of a difference. The powerful Light Elves would buy them time, and by retreating south, there was a high chance they could escape the war and find a safer place to live.
"This is actually a great opportunity!"
George didn't feel unlucky about the attack on Elf City. Instead, he saw it as an excellent chance to establish a relationship with the elves.
If he could help the elves defend the central line, he would become a great benefactor to the branch of elves loyal to the third prince. His plans to learn magic and enchantment from the elves would almost certainly succeed.
After all, Morgoth, fearing being captured by the gods again, wouldn't leave Angband voluntarily. If things got dire, George could always rescue a few key figures and help them escape—there wouldn't be much trouble in doing that.
"Ivan, Ivan, Old Jim's calling us to the north of the city to set up defenses!"
At that moment, George's good friends, Al and Apa, came running over.
They were hunters in the town, not warriors, so they didn't need to go help Elf City. Instead, they stayed behind to defend the town.
If Elf City fell, these remaining men would have to stop Morgoth's dark army and buy time for the women and children to flee south. Now, they were heading to the northern part of the city to set up traps and fortifications.
"Tell Old Jim I'm going to help defend Elf City," George said with a smile. He spread his white wings behind him, waved at Al and Apa, and then chased after the group that had already left, including Brygorn Ras.
"Iv... Ivan... How did he grow wings?"
Al, Apa, and the others who were busy around the town froze, staring at George as he flew away.
George's flight speed was impressive. He quickly caught up with the forward group.
When Brygorn Ras and the eight hundred warriors saw George suddenly appear overhead, they were startled. Thankfully, they all knew him, or they might have drawn their bows and fired.
"Isn't that the hunter Ivan? How did he sprout wings?"
Under the amazed gazes of the group, George flew up alongside Brygorn Ras.
"Chief, I've learned some magic, and I want to help defend Elf City."
"Magic? I didn't know you learned magic. Well, well, you're truly a fine member of the Beowulf family! Come, join us and charge ahead!"
Upon hearing George's mention of magic, Brygorn Ras no longer questioned the wings on his back. He laughed heartily and waved his spear.
As the clan leader of humans, Brygorn Ras frequently visited Elf City and had seen various elven magic, including elves transforming into birds. The idea of someone with wings wasn't entirely foreign to him.
He just hadn't expected that one of his own people had learned magic.
After about twenty minutes of fast riding, they finally arrived at the gates of Elf City, only to find the city gates broken and the walls cracked.
(End of Chapter)