Chapter 65
His body moved instinctively, every motion honed by countless battles. As the first orc came within striking distance, John sidestepped, using its own momentum against it, and with a powerful shove, sent it crashing into the orc behind it. The wave of enemies was overwhelming, but his confidence had never been higher. Without the crutch of Sauron Bane, he was fully in control of his own strength, his own destiny.
Gimli let out a battle cry as his axe cleaved through two orcs at once, his small stature a deceptive force of destruction. "They just keep coming!" he yelled, but his tone was more exhilarated than concerned.
Aragorn was beside him, slashing and parrying with masterful precision. The ranger fought with a grace and fury that spoke of years spent on the battlefield. "Keep pushing!" he shouted, his voice ringing above the chaos. "We just need to buy Gandalf more time!"
Behind them, Gandalf's chanting grew louder. The air crackled with power as the wizard conjured a shimmering wall of light that began to stretch across the battlefield. The orcs recoiled from its touch, funneled into a narrower path, unable to attack from all sides as they had before.
"Now!" John shouted, seeing the opportunity. "Strike hard while they're bottlenecked!"
Legolas unleashed a flurry of arrows, each one finding its mark with deadly precision. The orcs, now packed together, became easy targets for the elf's sharp eyes. "Their numbers mean nothing now," he called, his voice calm despite the storm of battle.
John fought with renewed intensity. Each blow he landed was calculated, not just driven by brute strength but by skill and intelligence. He no longer needed the power of a cursed blade to feel strong. His own hands were weapons, and his mind the sharpest tool at his disposal. He ducked under a wild swing from an orc, stepping in close and slamming his fist into its jaw, sending it sprawling to the ground.
Beside him, Aragorn felled another orc, his sword a blur of motion. "You're fighting like a man reborn, John," he said with a nod of approval, even as he parried another attack.
John smiled grimly, his breath heavy but steady. "Feels that way."
But as the battle raged on, the true test of their resolve began. The larger orcs—the commanders, draped in thick armor and wielding massive weapons—finally made their move. They pushed through the ranks of their fallen comrades, their roars shaking the ground as they charged with brutal force.
One of them, a towering beast with a spiked warhammer, set its sights on John. Its yellow eyes gleamed with savage intent, and it swung its weapon with terrifying speed. John barely dodged in time, the hammer slamming into the earth with a force that sent shockwaves through the ground.
John knew he couldn't take a hit from that thing. He needed to be faster, smarter. He feinted left, drawing the orc into another swing, and then darted right, using its own momentum to send it off balance. With a swift kick to the back of its knee, the orc fell forward, and John delivered a powerful strike to the back of its neck, incapacitating it.
But the victory was short-lived. More orcs closed in, and despite the funneling effect of Gandalf's barrier, the sheer number of enemies was taking its toll. Aragorn and Gimli were tiring, their movements slowing, and even Legolas was running low on arrows.
John's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the battlefield. They couldn't keep this up much longer. They needed an out, something to turn the tide in their favor. His eyes landed on the thick, towering trees surrounding the clearing.
"Aragorn!" John called out, his voice hoarse. "The trees! We can bring them down!"
Aragorn looked where John was pointing and quickly understood. "Gimli!" he shouted. "Can you bring those trees down with your axe?"
The dwarf grinned, despite the blood and dirt smeared across his face. "Consider it done!"
As Gimli charged toward the nearest tree, hacking at its base with powerful, precise strikes, John and Aragorn fought to keep the orcs at bay, giving the dwarf time to work. Legolas provided cover from above, his remaining arrows taking down the most immediate threats.
Finally, with a great crack, the first tree began to fall. The orcs, caught off guard, scattered as the massive trunk came crashing down, crushing several beneath its weight and cutting off the others' advance.
"Another one!" Aragorn urged, and Gimli moved to the next tree, his axe swinging with renewed vigor.
One by one, the trees fell, creating natural barriers that slowed the orcs' advance and gave John and his companions precious moments to regroup.
Gandalf's barrier was now fully formed, glowing with a brilliant light that forced the remaining orcs into a single, narrow choke point. "Now, finish them!" the wizard commanded, his voice booming with authority.
John and Aragorn charged forward together, their movements synchronized. The remaining orcs, funneled into a tight space, had nowhere to run. They fought with desperation, but without the advantage of numbers or positioning, they were quickly overwhelmed.
Finally, as the last orc fell, silence descended over the battlefield. The ground was littered with the bodies of their enemies, and the air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke.
John stood in the aftermath, his chest heaving with exhaustion. His hands were bruised and bloodied, but he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He had fought without Sauron Bane, without any external power guiding him, and he had won.
Aragorn clapped a hand on his shoulder, his face grim but proud. "You fought well today, John. We all did."
Gimli grunted in agreement, wiping his axe clean. "Aye, not bad for someone without a weapon."
John managed a tired smile. "I guess I didn't need the sword after all."
Legolas approached, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. "This was just a scouting party. There will be more."
John nodded, already feeling the weight of what was to come. But for the first time, he felt ready. Not because of a sword or a system, but because of who he had become.
"We'll be ready," he said quietly, his resolve stronger than ever.
The battle was over, but the war had only just begun.