Chapter 61

John followed the group in silence as they pressed deeper into the forest. The trees, towering and ancient, cast long shadows across their path, the air thick with tension. The victory against the trolls had been hard-fought, but it lingered on John's mind that this was just the beginning. His body still ached, and the branch he held felt heavier with each step, a crude reminder of the battle. Yet, despite the exhaustion, a new fire had been ignited within him—one that wasn't fueled by the system, but by something far more personal.

Gandalf's words replayed in his mind. *"The strength you seek lies within you, not from the tools or powers you wield."* John glanced at the others as they walked ahead—Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and even Gandalf himself, their determination palpable. They had fought their entire lives against the forces of darkness, relying not on systems or external powers but on their own resolve, skill, and heart.

John clenched his fists. *I've been relying on the system for too long,* he thought, his jaw tightening. The system, once his crutch, had gone silent, forcing him to confront the truth: without it, he was still here. He was still fighting.

But why? Why was he really here?

The thought weighed heavily on him, sinking deeper with each step. Was it just survival? Was it to return home? Or was there something more? In the quiet of the forest, amidst the whispers of the wind, the memories started to flood back.

His world. His family. The life he had left behind when he was pulled into this strange, dangerous land. His mother's smile, the scent of home-cooked meals, the laughter of friends around a table. The love he had for his world, for the people he had left behind. That was why he was fighting. Not just to survive, but to return to them—to protect what he cherished most.

A surge of emotion welled up inside him, tightening his chest. He wasn't just fighting for this world. He was fighting for his own.

Suddenly, a distant sound broke through his thoughts. A low, guttural growl echoed from the shadows, sending a shiver through the group. Aragorn halted, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. "We're not alone," he whispered.

John snapped out of his reverie, his senses sharpening. His grip on the branch tightened, but something felt off. There was a new presence—something powerful and dark, looming just beyond the tree line. The air seemed to thrum with it, like the very essence of the forest had shifted, twisted by an unseen force.

Legolas's eyes narrowed as he peered into the darkness. "I feel it too. Something... ancient."

Gandalf's staff glowed faintly as he murmured an incantation, his brow furrowed with concern. "We must be cautious. The enemy watches us."

John swallowed, his heartbeat quickening. He glanced at the others, their faces tense, but something stirred deep within him. A sensation, faint but undeniable, thrummed in his chest, almost like a whisper at the edge of his mind. He had felt it before—during the battle with the trolls. But now, it was stronger.

Before he could fully process it, the ground beneath them began to tremble once more. The trees groaned as if in protest, their roots twisting and pulling at the earth. From the darkness, a figure emerged—a creature larger and more menacing than the trolls. Its eyes glowed a sickly green, and the air around it seemed to ripple with malevolent energy.

A monstrous orc, taller and more grotesque than any John had seen before, stepped into the clearing. Its armor was twisted and jagged, glowing with dark runes. A foul stench accompanied it, and in its hand, it held a massive, blackened sword that pulsed with dark energy.

Gimli let out a low growl. "By Durin's beard, what manner of foul beast is this?"

Aragorn drew his sword, his eyes narrowing. "It's no ordinary orc. Be on guard."

The creature let out a deafening roar, raising its sword high as it charged toward them with terrifying speed. The companions sprang into action, but John stood frozen for a moment, his heart pounding. The sensation in his chest intensified, the whisper becoming louder, clearer.

And then, it happened.

Without warning, a surge of power shot through him, unlike anything he had ever felt before. His vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, he saw it—manifesting in his hand, glowing with a fierce, otherworldly light.

*Sauron Bane.*

The sword wasn't just a weapon; it was a part of him, forged from his will, his determination. Its blade gleamed with silver light, and dark runes, ancient and powerful, glowed along its edge. The air around him crackled with energy as the sword materialized in his grip, solid and real.

John gasped, the weight of the sword familiar yet strange. He had read about it in the system—a legendary weapon meant to counter the darkest forces in Middle-earth. But now, it was in his hand, called forth by his own will, not the system's guidance.

The monstrous orc charged toward him, its massive sword swinging downward with deadly force. But John didn't flinch. With a shout, he raised Sauron Bane, meeting the orc's blade head-on. The impact sent a shockwave through the clearing, but John stood firm, the power of the sword coursing through him.

The orc snarled, pressing its weight into the strike, but Sauron Bane shimmered with silver light, pushing back the dark energy of the orc's blade. With a fierce cry, John twisted the sword, disarming the orc in one swift motion. The creature staggered, caught off guard.

This was his moment.

With a surge of adrenaline, John lunged forward, driving Sauron Bane deep into the orc's chest. The blade pierced through the creature's twisted armor, and with a final, guttural growl, the orc collapsed, its body disintegrating into dark mist as the power of the sword eradicated it.

Silence fell over the clearing. The companions stared in awe as John stood over the fading remnants of the orc, Sauron Bane glowing in his hand.

Gandalf approached, his eyes filled with wonder. "It seems, John, that the system is not the only force guiding you."

John looked down at the sword, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths. The truth settled over him, heavy and undeniable. The system hadn't given him this power. *He* had. Through his will, through his need to fight for something greater.

He tightened his grip on Sauron Bane, a new determination burning in his chest. The battle wasn't over. Far from it.

But now, he knew what he was truly capable of.

The real fight had just begun.