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[Marvel's Magic Master] Chapter 258: The Elven Statue Battles the Dragon, George Rides Alone Through the Canyon
🕑 Added 2025-02-26 13:35:17 +0000 UTCAlthough Finrod was rescued by Barahir, the western defensive line was breached, allowing the orc army to advance unhindered and attack the High King's territory from both sides.
Shortly after, the central battlefield was also completely overrun. Angrod and Aegnor were slain.
In the west, humans who had secretly pledged allegiance to Morgoth betrayed the elves, launching a surprise attack. This left the sons of Fëanor in dire straits. Apart from the eldest, who barely managed to hold onto a single fortress, the other six were utterly routed.
With no other choice, they abandoned their positions, retreating eastward to preserve their strength.
Thus, Morgoth's three-layer blockade was completely shattered.
In a desperate bid to reclaim the last vestiges of elven honor, High King Finrod rode alone into Angband to challenge Morgoth in a final battle, hoping that by slaying the Dark Lord, he could bring the war to an end.
Though he fought valiantly and inflicted seven wounds upon Morgoth, he was ultimately slain.
If George wanted to prevent this tragedy, he needed to help Finrod hold the canyon pass and stabilize the western front.
Once that was secured, he could lead reinforcements back to the central battlefield. If time allowed, he could even assist in stabilizing the eastern front.
By doing so, the elves wouldn't suffer as devastating a defeat in this war.
Not only would this earn George the friendship of the elven race, but it would also preserve much of their strength for the final battle against Morgoth.
Otherwise, if the elves' defenses completely collapsed, George alone would stand no chance against Morgoth and his vast army of darkness.
"Can You Really Fly That Fast?"
Angrod and Aegnor's eyes lit up at George's claim. According to the dragon, even if they sent a messenger now, it would likely be too late.
Their only option was to try, hoping for the best.
But if George's flight speed was several times faster than a warhorse, then he might actually be able to warn their eldest brother before the battle began.
"Trust me, I wouldn't lie about something this important," George said firmly.
Seeing this, Bregralas patted George's shoulder.
"Elven, you must reach the prince with all possible speed. This concerns the honor of our people—you must succeed!"
"Understood, Chieftain!"
George unfurled his snowy-white wings.
However, instead of taking off immediately, he pointed to a massive statue standing at the center of the elven city. The towering figure was over two hundred meters tall.
"What is that statue made of? Is it sturdy?" he asked Angrod and Aegnor.
"That is a statue of our father, sculpted in Valinor. It's made of white stone—a rather durable material," Aegnor replied, though somewhat puzzled by George's question.
"Good."
Without further explanation, George soared to the statue's head, placing a hand on its forehead.
"Mimicry Transformation!"
A torrent of magic surged into the statue. It wasn't until George had nearly depleted his power that the white stone colossus finally opened its eyes and began to move.
"Hold the battlefield," George commanded, exhaling heavily. Then, without another word, he sped toward the western front.
As soon as George left, the white statue took several colossal steps out of the elven city. It stomped down on a horde of orcs, then threw a powerful punch at a dragon of similar size.
"What In The World?!"
The dragon spewed molten fire, but the flames had no effect on the enchanted white stone. Realizing this, it lunged forward, engaging the statue in close combat.
With the statue keeping the dragon occupied, the elven army and human warriors quickly regained their footing on the battlefield.
George had left this guardian behind because he feared that by the time he secured the western front and returned, the central forces would already be annihilated.
"What a remarkable human!"
Angrod and Aegnor watched in awe as the white statue battled the dragon.
They had never seen such magic before.
The Middle Eastern continent did have stone giants several hundred meters tall, but they weren't created by magic. Instead, they were a rare species of living beings—slow-witted and prone to fighting amongst themselves, often reducing each other to rubble.
"Why didn't we know Elven could do this?"
Bregralas and Barahir were just as stunned.
"If you'd told us earlier, lad, we would've carved more statues!"
Elven statues were exquisitely crafted, but human-made ones weren't too bad either. Even if they weren't as detailed, they could still be enchanted to help carry supplies!
They silently vowed that if they survived this war, they would mobilize their people to sculpt more statues.
A Race Against Time
George flew at full speed. After nearly half an hour of flight, he finally reached the canyon marking the border between the central and western battlefields.
"Sauron, you cunning bastard."
Hovering high above, George had a clear view of the orc army, which was several times larger than the one in the central battlefield. They were hiding on both sides of the canyon, lying in wait.
It was obvious—they planned to ambush Finrod's forces the moment they arrived.
The central battlefield was engulfed in flames and smoke. Finrod would undoubtedly have noticed and was likely marching to investigate.
Sauron had anticipated this and set the perfect trap to eliminate Finrod in one swift stroke.
"Finrod's Elven Army Is Here."
Turning his head, George saw Finrod leading his forces at full speed, his expression filled with concern for his younger brothers.
Historically, by the time Barahir and his warriors arrived, Finrod's forces had already been decimated, and Finrod himself was moments from being slain.
Barahir had to sacrifice nearly all his men to form a wall of bodies, barely managing to save Finrod from Sauron's clutches.
But this time, George had arrived ahead of Barahir—before the battle had even begun.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Instead of flying straight to Finrod's forces, George cast a spell, summoning a glowing guardian panda.
The ethereal creature soared toward Finrod, carrying George's message.
Sauron's army lacked high-tier units like Balrogs; it was composed entirely of orcs. Their sheer numbers had allowed them to grind Finrod's army down through relentless attrition.
To change the tide, George needed time to prepare an ancient spell capable of dealing large-scale damage.
Orcs were far stronger than humans, but they weren't particularly bright. While his spell might not kill them outright, as long as it paralyzed them, Finrod's forces could do the rest.
"Ancient Magic—Thunderstorm Descent!"
With precise hand movements, George cast an ancient spell.
Dark clouds swirled into existence over the canyon, lightning crackling within their depths.
Down below, Sauron watched the sky darken with a sinking feeling in his chest.
"This… doesn't look good."
Comments
kassiano lisboa
Obrigado pelo capítulo! 🐱
