Garrett sat on the steps with his back to the main gate, a sword planted beside him, gleaming with radiant light.

He appeared completely at ease.

But the drumbeats behind him remained within the gate, no longer advancing. The savage, bloodthirsty orcs, weapons in hand, still hadn’t launched their attack.

This fellow is full of openings, and yet… it feels like if we move against him, we’ll be slain instantly.

That was the first thought that emerged in the minds of the orcs, who were eyeing him like hungry wolves.

They were generally violent, hyperactive, brutal, and bloodthirsty, but they weren’t without cunning, and they certainly weren’t incapable of thought.

That sword alone filled them with dread from deep within their very essence, and that man, just as he had declared before the battle, had indeed succeeded in making every orc recognize his strength.

Not only was he blocking their path, but there was also an elven army beyond.

Should they attack?

The orcs glanced at each other in hesitation. Even the massive cave troll scratched its head, looking down at the orcs beneath it.

“Uhh…”

Garrett stretched lazily, and the orcs instantly grew restless. Some raised their weapons and shouted, others closed their eyes and ran backward.

“Nope, not fighting anymore—!”

Even their commanding Balrog had retreated, what was the point of throwing their lives away now?

With a great clatter of armor and weapons, the infernal army began to fall back and scatter.

The cave troll scratched its head, looked at Garrett, then at the crumbling army. With its limited intelligence, it pondered for a moment, and also turned around and lumbered away.

The willpower provided by Sauron had been repelled, and the substitute Balrog had also been beaten back. This hellish legion had completely lost its morale and collapsed like a punctured waterskin.

Watching the enemy retreat, Garrett finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Truth be told, while he himself wasn’t afraid, those orcs and beasts, especially the cave trolls, could have inflicted heavy casualties on the elves if they had charged in force.

No matter how skilled warriors might be, a troll can crush through finesse with sheer brute force.

When those creatures go berserk, there’s really no stopping them immediately.

Elves rely on precision in combat; orcs rely on overwhelming numbers and crude brutality.

That observation wasn’t wrong at all.

Whoosh.

The light on the sword, caused by the proximity of orcs, gradually faded. He sheathed the blade.

Then he stood up and formally greeted the elves.

“Thank you for your support.”

“Ah… think nothing of it. It was the Lady who led us here.”

Garrett gave a polite nod to the captain, then walked toward Lady Galadriel and bowed respectfully.

Lady Galadriel glanced meaningfully at the retreating orc army and said to Garrett with a smile, “I foresaw your arrival, and the danger you might encounter. I’m glad to see you emerge victorious.”

“It’s all thanks to your help.”

There was no doubt now: this noble lady had come specifically to aid him.

He was certain of it.

As expected of the White Lady of Lothlórien, her foresight remained as formidable as ever. She had probably already sensed something even when he was deep underground battling the Balrog.

“This is not a suitable place for lengthy conversation. A feast hall has already been prepared in Lothlórien. Please, come with us.”

The eastern gate of Khazad-dûm was not far from the Golden Wood, and that very day, the elven army returned with Garrett to that golden, flourishing realm.

Along the way, many of the elven warriors couldn’t help but steal glances at Garrett.

His fight with the Balrog, where he held his own against such ancient evil, had been utterly awe-inspiring.

Throughout history, those who could achieve such a feat were always powerful and renowned elven lords, or kings of great renown.

Whoosh.

As they stepped across the borders of the Golden Wood, the fog on his map gradually lifted. This entire region was marked in gold.

“So beautiful.”

He looked around and sighed in admiration.

The elven captain beside him replied, “If it were an ordinary outsider or someone who wandered in by accident, we would usually escort them out safely.”

“You wouldn’t happen to blindfold them too, would you?” Garrett joked.

“How did you know?”

The elven captain turned his head in genuine surprise.

Wait, they actually do that?

“…Just a guess.”

“Well, you guessed correctly.”

The captain explained, “It’s all for the protection of this sacred land.”

“Perhaps in the eyes of the outside world, we are mysterious and aloof, keeping others at a distance. But I can assure you, we have never harmed an innocent person. Every lost traveler we’ve encountered has been safely returned to where they belong.”

“What about visitors?” Garrett asked.

“Those who visit us intentionally are usually our kin. They know the hidden paths. You’re one of the very few Men to make it this far.”

As they spoke, the group had reached the end of the forest path. As they took another step forward, a soft light radiated outward, making even their skin feel refreshed, soothing and warm.

Standing at the threshold, Garrett gazed into the distance.

In a clearing nestled within the woods, a grey-white city wall covered in green leaves and golden vines stood tall. A crystalline stream surrounded it, and over the water was an arched bridge leading to a magnificent gate adorned with gleaming mithril.

Pure white, radiant, and enduring.

Like a vision from the Elder Days, or a glimpse of Valinor itself.

The guards atop the wall glanced down. When they saw Lady Galadriel sitting elegantly upon her white horse, they immediately gave the order to open the gates.

And thus, the wonders within the realm were revealed.

Elven architecture always gave one the sensation of stepping into a living dream.

Within the city stood many tall mallorn trees, and almost every tree had wooden structures built gracefully among its branches. Some were simple open platforms, while others were complete dwellings. The Galadhrim of Lothlórien lived within them, moving up and down using rope ladders or spiral walkways.

Besides the simple platforms and ordinary homes, a few larger trees bore entire palatial mansions, complete with winding staircases, so one needn’t climb at all.

As they walked along, it wasn’t long before the elves returned to their own tasks, some resting, some busy with crafts, and all the while, spreading tales from their recent journey.

The Balrog, the legendary warrior from distant lands, the retreat of the hellish legion, the sword forged by ancient kindred from ages long past… One could imagine: this forest would not lack for stories for quite some time to come.

With the army disbanded, only the elven captain and Lady Galadriel remained by Garrett’s side.

Together, they arrived before the largest mallorn tree in the city, home to Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn. The residence was composed of several platforms encircling the mighty trunk and a grand hall that seemed to glow with its own inner light.

“Welcome, Garrett.”

From the sacred hall above, an elf slowly descended and gently took Lady Galadriel’s hand, helping her down from her mount.

This was none other than the Lord of the Golden Wood: Celeborn.

The two stood side by side, regarding Garrett with eyes that seemed to hold the wisdom of ages.

A soft, gentle radiance filled the space without being harsh to mortal sight.

“It is an honor to visit this place. Greetings to you both.”

Garrett smiled and gave a slight bow.

Celeborn returned the gesture with a polite bow of his own.

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