“So, what will you do now?”

Alatar stood beside the throne, looking down from above. “Strike me down for your so-called ‘justice’?”

“If you wish to try, then go ahead. But let me warn you, even if you defeat me and awaken the King of Khand, you’ll only make things worse.”

“Right now, we only have two enemies: Mordor and the Easterlings. Once you’ve done that, we’ll have three. By then, no one will be able to escape.”

The king slumped on the throne, showing no reaction to this statement.

Garrett held a sword in his hand, his expression unreadable.

“You really were taught by the same master.”

Of the five Istari who came to Middle-earth, only Alatar and Saruman had volunteered. The other three had either been invited or forcibly sent.

“Do you really think this will work?”

“No. I never expected this small, cornered people to achieve anything significant.”

Alatar replied flatly, “But Khand still has its use. It helps us drain the strength of our greatest enemies, along with the traitorous Easterlings who joined them.”

“Useless,” Garrett shook his head.

“No faith, no ideals, no goals. Just people you’ve deceived and controlled… It’s meaningless.”

“How can you say it’s meaningless?”

Alatar spoke seriously, “You don’t understand the hardships of this land. The people are ignorant, inflexible, chanting the name of the Eye all day long, everywhere is like this.”

“So many have torn their families apart just to serve the Eye.”

“Have you not seen that since I arrived, the people no longer have to suffer under the Enemy’s oppression? They don’t have to ship their wealth and resources off to Mordor anymore.”

“The Enemy drains them of blood and flesh. But me, I want nothing. Who’s nobler, and who’s vile, isn’t that plain to see?”

“The Eye’s faith is deeply rooted. If you’re not forceful, how can you resist him?”

Garrett looked deeply at the blue-robed wizard.

“You’ve been too deeply influenced by that power. Have a glass of milk. Clear your head.”

“I’ll never touch that stuff again.”

Alatar rejected it without hesitation.

“Then I’ll have to force you to drink some.”

“You can try.”

The atmosphere in the hall grew tense.

Halbarad gripped his barrow-blade and stepped forward, but Garrett stopped him.

“Leave this to me. Go guard the door. If anyone asks, say there’s a feast inside.”

“A feast?”

Halbarad glanced at Alatar’s darkened expression, then at Garrett’s calm face.

“Very well. I’ll play security for a while.”

He shrugged and walked out.

“Foolish. I thought you were a man of reason.”

Alatar, staff in hand, slowly descended the steps.

“When a man becomes too blindly self-confident, he begins to believe everyone else is a fool,” Garrett responded, drawing his longsword.

Boom!

Without warning, a bolt of lightning erupted from Alatar’s hand, flashing across half the hall and striking at Garrett’s feet, blasting a large hole in the floor.

“I don’t want to be your enemy. This is your final warning.”

Alatar stared at Garrett.

But Garrett simply stepped over the crater and said mildly, “Before coming here, I met three other Istari. They all knew spells, but you’re the first to aim one at me.”

“You won’t like how it feels.”

“No, actually, I’m curious to try.”

Saying this, Garrett stepped forward.

Alatar’s face darkened.

“Mortals always try to challenge what they don’t understand.”

The wizard struck his staff to the ground. His sea-blue robe billowed with no wind, and his figure seemed to grow taller, as if he were becoming a giant. But as Garrett blinked, he realized it was only an illusion, brought on by the immense pressure of Alatar’s spirit.

Istari, elves, what truly sets them apart from mortals is their soul.

Those with powerful souls can influence the world with their will, stirring mysterious forces.

People call it magic.

Unlike magic disguised as technology, true magic flows with the mind, altering reality through intent.

For Istari, and some mighty elves, magic is an instinctive creation of will. Whatever effect they desire, they can achieve.

Flames rose within the hall, gathering around the blue robe, encircling him like a giant wreathed in fire.

“Trying to imitate a Balrog, are you?”

Garrett drank a fire-resistance potion.

Yet instead of a fiery eruption like a Balrog’s, bolts of lightning appeared around the flaming figure. Lightning and flame twisted together, then crashed down with a thunderous boom.

His eyes narrowed. He instantly summoned a wooden shield.

Thud!

The shield shattered and went on cooldown. His runic ring, necklace, and belt all flared gold, forming a barrier that held off the impact. Lightning and fire slammed into an unbreakable shield, as if sliced by a black blade, surging off to both sides.

In a single strike, the entire hall was filled with fire, except the small space at his feet and behind him.

His runic shield broke; the emergency one activated.

“Unexpected,” he muttered.

He looked up and saw the blue-robed figure was still slim. The “giant” had only been an illusion from spiritual pressure.

“Truly unexpected.”

With that, he swung his longsword mercilessly toward Alatar.

Clang!

A crisp clash rang out.

Alatar raised his staff, and a solid white barrier formed around him, blocking the deadly strike.

Garrett swung again, and Alatar no longer only defended. His staff lit up, glowing like lightning. He swung it, clashing directly with Garrett’s sword. The force was so great, it felt like being struck by a warhammer.

Any ordinary man or orc would’ve been thrown across the room.

But Garrett stood like a nail in the ground, unmoving. He locked onto the wizard and struck again and again, each blow heavier, each more damaging.

After several stacked hits, Boom!

Alatar realized something was wrong. He drew a sword from his waist, flames instantly wrapping around it, turning the blade red-hot.

With a lightning staff in one hand, a flaming longsword in the other, and thousands of years of battle experience, he suddenly turned the tide, forcing Garrett back with overwhelming skill.

Whoosh.

Garrett dodged and leaped backward, swinging out a brilliant white arc of sword energy that forced Alatar to retreat.

“If that’s all you’ve got, then you’ll never be able to defeat me.”

Alatar took a step forward.

“That’s not all.”

Garrett pulled out his staff with the Nine Hells focus.

Now, both men held a sword in one hand and a staff in the other.

With a wave of Garrett’s staff, a swarm of small bats materialized from thin air, hundreds of blazing bats rushed toward Alatar at high speed.

“Too vile!”

Even the deeply corrupted Alatar couldn’t help exclaiming when he saw the grotesque, fiery bats.

Boom!

One bat burst into flames and exploded on contact, forcing him to stumble back a step.

But that was only the beginning.

As the blazing bats clawed at the barriers he had conjured, they revealed their unstable nature, exploding like magical firecrackers. Except these weren’t mere firecrackers; they were like high-powered explosive charges going off in waves.

Each time the vis in one staff ran low, Garrett switched to another.

Soon, hundreds of bats were rampaging in the air. Alatar was forced to divert more and more energy to deal with these hateful creatures, and irritation began to rise in his heart.

And just then, Garrett rushed in again and brought his sword down with a vicious strike.

Thud!

Alatar was slammed back several steps.

Such power, it was even stronger than before!

Garrett had just consumed a Potion of Strength II.

“If that’s all you’ve got, then you’ll never be able to defeat me.”

He returned the earlier line word-for-word.

Alatar was now drenched in sweat, fending off both Garrett’s increasingly powerful attacks and the suicidal assault of hundreds of blazing bats.

Finally, just as Garrett’s sword combo reached a peak, and he was winding up for a Leaping Blow, Alatar suddenly drew a deep breath and roared:

“Enough!”

Boom.

He slammed his staff to the ground. A massive ring of light exploded outward, wiping out all the bats in one blow. The impact sent Garrett flying across the hall, nearly out the door.

—

“What was that sound?”

The two guards outside immediately turned around.

“There’s a feast going on inside.”

Halbarad blocked their path.

The guards glared and reached for their weapons. Halbarad placed his hand on his sword.

And thus, a new battle began.

—

Inside the hall, a blinding white light flashed, washing out all color for a moment.

When it faded, Garrett quickly bit into a golden apple, restoring his lost health.

He looked up to see Alatar breathing heavily, staff still planted in the ground. The flames that had once surrounded his sword were now gone. As Garrett approached again, sword already swinging, Alatar hastily reached for his staff…

Crack!

The moment sword met staff, the staff shattered cleanly in the middle, splintering into wooden fragments.

And the longsword kept going, finally landing a true hit in this entire battle.

…Wait. That feel—

He frowned slightly in confusion. He looked ahead and noticed: Alatar’s health bar hadn’t dropped at all.

That couldn’t be right, he definitely landed that hit!

Thud.

Alatar collapsed flat on the ground, though no flames consumed him.

His eyes, at that moment, suddenly looked much clearer, no longer dark or cold.

Something had been lifted with that final strike.

“You’ve won,” he said.

His voice, for the first time, was calm, like he’d been freed from something.

Garrett silently sheathed his sword.

Was it just his imagination, or had Alatar fallen too easily?

Still, this had been a fierce battle.

An Istari, or rather, a Maiar, even when bound in mortal flesh and heavily restricted from using divine power, was still overwhelmingly powerful.

If this had been a fully unrestricted, all-out battle… he might’ve been obliterated in a single blow.

“Ugh…”

At the moment the staff shattered completely, the King of Khand, still seated on his throne, let out a groan.

The paleness on his face began to fade. Slowly, the king stood up, forcing his eyes open to look around the hall, now filled with scorch marks.

The wizard lay on the ground. A powerful black-armored warrior stood silently within the hall, his personal guards lay defeated outside, and beside them was a tall foreigner.

He took a deep breath. His posture straightened, and color returned to his face.

He spoke slowly, “My memory is hazy… it’s like I just awoke from a long dream, in which many shadowy figures passed before me…”

“O wise wizard, tell me, what happened?”

Alatar replied, “As you can see, I was defeated.”

“I see.”

The king picked up the sword placed before the throne and stepped down from the platform.

“A foreigner, and an outsider, you two broke into my hall, defeated my guards, and brought down the wise wizard who advised me…”

That did seem to be the case.

But the vague, dreamlike memories stirring in his mind hinted that something wasn’t right.

Still, whatever felt wrong, there was one clear thing he now believed he had to do: Fight.

“Alatar, I’ll have questions for you later.”

He stepped past the fallen blue-robed wizard and pointed his sword at Garrett. “But for now! I’ll make these two outsiders understand the price of trespassing!”

Garrett looked slightly exasperated. “What if I said I came here to help clear your mind, would you believe me?”

“You mentioned clarity…”

The king froze mid-step, then suddenly burst into laughter.

“Yes, clarity! I’ve never felt so clear-headed. That dark, swirling voice in my mind has finally vanished, it was like a festering wound on the soul, keeping me in a constant fog…”

“But now that it’s gone, I finally remembered the answer to the question that’s haunted me, I now know what our nation truly lacks!”

“Oh? And what is that?” Garrett asked with interest.

“A true king!”

He shouted, “Those who once sat on this throne were weak and cowardly. The people followed such feeble kings and worshipped a false ‘Eye,’ letting themselves be used by him. That’s why our nation became so frail.”

“I understand now. Only a truly powerful king can lead the people to resist this shameful slavery.”

“And today, I’ll prove my strength by defeating you two invaders, then restore Khand to its former glory!”

“Feel honored, you’re about to become the first stepping stones on the road to Khand’s rebirth!”

Thud!

Garrett kicked the king firmly, knocking him to the ground and dragging him off to the side.

“Still not fully awake, I see.”

“He was corrupted for too long.”

Alatar stood up and gently lifted the king back onto his throne, at least so he could rest in his seat.

“Give him some time to recover. Perhaps we can still reason with him.”

“And what about you?” Garrett asked.

“Not great. Could I have a glass of milk?”

—

Gulp, gulp.

Moments later, Alatar handed back the empty cup.

“Thanks. At least now my head is a bit clearer.”

“I’ve got plenty more. Want another?”

“I told you, it can push back the darkness for a while, but it won’t solve the root problem.”

Alatar shook his head.

“Then keep drinking it.”

Cough, cough…

He began coughing.

“No, no, don’t worry. I can manage. Still, thank you. That final sword strike, it didn’t hit me. It struck something else.”

“Are you two done chatting?”

A voice drifted in from outside.

Halbarad stood in the doorway, looking at the scorched hall helplessly. “I’d suggest putting out these fires first. At this rate, the whole place will burn down.”

Whoosh.

A few buckets of water were thrown down, and the flames were extinguished.

“Much better.”

Halbarad finally stepped inside.

The three gathered in the center of the hall.

“So what do you plan to do now?” Alatar asked Garrett. “The armies of Mordor and the Easterlings are already on the march. They won’t be far behind, maybe just a few days.”

“And right now…”

He glanced at the still-unconscious King of Khand.

“We may have just lost our only ally.”

“It’s fine,” Garrett said calmly. “You’ve got me.”

“You’re going to help Khand fight off that army?” Halbarad asked. “Help a man who might become your enemy in the future?”

Even someone like him, who had stayed mostly on the sidelines, could understand the situation.

This King of Khand had only temporarily escaped the alternating control of Sauron and Alatar. He might be lucid for now, but that didn’t mean he was on their side.

Once Garrett and the wizard left, the region could easily fall back under Sauron’s control and march west alongside the Easterlings or Haradrim.

That was the bigger picture, something not easily changed by one or two people, unless they chose to remain here forever.

“I should remind you,” Alatar added, “the people here still believe in the Eye. It’s faith, not mind control.”

“I originally planned to use force to shatter that blind belief. But now I see, even the most violent methods can’t erase thousands of years of lies and worship in just a short time.”

“Don’t assume that just because we got in smoothly, the people here are our friends.”

“Their silence was due only to the king’s orders. If he wakes up and lifts those orders, the street vendors and random passersby will immediately pull out their knives and axes and come at us.”

“Especially you, Halbarad. You don’t want to know how Easterlings feel about Dúnedain.”

“Stay hidden. Even a royal decree might not protect you.”

“I understand,” Halbarad replied calmly.

Both men turned to Garrett, awaiting his final decision.

The fate of a kingdom, and the future of the entire East, might rest on just a few words.

Alatar gave a final warning, “We may end up facing enemies from all directions. Even the city we’re standing in could become a hostile fortress.”

“There’s no escape. No way out.”

He sighed, instinctively reaching for his staff, only to grasp a handful of splinters.

“…Oh.”

An Istari without a staff, it just felt wrong.

Oh well. Bows and swords would do just fine.

“No.”

A voice of rejection cut through.

Garrett shook his head, speaking calmly, “There’s no such thing as a true dead end in this world, only people who can’t find the way forward.”

“If there’s no road…”

“Then we make one.”

“If every person here turns out to be an enemy, then I’ll face them all.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep