The orcs' reactions were not as swift as the wargs they rode, but the wargs only heard the sound of the thunderbolt being thrown by Arthur and did not realize what it was.
After all, at this time, a certain industrial magnate had not yet started the "Industrial Revolution," and the orcs and wargs were not yet aware of the concept of "explosion."
Moreover, these two thunderbolts were not thrown directly at the orc captain but landed about a meter in front of him.
As for the warg that reacted, it even thought to mock the person who threw the object for their poor aim, and thus did not move its body away.
The orc captain on its back only noticed something had been thrown over when the thunderbolt hit the ground and made a sound.
But when the orc captain turned to look, what came into view was the scene of golden lightning eagerly tearing through the cracked pots that bound them and wreaking havoc outwards.
"Zzzzt—"
Two flashes of lightning sounded one after another.
The golden lightning, like a venomous snake targeting its prey, instantly coiled around the unsuspecting orcs and wargs in its vicinity, shattering their bodies and scattering them on the ground with a sickening burnt smell.
These two thunderbolts alone eliminated five orcs, including the orc captain, and three wargs.
Because this orc captain was also one of those in the back aiming bows and arrows at the dwarves, and this group of archer orcs was relatively concentrated, the result was that Arthur's two thunderbolts wiped them out completely.
In fact, the number of casualties from the thunderbolts also surprised Arthur himself, as he had never expected that an enemy would see a thunderbolt thrown at their face and not dodge or even care.
Truly astonishing.
Arthur sighed inwardly, then focused his attention on the remaining orcs and wargs.
After the short-bearded Dwarf and the thunderbolts he threw, there were now only three orcs and three wargs left.
The other orcs and wargs, who were not at the center of the thunderbolt's power, were startled by the sudden gruesome death of their captain and fell into a panic.
They looked left and right, but Arthur was very well hidden.
The three wargs' noses twitched, trying to use their sense of smell to detect the scent of the unknown attacker in the air.
However, the burnt smell from the bodies of their companions electrocuted by the thunderbolts effectively masked Arthur's scent, and the three wargs could only smell the odor emanating from the fragmented corpses.
Not to mention that the two dwarves in front of them had already realized someone was helping them; they did not choose to stand by but let out angry roars and actively charged at the remaining orcs.
Just now, you outnumbered me several times, so I fought more conservatively.
Now that you have so few people left, how could we dwarves possibly cower behind?
The short-bearded dwarf at the forefront led the charge, wielding his warhammer as if it were flying.
Beheading, decapitating, dismembering at the waist—the panicked orcs and wargs were cleanly dispatched by him alone, three enemies in the blink of an eye.
Arthur watched this dwarf for a few more glances, but his own movements were not slow either.
He strode from behind a large tree near the remaining three enemies, and after his King's Army Straight Sword decapitated an orc, his brass shield blocked a warg's bite, its foul breath assaulting him.
Then, the warg that attacked Arthur let out a mournful cry, its filthy body collapsing limply.
Arthur pulled the King's Army Straight Sword from the warg's neck, flicking the blood from the blade onto the ground.
At the same time, the last warg also had its head smashed by a warhammer, with the Dwarf and his companion working together.
"..."
The short-bearded dwarf cursed at the warg's corpse in a language Arthur did not understand.
Then he raised his head and bowed slightly to Arthur, thanking him solemnly: "Thank you for your help, brave human friend. These damned orcs have been active over an increasingly wide area recently; even here, there are traces of them."
He understood now; Arthur had just been worried that he might not understand what the other person was saying.
He sheathed his straight sword and slung his brass shield on his back, walking towards the injured dwarves while replying, "It was nothing. But it's not time to thank me yet; let me see how your companions' injuries are."
The short-bearded Dwarf scurried back to his three companions lying on the ground; their faces first showed anxiety, then slight relief, but then a deep frown.
Arthur also walked over at this point and saw that none of the three dwarves injured by the orcs had fatal wounds.
"If it weren't for you, I'm afraid my kinsmen would already be gone," the short-bearded dwarf said with a tone of relief, while he and another active Dwarf helped their companions treat their wounds.
All three dwarves had arrow wounds, and Arthur could easily guess that these dwarves had been ambushed by orcs in the forest, the first dwarf being taken down by a sneak arrow, and the others gathering together to protect him.
"Ow, gently."
After the short-bearded dwarf helped the last dwarf pull out the arrow stuck in his thigh, that dwarf and his two companions let out faint cries of pain.
But the short-bearded dwarf frowned deeply at the wound, which continued to bleed black blood: "These orcs' arrows are all poisoned, damn it. We didn't bring any herbs this time. We need to get them back to the Blue Mountains quickly, or this poison will slowly erode their lives."
Arthur leaned closer at this moment, roughly scanned the injuries of the three dwarves, and then mused, "Perhaps I have some emergency treatment methods."
The short-bearded dwarf looked in surprise at the human whose face was hidden under a helmet.
From his perspective, the other person simply made a grabbing motion in the air, and inexplicably, a golden stone emitting a gentle glow appeared in his hand.
It was a Warming Stone that Arthur took out.
It could consume one point of his Focus, or magic, to activate the Two Fingers' Prayers within the Warming Stone, causing it to emit a warmth like the sun, slowly healing the people around the Warming Stone.
Arthur threw the Warming Stone beside the three injured dwarves, and after feeling a portion of his magic decrease, the stone on the ground emitted a warmth that made one feel warm from the bottom of their heart.
The dwarves, whose faces had been extremely pale due to poisoning, were now enveloped in warmth, and a faint golden light emanated from their bodies, identical to the light emitted by the Warming Stone.
The short-bearded dwarf's lips moved slightly, his eyes gleaming with fascination.
He asked excitedly, "What kind of ore is this? I've never seen such a stone in Middle-earth. Where did you find it?"
"Eh? Although this stone isn't common, it's not so rare as to warrant that expression from you."
Arthur looked at the short-bearded dwarf with a bewildered expression, but his hands didn't stop moving.
He pulled out three green pills from his backpack. These were the "Poison Moss" Arthur frequently consumed after being poisoned in The Lands Between, made from a mixture of Herba, Cave Moss, and Giant Dragonfly Heads, which are common in The Lands Between. They are highly effective in detoxifying most poisons.
However, they were ineffective against powerful poisons of the Scarlet Rot level.
Arthur looked at the three injured and poisoned dwarves, and just as he was about to hand them the three Poison Moss pills, he found that the three dwarves struggled to sit up from the ground and sat around the Warming Stone with the short-bearded dwarf and another uninjured dwarf.
"No, there's really nothing good to look at with this broken stone."
Arthur muttered to himself, then cleared his throat, "Stop looking, eat the antidote first."
The short-bearded dwarf reacted, stepping forward to take the Poison Moss from Arthur's hand and handing them one by one to the injured dwarves.
"This tastes a bit like a mixture of cave moss and some kind of green grass, and there's also a fishy smell from some insect..." one of the dwarves commented with a twisted expression after eating the Poison Moss.
The short-bearded dwarf glanced at the other's wound, which had begun to bleed bright red, and said, "At least it works, the poison has been removed. Wait... your wound?"
Hearing the short-bearded dwarf's tone, that dwarf looked over in a panic and exclaimed, "What happened to the wound on my leg? Damn it, am I seeing things? Why is it healing so fast?"
The healing effect of the Warming Stone shouldn't be that fast, right? It's been almost a minute, and this small wound is just starting to heal.
Arthur couldn't quite understand what the dwarves were so surprised about, so he could only assume they hadn't seen a Warming Stone before, which was why they were surprised.
And under the dwarves' intense gaze, the Warming Stone that Arthur had thrown on the ground began to dim, eventually turning into an unremarkable white stone.
"The power of Prayers within the stone has been used up. How do your bodies feel, all three of you?" Arthur saw what the dwarves wanted to ask and spoke first.
The dwarves moved their bodies around. The dwarf who had been complaining about pain earlier said, "I feel much better. Your things are truly amazing. I never would have thought there would be a wizard who likes to wear armor. Thank you so much for your help. Are you going to the Blue Mountains? We are too, coincidentally. Would you like to come back with us along the way so we can properly thank you?"
"They seem to be mistaking me for a wizard of this world, just like Bilbo?" Arthur thought to himself.
But he didn't deny it; instead, he answered, "The place I'm going is called Minhiriath, not the Blue Mountains. Unfortunately, our destinations are not the same."
The short-bearded dwarf showed a puzzled expression: "Minhiriath, why go to that wild jungle destroyed by war?"
Then he realized something, adjusted his somewhat luxurious black attire, and said, "I forgot to introduce myself to the benefactor who saved us. It's an honor to meet you, Wizard. My name is Thorin Oakenshield, and thank you again for saving us."
He extended his hand, and Arthur grasped his hand and shook it: "I am tarnished, or you can call me Arthur, that's a name a hobbit friend of mine gave me."
Thorin nodded, withdrew his hand, and couldn't help but glance at the stone on the ground, saying, "You wizards certainly have many strange things. I've seen many glowing stones, but a stone that can glow and heal wounds at the same time is a first for me."
Arthur smiled, then asked Thorin, "Actually, I'm a bit lost. I set out from Hobbiton in the Shire and was attacked by these things. While chasing them, I deviated from my original route, so now I'm not sure where I am. Do you know where this is?"
Thorin looked at Arthur thoughtfully, then said, "You just said you were going to Minhiriath. Then your route is indeed quite off; this place is already close to the Blue Mountains. If you want to continue to Minhiriath, you need to go in this direction, cross the Brandywine River, and that will be Minhiriath."
And a Dwarf behind Thorin couldn't help but advise, "Ever since the remaining citizens of the Kingdom of Cardolan were afflicted by plague and then the subsequent flood, Minhiriath has become a desolate forest, with no signs of human activity. Now, the only things active in that area are evil creatures like orcs and wargs, or mountain bandits and robbers avoiding capture. Lord Wizard, even if your sorcery is profound, going there alone is somewhat unsafe."
"Thank you for explaining the situation in Minhiriath to me, but I do have a mission that I must go there to fulfill."
Thorin raised his hand, stopping the Dwarf behind him from continuing to dissuade: "Wizards are always loyal to their missions. Once they decide, no matter what you say, they will still go."
Then Thorin took off the warhammer from his waist and handed it to Arthur, saying, "If you need anything forged, you can find me in the Blue Mountains with this warhammer, and I will help you within my capabilities."
The warhammer, which dwarves could lift with one hand, appeared even shorter in Arthur's hand, but the inscriptions carved on its blade showed its significance and status.
"I wish you a smooth journey," Arthur said gently as he took the warhammer.
Then Thorin left with the other four dwarves, bidding farewell to Arthur.
And Arthur, under the correct guidance of Thorin and the others, re-embarked on his journey to Minhiriath.