Chapter 21: Battle of Hobbiton(1)
A Few Minutes Earlier:
Gamgee Hardwick:
Tsk, that impertinent child's manners deteriorate further with each attempt to impersonate that ruffian. His unwavering determination to embody the nefarious Swing eludes my comprehension. The only commendable aspect of that so-called 'comic book' character, as Rex refers to it, is his unique approach to fire magic, enabling him to compensate for his limited magical reservoirs with ingenuity. I must concede that I had never contemplated vanishing flames until Rex demonstrated it firsthand. But enough about that; I must return to my practice and cease this wasteful indulgence. Logically speaking, even an accomplished wizard traveling at full speed to Rosemary would require at least an hour, but my grandson seldom adheres to conventional norms. I wouldn't be astonished if he were to reappear before me in a mere ten minutes.
Now, it is time to refine my secret weapon, my innate magic. There exist a few select mages who awaken a unique magical ability upon their initial connection with their magical energy, and I am humbly among them. Admittedly, it may not be the most potent ability in existence, certainly not a lost art but a caster magic, yet under the right circumstances, it could prove formidable and serve as my ultimate ace against the inquisitors. I began to steady my heartbeat and block out external distractions, concentrating on attuning my inner spirit with the surrounding Ethernano, forging a bond and synergy between the two. But I did not stop there; I compelled my inner power to draw in the Ethernano, which attempted to resist and break free, but I refused to yield. I asserted my dominance over the external source of magical energy and bent it to my will. After a brief struggle, it relented, realizing there was no escape, and allowed me to absorb it. I sensed my bones, meridians, mind, and magical power gradually expanding as my veins surged, before settling and returning me to my usual appearance. "Once more," I commanded.
As I steeled my resolve to repeat the process, my eyes widened, and I instinctively turned my gaze skyward. Gradually, a subtle crimson glow began to envelop the village, forming a dome that, just as slowly, faded into invisibility, as if nothing had changed. Even from a distance, my heightened senses picked up the hushed murmurs of concern among some villagers who had observed this mysterious occurrence. "They've arrived," I grimly declared to myself. This unsettling event corroborated Annabelle's report and the accounts of other unfortunate women in Bluebell; the ominous Cult of Zeref had returned. "So Rosemary has already..." I sighed with a heavy heart, the implications of their visit weighing on me. Though I didn't fear for Rex's safety, as it was evident that the cult's magic users had come here with the intention of confronting both of us, he was better off outside the village. Rex possessed formidable strength, equal to my own, and with his recent improvements, we might stand a chance together. However, if I were to face them alone...
I shook off these fleeting doubts, renewing my vow to become stronger so that Rex need not share my burdens. My countenance and resolve grew even more determined. "Yes," I began, "I will confront them and ensure Rex returns to a safe village."
With a tap of my staff on the earth, I found myself out of the forest clearing, and in our living room. Unable to make any headway in teleportation magic, to compensate, I had inscribed magic circles in strategic locations and etched a similar rune onto my staff, allowing me to traverse between these key points. I opened my door and projected my voice throughout the village, urgency in my tone: "Lock your doors and take shelter! We are under attack! Do not leave until I give the signal!" The anxious cries of children filled the air as adults hurriedly gathered their young and rushed them into the safety of their underground homes. I tapped my staff once more and now stood in the heart of the village, the bustling square. With a levitation spell, I elevated myself for a better vantage point, a sight that brought both relief and concern. The good news was that only four adversaries approached, each from a cardinal direction, and they paid no heed to the villagers, making a beeline for me. The bad news was that I sensed they were all mages, unmistakably inquisitors by their attire. While I was confident in my abilities to handle one or even two of them in a one-on-one battle, facing all four at once seemed a daunting prospect. Especially if they possessed a trump card like that Adonis character.
As they drew nearer, I seized a moment to assess each of them, seeking any potential weaknesses and advantages. My initial scrutiny fell on the Inquisitor advancing from the North, who was the swiftest to approach. Towering at nearly 7 feet, he possessed a formidable, muscular frame. His hood was down, revealing a bald head, a lengthy, lumberjack-esque beard, crimson eyes, and a sinister grin. He sprinted towards me, covering long distances with each lunge, reinforcing his body with magic. I quickly surmised him to be a brawler, mentally noting to avoid a direct confrontation with this formidable opponent.
Next, I shifted my attention to the figure approaching from the West, a stark contrast to the muscle-bound man. He advanced at a leisurely pace, wearing a gentle, serene smile that seemed out of place in this impending clash. His demeanor was as if he had come for a pleasant chat or a casual stroll, raising warning flags in my mind. He even took the time to erect miniature barriers around the homes in his path, evidently intended to shield them from the impending battle. "The ringleader," I mused to myself, recalling that those who present themselves as kind are often the most sinister beneath the surface. His magical power appeared superior to the others, confirming my suspicion that he posed the greatest threat among them.
Turning away, I focused my attention to the East, where a slim figure swiftly approached on a broom. She sported a witch hat beneath her hood and had a wand strapped to her left leg. My initial concern lessened upon seeing her, as she wore a serious expression, which my grandson had informed me was a rare trait among foes. He had once quipped that only "fodder" displayed serious expressions in his experiences, but he hadn't elaborated on his reasoning when I questioned him. I remained vigilant in her presence, though her magical power and aura seemed decidedly average.
Lastly, I turned to face the figure approaching from the South at a moderate pace. This individual possessed a fit, athletic build, displaying a sharp analytical gaze as he drew near as if searching for something or someone. My heart quickened when he seemed to slow down and lowered his head in apparent disappointment. My pulse nearly froze as I caught some of his mutterings with my magically enhanced ears: "Aww, the boy isn't here."
One by one, they converged on the village square, gazing up at me. The psycho, the witch, the athlete, and, finally, the leader. The initial three remained eerily silent, but the leader broke the stillness with a demand, his tone a jarring contrast to his outwardly courteous appearance: "Where's the boy, Gamgee?" I retorted, my voice charged with frustration, "What do you want with Rex, you brat?!"
He responded with a nonchalant yawn and stretch: "Isn't it obvious? To join us. Our master will need a healthy vessel, and if Adonis's reports weren't exaggerated, your grandson should barely suffice." I concealed the anger that surged within me, my staff pointing menacingly at him as an amber magic circle began to form at its tip, sparking with yellow lightning. "And you think I'll simply hand him over?" I retorted incredulously. He shook his head, unfazed: "Of course not! Naturally, you'll be compensated." His suggestion left me in shock. Did this fool truly believe there was anything in existence that could compensate me for the sacrifice of my grandchild? Sensing my visible disdain and morbid disgust, he continued, unabashed: "Think about it. In exchange for little Rex's life, after the tower is complete and our lord is resurrected, the residents of these villages will either be freed or receive the esteemed privilege of serving our lord in his quest to unite Ishgar and usher in a golden age of magic." He exclaimed with disturbing enthusiasm. A tick mark formed on my forehead as I responded sternly, "If you haven't realized yet, brat, you still have to get through me to reach my villagers!" He merely shook his head, dismissing my resolve, "Gamgee, Gamgee, Gamgee, let's be realistic. You don't stand a chance against the four of us, especially without little Rexy by your side. Here, I'll even do you another favor. I'll let all the villagers of Hobbiton keep their lives, unlike in Rosemary, where we only took the children. Of course, the exception is you. I'll be merciful and let you choose. You can either end your own life here or become a sacrifice in our tower. While we don't lack materials for the Master's resurrection, it's always nice to have more, especially from the body of an accomplished mage."
I bit my lip, suppressing my anger at his callous confession of the devastation he had wrought upon Rosemary. With a weary sigh, I cleared my mind and asked, "Your names?" They exchanged confused glances before responding. The brawler, Ragnar, struck his left palm with his right fist and boisterously declared, "I'm Ragnar, old-timer!" The witch, Roxanne, regarded me with a serious gaze and calmly stated her name. The athlete, Marx Benoit, continued to scrutinize me analytically before realizing it was his turn to speak: "Marx Benoit, is my name." Finally, the leader placed his hands behind his back, wore a gentle smile, and introduced himself, "You may call me Joseph. I'm sure a man of your caliber has deduced that I am the leader of this motley crew." Ragnar seemed to snort indignantly, but he fell silent when Joseph gave him a warning glance that sent shivers down my spine. "Now, what do you plan to do with our names, old man?" Joseph inquired.
"It's simple," I began, capturing their full attention as my magical energy surged, causing visible distortions in the air. "I don't kill nameless individuals," I asserted firmly. Rage welled up on Ragnar's face, while Roxanne and Joseph displayed subtle frowns. Yet, Roxanne's expression remained rigid and devoid of emotion, whereas Joseph's conveyed a touch of disappointment and emotion. Marx continued to unsettle me with his unyielding scrutiny. Joseph feigned a sigh of sorrow, spreading his hands in a dramatic gesture, "Let it be known that we of the 'Church' of Zeref are not inclined towards bloodshed and employ it only as a last resort. Something you've compelled us to do," he added, pointing his right index finger at me, emphasizing the word 'church.' He snapped his right hand, and I widened my eyes as all the barriers he had erected on the homes in his path darkened behind him, threatening to engulf the smials and their inhabitants in an abyss. He elaborated, "Initially, it was a display of good faith to demonstrate our willingness to cooperate with you, but if you're not inclined to cooperate, then nothing can be done. Modifying the functions of my barriers is as effortless as breathing for me. If you don't stand down now, the lives of those inside those domes will come to a swift end—"
He abruptly ceased speaking as cracks appeared not only in those barriers but also in the vast crimson dome, crumbling apart as their magical energy flowed out and converged within me. Once again, my veins pulsated as I absorbed the immense and malevolent Ethernano from those fallen barriers, and my appearance stabilized. "What the?!" Joseph exclaimed, while Marx's quiet analysis - "What fascinating magic. Absorbing magic from spells. Can he also directly absorb others' magic power?" - redirected my focus back to the ongoing battle.
"Give me strength, Katrina," I whispered, offering a silent prayer to my late wife before commencing one of her signature spells. I pointed my staff downward with my left hand, and the tip ignited with a forest green magic circle. "Plant-Make: Prison!" I exclaimed. The four inquisitors were caught off guard to varying degrees as enormous green vines sprouted from the village square, converging into a massive beanstalk-like structure, lifting the ground beneath their feet. As they attempted to leap from the platform, and Roxanne took flight, a small dark blue magic circle materialized in my other hand, casting a matching blue aura that enveloped them, restricting their movements. Ragnar, Roxanne, and Joseph simultaneously chanted, "Telekinesis!" in their respective tones, while Marx added stoically, "But not the standard kind." Helplessly, they were raised 100 feet into the air alongside me, the platform halting its ascent as dark brown wooden bars emerged, enclosing the platform like a colossal birdcage. I lost my grip on them as they fought against the telekinesis, and the magic circle in my right hand began to crack.
They gazed around at their surroundings, and Ragnar ventured to the edge of the platform, attempting to step through the bars, only to be rebounded by an invisible force and barrier when he tried to leave. Frustration crossed his face, and he pounded the barrier with his fists to no avail. "Why?!" he demanded.
"Stop, Ragnar!" Joseph ordered, visibly irritated, and Ragnar reluctantly complied, leaving me with a sense of satisfaction. Joseph turned to Marx, raising an eyebrow. The enigmatic individual responded analytically, "It's pointless to attack the cage itself. I assume that even if we manage some damage, it will repair itself immediately. It's impractical and a waste of time, requiring all four of us to work together to escape, leaving us vulnerable in the process." He gestured towards me, adding, "It's far more efficient to eliminate the caster, which should dissolve the spell." He then turned to Joseph, who nodded in agreement and cracked his knuckles, addressing me, "You heard him, guys." This prompted Ragnar to grin manically, and Roxanne to face me with a serious expression and draw her wand.
"I've been low-key for over 50 years," I began, as various colored magic circles appeared around me, conjuring fire, earth, wind, lightning, water, and ice. "Because of that, some no-named brats think they can challenge me and harm my village. It's time for the name Gamgee Hardwick to resound throughout Fiore once more!" In response, they were encircled by their own magic circles.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
hmak27230
hmak27230 Sorry for the short chap, I'm just exhausted.
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