[Marvel's Magic Master] Chapter 254: The Beautiful Elven City

A few mere starving wolves? George wouldn't take them seriously, even if they were bigger than tigers or elephants.

"Come here!"

With a flick of his hand, the iron spear was yanked from the massive tree. Under his control, it spun through the air, skewering the remaining wolves that lunged toward him.

The First Age was indeed dangerous, but unless he encountered beings like Morgoth, Sauron, or a Balrog, he had little reason to fear anything else.

After dealing with the wolves, he fell into deep thought once more.

What path should he take next?

The goal of all his incarnations across different worlds was singular—becoming stronger. This world was no exception.

To obtain the greatest power in this world, the best option would be to travel to Valinor, the land of the gods, and receive their blessings.

However, as a mere mortal without achievements, that would be impossible. Sneaking in would likely result in punishment or imprisonment for decades—an utter waste of time.

Unless he could defeat Morgoth or help the Elves defeat him. Only then might he have a chance at entering Valinor with such a grand accomplishment.

That level of difficulty was too high for now, so he set the idea aside.

If obtaining the gods' blessings was out of reach for the time being, then learning the Elves' magic was the next best choice.

However, the magic in this world wasn't particularly systematic. Most of it was related to enchanting and forging magical weapons, as the Noldor Elves had primarily learned from Aulë, the god of craftsmanship.

Other forms of magic were relatively rare.

Combat here mainly revolved around melee and archery. At least in the films, the only magic he had seen was Arwen's water-based spell. Even during large-scale battles, he hadn't seen wizards casting powerful spells in combat.

Even Gandalf, a wizard, mostly fought with a staff and sword, using magic more for illumination than battle. It seemed that in this world, few preferred to use magic offensively.

Still, George believed that Elven magic must have something worth learning.

If not, he might have to help the Elves defeat Morgoth sooner than expected just to gain access to Valinor.

"For now, I should head back to the tribe."

The human tribe he was currently part of was located in Dorthonion, within the domain of Angrod and Aegnor, the second and third sons of Finarfin—Galadriel's older brothers.

This human tribe was led by the House of Bëor, who maintained an excellent relationship with the Elves, forging a strong friendship.

By returning to the tribe, he would have plenty of opportunities to interact with Elves and learn their magic.

Of course, he couldn't just be an ordinary human. He needed to gain some renown and become a well-known figure in the tribe. That would be easy enough for him.

Speaking of the House of Bëor, he didn't remember much about them—except for one individual.

The current chieftain of the House of Bëor was Boromir, and his younger brother was Barahir.

In The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Aragorn wore the Ring of Barahir, a symbol of his royal lineage.

Apparently, Barahir had once saved Finrod Felagund, Galadriel's eldest brother. Out of gratitude, Finrod gifted him the ring, representing the enduring bond between the Noldor Elves and the House of Bëor.

This meant that the House of Bëor might very well be an ancestor of Aragorn's people.

"Even if I don't learn magic, meditating in this world should be several times more effective than elsewhere."

As he made his way back to the tribe, George took in the lush forest, the crisp air, and the dense magical energy in the atmosphere, silently marveling at it all.

Thanks to his speed, he quickly caught up with the hunting party his human body had originally been part of.

"Al! Apa!"

George waved enthusiastically at the two crestfallen young men ahead, calling out to them.

The two turned around in disbelief. When they confirmed it was George, they immediately dropped their spears and bows, rushing toward him with joyful cries.

"Thank the gods! Ewan, you're alive! We thought the wolves had eaten you!"

"I got knocked out when a wolf tackled me, hit my head on a rock, and blacked out. When I woke up, the wolves and you guys were already gone."

George replaced the memory of having his throat torn out with a much less gruesome version of events.

Al and Apa, both rather simple-minded, didn't doubt him. Instead, they embraced him and offered prayers of gratitude to the gods.

With that, the three of them headed back to their village together.

As they emerged from the forest, a breathtaking city surrounded by verdant greenery appeared before them—the grand city of Gondolin, home to over ten thousand Noldor Elves.

Elves were blessed with eternal life. Unless they were slain or faced extraordinary circumstances, they did not die.

Though their birthrate was low, theoretically, as long as there were no wars, their population would steadily grow over time.

Even in death, their souls would not vanish but instead journey to the Halls of Mandos in Aman.

There, they could reunite with lost loved ones and friends, and eventually, they could be reborn as new Elves.

Not far from the Elven city was a smaller settlement with a noticeably different architectural style. This was the human city of the House of Bëor—though calling it a "city" was a bit generous; it was more like a large town.

Roughly three thousand humans lived there.

If not for the aid of the Elves, human civilization would never have developed so quickly in just a few hundred years.

Humans were the second race created by Ilúvatar. Unlike the Elves, who possessed immortal life, humans had only a brief century at most, barring divine intervention.

However, unlike the Elves, humans were not bound to this world.

Upon death, their souls did not travel to the Halls of Mandos but instead left the world entirely, journeying to a place even the gods did not know.

Thus, they were not shackled by fate and had endless possibilities.

"I really hope I get the chance to visit the Elven city one day and see the beautiful Elves!"

Al gazed longingly at the magnificent city in the distance.

Apa, however, teased him. "Why? Do you dream of marrying a beautiful Elf? Keep dreaming! Even our chieftain wouldn't dare say such a thing!"

The Elves of Gondolin were friendly toward humans and had provided them with immense help. However, many still considered themselves superior, having once lived alongside the gods as High Elves.

While some Elves did not share this sentiment, the vast difference in lifespan meant that few were willing to form deep bonds with humans.

"Come on, it's getting dark."

George looked at the distant city and waved to his companions before continuing toward their home.