A streak of white light shot ahead of Finrod's vanguard.
The spectral panda descended in front of the elven prince, its glow forcing him to rein in his great elk. The elven host behind him halted at once, disciplined and silent.
"High Prince," the panda's voice rang out, calm but urgent. "Do not advance. There is an ambush ahead."
Finrod studied the glowing creature, brows knitting. "What manner of being are you? And what ambush do you speak of?"
"I am Evan George of the House of Bëor," the voice replied. "Morgoth's armies are assaulting Hithlum. By the order of Princes Angrod and Aegnor, I came to warn you. Sauron has hidden a vast orc host within the canyon ahead. Advancing now would be fatal."
Finrod's suspicion was clear. The House of Bëor were humans he himself had once guided eastward. None of them resembled a glowing panda.
Sensing the doubt, Rowan added quickly, "This is a messenger spell. My true body is in the sky, preparing a large-scale lightning working. Once it falls, the orcs will be forced out of hiding. That will be your moment to strike."
Finrod glanced toward the canyon. Dark clouds churned unnaturally overhead, lightning writhing inside them like living serpents. The energy in the air felt unmistakably pure, closer to light than shadow.
That alone convinced him.
"Archers," Finrod commanded. "Prepare."
As one, the elven warriors unslung their bows, nocking enchanted arrows and waiting in absolute silence. The High Elves were peerless marksmen. Even Glaurung dared not linger beneath a unified volley from them.
"Now," the panda said.
Six minutes of chanting reached completion.
The storm broke.
Lightning fell like rain, crashing into the canyon in blinding succession. With orcs packed shoulder to shoulder, there was no need to aim.
The screams began at once.
Hearing the howls echoing from below, Finrod no longer doubted. He drew his blade and shouted, "Target the canyon. Fire!"
The first volley flew before the echoes of the thunder faded. Then the second. The third. The arrows never stopped.
Two thousand High Elves loosed sixteen thousand arrows in moments, firing with mechanical precision. Before the first wave struck home, the eighth was already in flight.
Rowan watched from above, impressed despite himself. No wonder Morgoth's legions had been trapped in Angband for centuries. Charging such a force head-on was suicide.
His lightning only paralyzed the orcs. The killing came from the elves. Enchanted arrows pierced armor, flesh, and bone alike.
Below, Sauron snarled as dark power flared around him, deflecting lightning and arrows alike. Watching his troops fall in droves, his fury boiled over.
"Advance! Charge!" he roared.
The horns sounded. Orcs poured from the canyon, desperate to escape the storm's reach and force close combat.
Finrod lowered his sword and spurred his mount forward. The High Elves followed, bows stowed, blades drawn, their movements graceful and deadly.
The clash was brutal. Steel met flesh. The canyon became a slaughterhouse.
Sauron did not join the fray.
Instead, he brushed his fingers across his brow. A crimson eye opened there, narrow and merciless, scanning the sky.
"There," he hissed. "A human."
Rage twisted his features. A mere mortal had dared disrupt his design.
Drawing his dark blade, Sauron launched himself skyward, flying straight toward Rowan.
Rowan met his gaze calmly. This was not the armored terror of later ages, but Sauron was still magnificent and terrible, more beautiful than most elves, his presence crushing.
"So this is you," Rowan muttered. "Definitely not the movie version."
He flicked a coin.
"Railgun."
The electromagnetic blast screamed toward Sauron, only to be split cleanly in half by a casual sweep of the dark sword.
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "Figures."
Sauron closed the distance in a heartbeat. Rowan had no intention of testing his luck in melee.
"Blink."
He vanished and reappeared on the canyon floor. The earth trembled as his power surged outward.
"Thunder Titan."
Stone, metal, and sand ripped free from the ground, drawn together by electromagnetic force. In seconds, a towering giant took shape, dozens of meters tall and growing.
"Channel."
All the lightning from the storm above poured into the construct. The titan swelled to colossal size, crackling with blinding energy.
It crushed orcs beneath its feet without slowing, then raised its arm toward the dark figure in the air.
Rowan's voice echoed through the battlefield.
"Take this."
"The ultimate railgun."