> [System Notification: Reinforcements Arrived.]
> [Friendly Units Detected Joining the Battle.]
> [Fellowship Assembling (4/4)]
A crimson warning box flashed on Rove's retina, but all he felt right now was a rush of hot blood.
Harry Potter, the Ring-Bearer chosen by fate, made a move that stunned everyone.
He didn't use any fancy magic, nor did he seek cover. Like an agile squirrel, he charged straight at the Troll.
In Rove's System vision, Harry was shrouded in a golden light—the special aura belonging to the [Son of Destiny] (Protagonist Aura).
ROAR!
The Troll turned around, its beady, muddy eyes fixing on this tiny creature with a death wish. It raised its wooden club.
But Harry was faster. Stepping on the shattered remains of pipes scattered on the floor, he leaped into the air and actually wrapped his arms around the Troll's neck!
"Well done!" Rove couldn't help but cheer aloud, his frying pan (Dwarven Shield) humming with excitement. "Attack its eyes! That's its only weak point!"
Although Rove shouted "eyes," Harry clearly had his own tactical judgment—or perhaps it was pure panic.
Amidst the violent shaking, Harry thrust his wand forward.
Squelch.
The wand went straight up the Troll's massive nostril.
The Troll let out a howl of agony. This pain was clearly more direct than any magical damage. It twisted its body frantically, flailing its massive claws in the air.
"Beautiful critical hit!" Rove praised internally. It was a textbook assassin tactic; although the aim was slightly off, the effect was super effective.
However, the tide of battle turned instantly.
Though the Troll had low intelligence, its brute strength was terrifying. One hand clutching its nose, it lashed out blindly with the other and actually grabbed Harry, who was clinging to its back.
Like grabbing a little chick, it hoisted Harry upside down into the air.
"Harry!" Hermione screamed from the corner.
The massive wooden club was raised again. This time, the target was the boy with glasses.
"No!"
Ron, standing at the door, went white as a sheet.
At this moment, in Rove's eyes, this scene looked exactly like a desperate situation on the edge of Mount Doom. The Ring-Bearer was in peril, and darkness was about to swallow hope.
Someone had to step up.
"SAM!" Rove roared at the red-headed Weasley, his voice cutting through the chaos of the battlefield. "Stop staring! Use that move! Throw it away!"
Ron froze. Who is Sam? Throw it away? Throw what?
But the commanding tone in Rove's voice made him raise his wand instinctively, just like when Snape stared him down in Potions class—his body reacted faster than his brain.
He had no time to think of any advanced spells. His mind was blank, leaving only the one phrase Hermione constantly nagged him with.
Wingardium Leviosa!
Ron swished and flicked his wand, pointing at the thick wooden club in the Troll's hand.
A miracle happened!
The club, which was about to smash Harry's skull, suddenly seemed to lose gravity. It was yanked out of the Troll's hand and flew high toward the ceiling.
The Troll was stunned. It looked at its empty hand, the lethal strike turning into an awkward wave.
> [System Judgment: Friendly Unit cast skill [Telekinesis]. Check Successful.]
"Beautiful!" Rove's eyes lit up. As expected of Sam, always bursting with amazing potential at critical moments!
The club reached its apex, then, pulled by gravity, fell straight down.
THUNK!
A loud, dull thud.
The massive club landed squarely on the Troll's own head.
The blow was heavy and powerful; even the Troll's granite-like skull couldn't take it. It swayed, released its grip on Harry, and spun in circles like a drunkard.
Its eyes began to roll back, and its steps faltered.
This was a chance.
A fleeting opportunity.
Rove didn't hesitate. His combat instincts took over his body.
He took two running steps, launched off a piece of shattered sink debris, and leaped into the air.
In this moment, he was not a first-year Hufflepuff student.
He was the Avenger of Balin, the Conqueror of the Mines of Moria.
Mid-air, he raised the dented, deformed cast-iron skillet high with both hands. Borrowing the momentum of his fall, he used every ounce of strength in his body to bring it down on the back of the Troll's already-concussed head.
He swung down viciously.
"STAY DOWN!!"
CLAAAANG!!!
A resonant impact, like a bell tolling in a tower, echoed through the narrow girls' bathroom.
The force of the blow was so great that the bottom of the frying pan caved in again—this time in the opposite direction—molding perfectly to the shape of the Troll's head.
Time seemed to freeze for a second.
The Troll's massive body went rigid. Its white eyes rolled completely back.
BOOM!
Like a stone tower toppling, the Troll crashed face-first onto the floor. The entire room shook with the impact, dust billowing into the air.
Rove landed, bending his knees slightly to absorb the shock. He gasped for air, his hands still frozen in the striking pose, the webs of his thumbs numb from the vibration.
> [System Settlement: Combat Ended.]
> [Target Eliminated: Cave Troll of Moria (Elite).]
> [Contribution: Rove (40%), Harry (30%), Ron (30%).]
> [Reward Acquired: Strength +2 (You broke your physical limits).]
> [Achievement Unlocked: [Troll Slayer] — Even a frying pan is a lethal weapon in your hands.]
Sudden silence.
Only the burst pipes continued to hiss, spraying water.
Harry scrambled up from the floor, rubbing his bruised ankle. Ron was still holding his wand up, mouth open wide enough to fit an egg. Hermione, huddled in the corner, slowly raised her head, her eyes glazed.
They looked at the fallen Troll, then at Rove standing beside its head.
At this moment, he stood amidst the ruins, holding a severely deformed frying pan. His chest heaved violently, and his eyes still held a fierce glint.
"Is... is it dead?" Hermione asked tremblingly.
Rove straightened up and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. The System Filter gradually faded, and the epic background music ceased.
He looked down at the Troll, then at the ruined cookware in his hand. A tired but relieved smile appeared on his face.
"Probably just knocked out," Rove's voice was a bit hoarse, but he tried to maintain a reassuring calm. "Though I think I have a valid reason to eat an extra helping of pudding tonight."