Chapter 260: Finrod Overpowered by Sauron, the Rise of the Magic Swordsman George (Third Update)

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A thunderbolt, thicker than a water barrel, erupted from the Thunder Giant's hand, shooting straight toward Sauron. His expression darkened instantly. 

"A mere human… How could he possibly wield such immense magical power?!" 

This level of lightning attack was enough to injure his physical body. 

As a Maia, Sauron would not die even if his body was destroyed—his spirit would persist. However, recreating a physical form required an immense amount of time and energy, something he would rather avoid unless absolutely necessary. 

Of course, Maiar who had fully transformed into Balrogs could no longer restore their original forms. Upon death, their spirits would be cast directly into the Everlasting Void, where they would face judgment from Eru Ilúvatar. 

"Human… you have angered me!" 

Sauron raised his black sword horizontally, and a surge of darkness burst forth, coalescing into a massive obsidian shield before him. 

Lightning clashed against darkness, but in the end, the dark power prevailed, swallowing the lightning whole. 

"I didn't expect Sauron to be this troublesome, even at this stage..." 

Seeing that his strongest Ultimate Railgun had failed to harm Sauron, George frowned. 

If even the Ultimate Railgun couldn't break through, then the Plasma Railgun would likely be even less effective. 

In terms of raw power, the Ultimate Railgun—which absorbed ancient magic—was far stronger than the Plasma Railgun. The only advantage of the latter was its rapid activation, as it didn't require the five to six minutes needed to channel ancient magic beforehand. 

"If Sauron is already this strong, I can't even begin to imagine how powerful Morgoth must be..." 

Sauron was merely one of the mightiest Maiar, still a step below even the weakest of the Valar. He only dared to make moves when the gods turned their attention away from Middle-earth. 

But Morgoth—he was the strongest of the Valar, even surpassing Manwë Súlimo, the King of the Valar. It took the combined efforts of all the Valar just to subdue him. 

"Awooo!" 

Suddenly, Sauron's form twisted. His body expanded rapidly as he transformed into a massive wolf, growing until he matched the size of George's Thunder Giant. 

With a piercing howl, the colossal wolf lunged at George's construct. 

"I almost forgot—this guy is the Wolf King!" 

George quickly commanded the Thunder Giant to intercept Sauron's attack. 

It was only after forging the One Ring that Sauron became known as the Dark Lord, the Lord of Mordor, the Master of the Black Land, the Lord of Barad-dûr, and the One True Dark Master. 

Before that, he was best known as Morgoth's lieutenant—and the Wolf King. 

Sauron had an entire island, teeming with monstrous wolves and vampires. Among them were the Maia-tier creatures Carcharoth, the Great Wolf, and Thuringwethil, the Vampire Queen—both fiercely loyal to him. 

He himself possessed the ability to take the form of a monstrous wolf or a vampire at will. 

However, George's Thunder Giant was built primarily for ranged combat, designed to unleash the Ultimate Railgun. It lacked the physical combat capabilities needed to withstand a direct clash with Sauron's massive wolf form. 

Soon, the Thunder Giant began to crack and show signs of breaking apart under Sauron's relentless assault. 

But just as the situation turned dire, Sauron suddenly let out a pained howl, recoiling as he swiftly reverted to his humanoid form. 

"Sauron! Your opponent is me!" 

Finrod had arrived, riding his elk into battle. 

Seeing George struggle, he had charged forward without hesitation. 

It was his enchanted elven longsword, imbued with radiant power, that had slashed across Sauron's wolf leg, wounding him. 

"Finrod!" 

For a brief moment, a flicker of caution flashed in Sauron's eyes.

Though Finrod wasn't as strong as Sauron, the gap between them wasn't insurmountable. If Sauron wasn't careful, there was a real chance he could suffer a setback. 

Seeing Finrod arrive to assist him, George dispersed the Thunder Giant and landed beside the elven prince. 

Maintaining the Thunder Giant in its peak state had been an immense strain on him. In that form, he had no mental capacity to cast other spells simultaneously. 

Since lightning magic seemed ineffective against Sauron, it was time to experiment with different types of magic. 

Now that Finrod was holding the frontline, George had an opportunity to test other spells—he just needed to find one that could truly harm Sauron. 

With access to the magic of so many different worlds, he refused to believe there wasn't a spell that could counter Sauron. 

"I'll kill this mutt first, then I'll send Morgoth to his grave next!" 

Finrod leaped off his elk, his body radiating a brilliant golden light as he brandished his enchanted elven sword, dashing toward Sauron like a gust of wind. 

While riding an elk was efficient for cutting down orcs, it was a liability in a battle against someone of Sauron's caliber. Over short distances, Finrod was far faster on foot. 

"Hahaha! You? Kill me? Have you forgotten how your grandfather and uncle died?" 

Sauron laughed, showing no fear as Finrod closed in. 

"I'll send you to Mandos first, and then I'll make sure your brother and sister join you soon enough!" 

He wasn't the least bit intimidated by Finrod. If he hadn't been momentarily distracted by that human earlier, Finrod never would have landed a strike on his leg. 

Not that it mattered—Sauron had already fully recovered. 

"They're too fast—I can't get a clean shot!" 

As he watched Sauron and Finrod clash, their figures blurring into streaks of black and gold light, George frowned. 

Their speed was so intense that his magic couldn't lock onto them properly. 

Worse yet, he lacked a proper wand, making it impossible to cast high-level spells instantaneously. 

"A wand… wait! What about an elven weapon?" 

A thought struck him, and his eyes lit up. 

Quickly scanning the battlefield, he found a fallen elven warrior and grabbed a longsword etched with intricate runes. 

The moment he gripped the sword, he knew—this will work. 

It wasn't as powerful as the wands from Fairy Tail or the Marvel Universe, but it felt superior to those from Harry Potter. 

The Noldor elves had once studied under Aulë, the Vala of smithing and craftsmanship, before they left Valinor. Their magical weapons and enchanted artifacts were second to none. 

Take Fëanor, for instance—the greatest craftsman of the Noldor—who had forged the Silmarils, gems so radiant they amazed even the Valar and drove Morgoth mad with greed, prompting him to steal them and set them into his iron crown. 

The immense power of the High Elves wasn't just due to their bodies being nurtured by the Two Trees of Valinor—it was also thanks to their enchanted armor and weapons. 

"Alright then, let's see how it feels to play the role of a Sword Saint!" 

George smirked, a plan forming in his mind. 

He redirected all his electrical energy inward, enhancing his body's physical capabilities. Then, in a flash of lightning, he shot into the battle between Sauron and Finrod. 

A Desperate Assault 

By this point, Finrod was clearly struggling. His exquisite magical armor had already developed multiple cracks, while Sauron remained completely at ease. 

Seeing an opening, George surged forward, aiming a strike at Sauron's neck. 

"Eat this! (Sectumsempra!)" 

At the same time, he unleashed the Sectumsempra curse. 

"Your speed is decent… but your swordsmanship is pathetic." 

Sauron's expression remained indifferent. 

Compared to Finrod's masterful elven swordplay, George's attack was filled with flaws. 

Even though his speed was impressive and his move was a surprise attack, his form was so riddled with openings that Sauron didn't even bother blocking it. 

He simply took a step back—easily dodging the strike. 

(End of Chapter)