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As the saying goes, to do a good job, one must first sharpen their tools. Kael went directly to the Bucklebury blacksmith shop and commissioned a Hobbit craftsman to create a set of fine wand-carving tools based on his own detailed drawings.

With the tools in hand, Kael began to process the willow wood. He carefully peeled back the bark with a small, sharp knife, then began the painstaking process of carving the wood, meticulously shaping it according to the envisioned design. However, he quickly discovered that while his mind had mastered the theory, his hands lagged far behind.

Wand carving was a delicate, precise art. It required absolute concentration and unwavering precision; the slightest deviation could compromise the wand's balance and feel, rendering it useless. Unsurprisingly, his first attempt was a failure. The discarded willow wood, now marred and misshapen, was beyond saving. Kael could only toss the half-carved wand into the fireplace, watching it turn to ash.

Staring at the two remaining willow logs, Kael hesitated. He dared not continue, fearing he would waste them both. If that happened, he would be forced to return to the Old Forest and face the Old Man Willow again, a prospect he wasn't confident he could survive. Instead, he turned his attention to the pile of other wood he had collected. He would practice on them first, honing his skills until he was confident enough to work on the precious willow once more.

For the next two days, Kael was consumed by wand carving. Though he produced no successful wands, his craftsmanship steadily improved, and the wands he carved began to take on a more refined shape.

On the third night after his return from the Old Forest, a loud, piercing bell tolled throughout Buckland, jolting Kael and Drogo from their sleep.

A panicked Drogo knocked urgently on Kael's door. "Kael, wake up! We need to go to Brandy Square immediately!"

"What's happened?" Kael asked, his brow furrowed with concern as he saw Drogo's terrified expression.

"That's the Buckland alarm bell!" Drogo explained hastily. "It only rings when Buckland is in grave danger! The last time it rang was fifteen years ago, when the Brandywine River flooded! I wonder what's happened this time?"

Kael's expression grew serious. The two quickly dressed and rushed towards Brandy Square, joining a stream of other Hobbits all heading in the same direction.

The square was densely packed with anxious Hobbits. Kael, towering over the crowd, stood out conspicuously. At the very front of the square stood a row of armed Hobbits, members of the Brandybuck family, the rulers of Buckland. At their head stood Rory Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland.

"Silence!" Rory Brandybuck shouted, his voice ringing across the square. His expression was grim as he delivered the terrible news. "Everyone, Buckland is in great peril! The trees of the Old Forest have suddenly rioted! They are attempting to breach the High Hay and invade our homes! We cannot let them succeed!"

He continued, his voice resolute. "Therefore, I need everyone, except for the elderly and the children, to follow me and repel the trees' attack!"

A wave of fear and tension rippled through the crowd. Kael, however, felt a sudden, sharp pang of guilt. The Old Forest and Buckland had maintained a fragile peace for centuries. This inexplicable riot, this sudden invasion… could it be because of him?

The situation was dire. Regardless of their fear, the Hobbits of Buckland rallied, grabbing axes, sickles, hoes, and any other makeshift weapons they could find, ready to follow the Brandybuck family and defend their homeland.

Drogo Baggins clutched an axe, his face pale with unease, but he still turned to Kael. "Kael, this is our battle to defend our home against the trees of the Old Forest. You are not a Hobbit; you don't have to participate."

Looking at Drogo's sincere, worried expression, Kael felt another pang of guilt. He shook his head. "One more person means more strength. I can't stand by while you defend Buckland. Besides, have you forgotten that I am a Wizard? Perhaps I can help."

Everyone rushed to the High Hay. The battle was already raging. Countless Huorns had poured out of the Old Forest, their gnarled roots tearing from the earth. They swarmed the High Hay, pounding the ancient hedge with their thick branches, relentlessly trying to smash through and march into Buckland.

The thick hedge, a testament to Hobbit foresight, temporarily held back the Huorns' assault. But under their continuous, brutal onslaught, it was on the verge of collapse. Gaps were already beginning to appear, ready to be breached at any moment. The Hobbits who had arrived earlier were firing flaming arrows, desperately trying to repel the Huorns with fire.

Rory Brandybuck, the Master of Buckland, stood on a nearby hillside, directing the Brandybuck family as they operated several trebuchets. They launched barrels of oil and wine high into the air, sending them crashing down upon the Huorns behind the High Hay. Immediately after, flaming projectiles were launched, igniting the scattered oil and wine. The Huorns were instantly engulfed in a sea of flames. Some, drenched in the flammable liquids, turned into living torches, their agonized, low roars echoing through the night.

Kael couldn't help but admire Rory Brandybuck's quick thinking and decisive action. It was an intelligent strategy, one that even he hadn't considered.

But to the astonishment of Kael and all the Hobbits, despite their heavy losses, the Huorns continued their relentless charge. They furiously attacked the High Hay, ramming the hedge with their massive bodies, their thick roots tearing at its foundation.

Suddenly, with a deafening crack, a huge section of the High Hay collapsed. A massive Huorn charged through the breach, its thick roots and branches lashing out at the terrified Hobbits. The small bodies of the Hobbits stood no chance; if hit, they would be turned into a bloody pulp.

"Petrificus Totalus!" A dazzling white light shot through the night sky, striking the charging Huorn. The creature's attack instantly froze, its form locked in place as if turned to stone.

The few Hobbits who had narrowly escaped death stared at Kael, their savior, with awe and gratitude.

"All of you, get back! Leave this to me!" Kael said, his voice calm and resolute. He walked past the stunned Hobbits, straight towards the breach in the hedge. He couldn't bear to watch them die, especially when he felt a growing certainty that he was the cause of this devastating attack.

"Petrificus Totalus! Expelliarmus! Locomotor Mortis!"

Kael took the offensive, unleashing a dazzling barrage of spells. He became a one-man army, freezing, knocking back, and binding the approaching Huorns, a whirlwind of magic holding the tide at bay.

***

(End of Chapter)

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