Chapter 210 Dragon Knight

Watching Smaug vanish from sight, Thorin and the other dwarves exchanged bewildered glances.

In this situation, even if they wanted to help Chen Nuo, they wouldn't know where to begin.

The sky did not belong to dwarves.

"What should we do?"

Bilbo asked anxiously.

"Don't worry about our Ranger. Didn't you see the fear on Smaug's face? If he truly is a Balrog Slayer, then slaying another dragon should not be a difficult task."

Thorin said in a deep voice.

Having moved away from the dragon's life-suppressing aura and now surrounded by endless treasure, the darkness and greed in his heart were wildly taking root.

"But..."

Bilbo looked up at the shattered dome and couldn't help but worry for Chen Nuo. After all, it was a dragon.

"No more talk. The most important thing now is to find my arkenstone!"

Thorin roared, cutting off Bilbo's unfinished words.

His somewhat hoarse voice echoed through the great hall.

Only then did the dwarves notice that something seemed amiss with their King. Those bloodshot eyes held a greed frighteningly similar to the dragon's.

However, out of loyalty, the dwarves could not question their King's command.

One by one, they could only bow their heads and begin searching through the endless treasure.

Bilbo instinctively reached into his pocket. The arkenstone was there. But looking at Thorin now, he recalled Smaug's words and swallowed what he had been about to say.

What if Smaug was right? Handing over the arkenstone would only harm Thorin.

It was better to be safe than sorry.

The news of the dragon leaving its lair began to spread across Middle-earth with the return of the ravens of the Lonely Mountain.

No one knew where Smaug had flown, nor if it would return.

But the footsteps of the Orcs and the dwarves would not slow because of it.

The strategic importance of the Lonely Mountain needed no description. With the dragon gone, it was the perfect time to act. Whoever seized the Lonely Mountain first would gain the initiative in the wars to come.

Some bold and greedy residents of the valley secretly sailed to the foot of the Lonely Mountain, hoping to spy on the dwarves' treasure. Some actually managed to slip inside.

Although Thorin noticed in time and drove them out before they could succeed, the men still returned to Lake-town with tales of the treasure they had seen.

With Thorin's foresight, he naturally understood what would happen next. Briefly wresting himself from the grip of his twisted greed, he led the dwarves in fortifying the Lonely Mountain's defenses.

The dome and walls shattered by Smaug were roughly repaired, and the dwarves managed to block the main gate exit.

Simultaneously, Thorin sent for aid to the nearest dwarven clans.

Though they had not yet recovered the arkenstone, they had driven off the dragon and reclaimed the Lonely Mountain. Thorin was confident he could summon dwarven military support.

This would take time.

With only thirteen dwarves holding the Lonely Mountain, they were hard-pressed just to fend off the greedy eyes of the Men from Lake-town below, let alone other threats.

Rumors of the dwarven treasure had spread throughout the town.

And they had all witnessed Smaug's departure.

Without the dragon's menace, a mere thirteen dwarves could not intimidate the people of Lake-town.

Had their lives been comfortable, they might not have risked offending the dwarves. But their difficult living conditions and dire financial straits undoubtedly fueled the greed in their hearts.

Especially since the Master of Lake-town was no good man. Urged on by his lieutenant, Alfrid, he mustered an army and marched on the Lonely Mountain, ready for a grand looting spree.

Their justification was sound.

After all, Thorin and his company had stolen weapons from Lake-town first. It was only right for the Men to demand compensation now.

Bard was filled with despair.

He could not stop the Master's actions, and could only watch as other townsfolk, swept up by their own greed, joined the march.

Lake-town's population was small, only a little over three thousand. Their fully armored soldiers numbered in the dozens. Adding hastily assembled militiamen with blades, they barely scraped together two hundred men.

But in the Master's eyes, this was more than enough.

No matter how strong dwarves were, could they really fight one against ten?

However, watching the boulders Thorin hurled down from above to intimidate them, the Master suddenly wondered if these dwarves might actually manage it.

Hundreds of pounds of rock, tossed so casually?

If that hit a person, they'd be black and blue all over.

Especially since the dwarves held an absolutely advantageous position, and the Men had no siege equipment.

It was maddening to think they had arrived a step too late.

If they had come earlier, before the dwarves had repaired the walls, things would have been much simpler.

The Master of Lake-town was a greedy, selfish man, but he was no fool. A fool could not become Master.

After a quick assessment of the situation, he realized a direct assault was unrealistic and began negotiations with Thorin.

In the past, Thorin's temperament might have allowed him to accept parting with a negligible amount of gold in exchange for the Men's withdrawal, or even some material aid.

After all, the dwarves *had* stolen from the Men first.

And their reclamation of the Lonely Mountain had placed Lake-town at great risk.

If the dwarves had failed, Smaug's wrath would surely have spread to Lake-town.

It was reasonable for the Men to come seeking some compensation now.

However, Thorin, now in the throes of his sickness, was clearly not thinking rationally. All he saw were Men trying to profit from his distress, and he angrily rejected the Master's negotiations.

He even nearly brained the Master with a rock.

Fortunately, the Master reacted quickly, using his lieutenant Alfrid as a shield, and thus escaped serious harm.

Alfrid, however, was not so lucky. His leg was broken by the rock. Given the basic medical conditions of Middle-earth, that leg would likely never heal properly.

The sycophant Alfrid would henceforth be known as Alfrid the Lame.

Now the dwarves and the Men were thoroughly at odds.

With the Men blockading the outside, the dwarves could not get out.

When Thorin and the others entered the Lonely Mountain, they had traveled light to save time, carrying few supplies. They could not hold out for long.

Dwarves could go a day without food and be fine.

But a day without water was harder on the body.

Especially after the strenuous effort of repairing the gate.

Yet even so, Thorin kept half the dwarves searching for the arkenstone in the treasure.

Bilbo had tried to dissuade him during this time, but the Thorin he saw now felt like a stranger, deaf to any sound advice, his mind consumed by thoughts of his precious stone.

Now, even if not for Thorin's well-being, but for his own safety, Bilbo dared even less to take the arkenstone from his pocket.

What if Thorin turned around and cut him down?

He saw traitors in everyone now.

Several days passed in this manner.

Thorin's sickness grew increasingly severe. He seemed unable to trust anyone, staying alone amidst the endless gold, neither eating, drinking, nor sleeping.

Bilbo watched this with deep concern.

But now he could only pray that either Gandalf or Chen Nuo would return soon.

Being alone, guarding the arkenstone, and facing Thorin in this state placed an immense psychological burden on Bilbo.

However, before either of those two arrived, they were greeted first by the elves of the Woodland Realm.

The Elvenking Thranduil had also learned of the dragon's departure and could not wait to come himself.

...

...

Dol Guldur was originally called Amon Lanc, Sindarin for "bare hill."

It was originally the territory of the Silvan Elves, but after the elves migrated north to the Woodland Realm, Dol Guldur gradually fell into ruin and was later occupied by Orcs.

After sensing the resurgence of dark power here, Gandalf had left the company to investigate.

His judgment was accurate.

Dark forces had indeed gathered here. He had even found Thráin II, Thorin's father, who had been missing for years and was suffering torment.

Unfortunately, the gathered dark power was a bit too much for Gandalf to handle. Not only did he fail to rescue Thráin II, but he also got himself captured.

Now he was imprisoned by Orcs in a cage, hanging over a cliff. His weak appearance showed he had not had an easy time.

However, news of Gandalf's capture had reached the Guardians of Middle-earth, who were already gathering forces to rescue him.

The reason the Orcs had not killed Gandalf outright was that the Ring of Fire, one of the Three Elven Rings they sought, was still on him, hidden by his magic.

The Orcs were torturing Gandalf to drain his power.

Of course, a Maia could not be killed in the physical sense. Even if his body was completely destroyed, it would only take some time for him to be reborn.

Just as Gandalf was about to give in, a deafening dragon's roar echoed from afar.

Before Gandalf could open his eyes to see.

Smaug descended from the sky, crushing the Orc guards beneath its foot.

"Gandalf, it seems you require assistance?"

The familiar voice roused Gandalf slightly. He murmured instinctively.

"Nuo..."

"Let him down."

"Yes, my Lord."

It was Smaug who responded to Chen Nuo's command.

The once ferocious and arrogant dragon's face now showed utter submission, even a hint of obsequiousness.

Looking closely, one could see that the Balrog Whip in Chen Nuo's hand had transformed into reins. Part of it was looped around the neck, while the rest was deeply embedded in Smaug's body.

Part of the Balrog Whip ran along flesh and sinew, gripping its heart, almost merging with it.

One could say Smaug's life now hung entirely on Chen Nuo's whim.

Given a dragon's nature, without such means of control, it would never bow to a master.

Smaug carefully used its claw to take down the cage imprisoning Gandalf and freed him.

Its cautious movements made it seem as if it were handling a priceless treasure.

Mainly, it had suffered so terribly under Chen Nuo's torment these past days that Smaug had developed severe psychological trauma, terrified of giving him any excuse for further punishment.

Just the thought made the dragon shudder.

Though unclear how ancient Balrogs had ruled dragons, Chen Nuo felt his current method was quite efficient. It had taken only a few days to tame it.

Stepping onto Smaug's palm, Chen Nuo approached Gandalf, helped him up, and asked,

"How are you? Are you alright?"

"...I'm fine."

Gandalf's voice was weak; his condition did not match his words.

"Can't you heal yourself?"

Chen Nuo inquired.

"I am too weak now, and this place is filled with dark power..."

Gandalf explained.

In other words, his power was suppressed, and his mana pool was empty.

"Alright, I'll get you out of here first."

Chen Nuo knew what to do.

However, the master of this place seemed unwilling to agree.

Nine wraiths materialized around him. They were once nine powerful and wise kings of Men. Now, their bodies gone, they were undead spirits controlled by Sauron.

"Dragon Rider, leave this place to us. Please take Mithrandir and depart."

A voice clear as a mountain spring spoke.

Chen Nuo turned to look. Light manifested.

This was not an exaggeration, but a literal description.

The darkness shrouding the area was noticeably dispelled.

Galadriel approached, radiant with light. By her side were the other two Guardians, Lord Elrond and Saruman.

"Agreed."

Now was not the time for conversation. Chen Nuo picked up Gandalf, stepped onto Smaug's claw, and returned to its back.

Seeing Chen Nuo preparing to leave on the dragon,

the Ringwraiths could not allow it. As ghosts without physical form, they could fly close to the ground, moving as if teleporting.

The weapons in their hands were also imbued with terrible curses.

Even Smaug would suffer if struck.

Yet the next moment, flames erupted from Smaug's body like a ring of fire, violently repelling the nine Ringwraiths.

A wail capable of piercing souls erupted from them.

They had been seriously wounded.

Clearly, this was no ordinary flame, but one infused with a certain authority.

After mastering the power of the Flame Lord and attaining the status of a Maia, Chen Nuo had gained complete control over the Balrog Whip. Using it as a medium, he could indirectly take control of Smaug's body.

Dragons were, in a sense, symbols of magic.

Because they themselves were sources of biological magical power.

In the current environment of Middle-earth, only a very few could wield magic on a large scale. Dragons were among them.

Chen Nuo was essentially using Smaug as an external mana pool for spellcasting.

Though he possessed the Flame Lord's authority, he was limited by Middle-earth's environment; his own mana pool was almost empty.

However, a dragon's magical attributes were too singular. What Chen Nuo could achieve with it for now was relatively limited.

Watching Smaug carry Gandalf away, Queen Galadriel secretly sighed in relief. Turning her gaze to the nine Ringwraiths regrouping, her expression grew grave.

These undead spirits were not particularly troublesome for her, but the symbolism of their appearance filled Queen Galadriel with dread.

It meant darkness was returning, and Middle-earth would be bathed in blood and suffering.