Astartes of the Bear School

Chapter 1083 1065. Gushan’s Prophecy

“This area was once the most prosperous commercial hub in the north of Middle-earth. The dwarves dug out countless gold and gems in the Lonely Mountain, and then these gold and gems flowed into Riverdale City and Lake Town through trade.”

 “It was a really good year.”

With tears in his eyes, Balin looked at the dwarf wind crossbow on the tower outside, as if he was looking back on the past era.

"Gold and gems are not only money, but also bring markets and orders, honing the skills of our dwarves. At that time, there were various large markets between the foot of Lonely Mountain and River Valley City, even the toy market. The largest in the north.”

“In order to protect his city and the prosperity of commerce, the Lord of River Valley City, Jirian, came to Lonely Mountain and placed an order with us. He asked us to create weapons that can protect his city from any danger.”

“So we studied day and night, immersed ourselves in ancient books and novel ideas, and finally we gave him the wind crossbow and the black arrow.”

“That weapon is filled with the magic of our dwarves, and it’s even enough to kill an evil dragon!”

 Speaking of this, Bahrain's mood was excited at first, and then dejected and helpless.

“But it’s a pity that on the day when the evil dragon really arrived, even though Girion bravely stood on a high place and shot three arrows at Smaug, none of them hit.”

“All the few black arrows were lost, and the wind crossbow was regarded as a souvenir of the tragedy and moved here by the refugees. If Jilian had shot the dragon that day, everything would have been different.”

 Lan En sat next to Balin, putting his hands on his knees and talking.

 “Speak as if you were present.”

“All dwarves know this saying, don’t interrupt me.”

Balin muttered dissatisfiedly and waved his hand at Lan En in disgust.

But Bud’s son also came here while Bahrain was telling stories. He pinched his hands together nervously and interjected with a bit of disbelief.

"But if you all know this statement, you should also be clear: Ji Ruian actually shot an arrow at the evil dragon. The black arrow hit a scale on the left side of the dragon's chest. The force was so strong that it almost destroyed the scale. Knock it off!”

"Just shoot another arrow at the same position and pierce the dragon's skin directly! The magic on the black arrow will not be hindered by the dragon scales, which is enough to kill the evil dragon!"

"That's a legend, kid." Balin shook his head helplessly, thinking it was the boy's angrily trying to save some face for their human hero, the city lord. "Just a legend."

He was still a child after all, and he didn’t have the courage to make any more excuses when faced with the old man’s perfunctory remarks.

And this statement from Bahrain is actually a statement that is generally recognized by people.

"I'm very old, Lan. I can no longer mount a goat as dexterously as I can, swinging a warhammer and a tomahawk to easily chop off the heads of orcs. But even so, I will never forget the sight of the Lonely Mountain. And it. Meaning to the people of Turin.”

　　After sending away Bard’s son, Balin continued to speak to Lan En.

“We were once prosperous, but we fell apart in front of the dragon flames that fell from the sky. Our people fled in all directions and lost their homes. I still remember that day.”

"Thorin and I were standing on the city wall of the Lonely Mountain. Dragon flames fell from the sky and passed by. It was Thorin who pulled me to hide behind the stone pillar. When we came out, there were only hundreds of bodies burned to charcoal. Dwarf warrior corpse."

 The passing dragon's fire burned hundreds of dwarf warriors to death. This was the first time Lan En heard exactly about Smaug's destructive power.

 Even if it’s just a small aspect.

Lan En has seen the dwarves' resistance to damage during this period.

These dwarves are similar in appearance and customs to the dwarves in the magical Middle Ages. Their creator is Valar and Aulë, the **** of craftsmen.

　　That is, the creator of the Sword of the Lady of the Lake held by Lan En.

 Creating life was originally the power and ability that belonged only to Ilúvatar. At that time, Aulë's creation of the dwarves was nothing more than making seven intelligent puppets out of stone.

 But Ilúvatar forgave Aulë for his transgression out of curiosity and loneliness, and gave the power of the secret fire that could truly create life to the first seven dwarves.

 Let them become real life.

 So the dwarves of Arda are truly lives born from the rocks.

　　When chatting with the dwarves before, Lan En clearly heard that Thorin was only knocked unconscious for half an hour even if an orc rode a warg and hit his unprotected head with a page hammer with great momentum! Nothing happened after I got up!

Let alone the combination of orcs and wargs, even mortals and bad horses, the momentum after charging with weapons is enough to cut an unprotected human body into two pieces and hammer it into pieces!

But the dwarves of Arda can really catch a swinging warhammer with their faces!

Perhaps this is because dwarves' bones and body structure are better able to withstand blunt force blows, but this ability to withstand damage is real.

 On the day when the evil dragon attacked, hundreds of fully armed dwarf warriors were burned in just one encounter.

Perhaps the evil dragon on the planet Arda is indeed not an ordinary thing.

“But even in the face of Smaug like this, you still want to go? What can you use to fight him? Are there still black arrows in the Lonely Mountain?”

 Lan En shook his head and continued to persuade Balin.

 “Black Arrow? No.” Balinghun said nonchalantly.

"We only made a few dozen experimentally at that time, and not many were left after completing Jirian's order. But do you think that the evil dragon has been entrenched in Elbor for such a long time, and those weapons that can threaten its safety will be Does it turn a blind eye?"

 After finishing speaking, the casual expression on Bahrain's face gradually disappeared, replaced by extremely serious and serious.

"But regardless of whether there is a black arrow, we have to go to the Lonely Mountain. That is the last chance. The Day of Turin is just around the corner. This is the only chance in the prophecy. In order to take back our hometown, we must not let it go!"

  "Prophecy"    Lan muttered this word.

If it were in the Magical Middle Ages, the weight of prophecy would not be too heavy in his eyes.

Although there are genuine masters of prophecy such as the prophetess Islini, most of the prophecies are just made up and spread out of political needs, or simply to stir up trouble.

There are so many such prophecies that truly powerful prophecies are like waves washing over the sand, making it difficult to distinguish them.

 Furthermore, the authority of prophecy has been irreparably affected.

 But in this world called Arda.

 “Let me guess, your prophecy is a poem?”

Lan asked Balin while pinching the bridge of his nose.

The old dwarf cleared his throat and spoke rhythmically: "When the birds of the past return to the Lonely Mountain, the rule of the evil dragon will end. At that time."

 “Stop, got it.”

 Lann raised a palm, indicating that Balin could stop.

“So, just because of the prophecy, you are going to break into the Lonely Mountain?”

 “No, you said it wrong, Lan En.”

Balin chuckled, looked at the witcher and said.

There was a sense of relief in that smile.

“Even if there is no prophecy, we will go to Lonely Mountain.”

“We are a group of poor dwarves who have lost their home, and facing the last chance to regain our homeland, we don’t care even if we have to face the most terrible fate, whether it’s a dragon or an army of orcs.”

“The prophecy has brought us here. It has taken almost ten months from the beginning of the journey to now. If we give up in the end, each of us will regret it for the rest of our lives. It is better to just die.”

Lan En nodded first, then looked back.

The remaining dwarves in Bard's house also heard the conversation between Balin and Lan just now, and they were all looking here at this time.

The fearlessness on his face after learning about the difficult road ahead but accepting it with relief is exactly the same as that of the old dwarf Balin.

 The injured Kili, Fili and Oin who looked after him, Bofur, and the hobbit Bilbo Baggins.

These are all the people who were not called out by Thorin to receive weapons.

 ‘The so-called sense of responsibility, the so-called persistence. These things are mixed together and become what is called destiny. ’

This is what Gandalf once said to Lan before he entered Dol Guldur alone.

If you know that there are dangers and twists and turns ahead, but still want to go on because of your own feelings, impulses, and persistence, you cannot change and you don’t want to change.

 What is this if not fate?

 Fate is not a predetermined trajectory, but the accumulation of previous life, the decisions people naturally make in key choices, and the sum of the mutual influence of these decisions.

Looking at the expressions of these dwarves, Lan En seemed to have a better understanding of this topic.

"What about you, Bilbo? The dwarves are fearless in taking back their homeland, but what about the hobbits?"

 “Me? Are you asking me?”

Bilbo opened his mouth in astonishment, and then looked around.

 Finally, he stuttered and said in a bit of panic.

“I, I am a hobbit, of course I am afraid of accidents, and I miss my Bag End and seven meals a day on time, but, but.”

 “I miss my home, but the dwarves, my friends. They have no home.”

 “I think, I want to help them get it back. Just, that’s it. Ha, ha, ha.”

 After saying this, Bilbo laughed twice. He was at a loss as he spoke, his hands repeatedly inserting his hands into his pockets, pulling them out, and inserting them into his pockets again.

 Clumsy, and from time to time he smiles deliberately awkwardly because of his lack of confidence.

 But there is no truer feeling than this clumsiness.

A group of dwarves who could fight with orcs without changing their expressions, their eyes were shining with water at this time, and they looked at the hobbits with a smile.

The flannel ball squatted next to Bilbo, looking up at his short friend with his mouth wide open.

Lan En also pursed his lips and shook his head helplessly.

 “They’re all a bunch of stubborn people who can’t be persuaded to come back. Damn the dwarves, **** the hobbits.”

"I'm so sorry, Master Lann." Bofur took off the tattered leather hat on his head and bowed to the witcher in a funny bow.

“Dwarves are always so annoying. Oh, and our hobbits!”