Free Web NovelChapter 1120: Chapter 1100: Sorlin, Change
"Look."
Sorlin spread his arms in a masterly manner as he spoke.
"This is the great treasure accumulated by Thror!"
Sorlin grabbed a ruby the size of a dwarf’s fist from the pile of gold coins with a casual motion.
He tossed it carelessly towards the people on the stairs.
Philipp deftly caught it, but in the eyes of the young dwarf, there was no longer the joy and awe of returning home and witnessing the Golden Silver Sea.
Instead, he looked at Sorlin, feeling inexplicably worried.
Seeing Philipp catch the gemstone, Sorlin smiled and then said loudly.
"Welcome, my nephews, my brothers... welcome back to Elbo!"
Sorlin’s amplified voice echoed in the Treasure Hall.
To celebrate that their four companions returned home safely without any accidents, everyone could take a break.
But soon, all of them would have to return to this hall to search for the Aken Gemstone before they could rest.
"Also, the gate of our kingdom needs urgent repairs and fortification!"
Sorlin placed his thumbs on his grandfather’s exquisite gold belt, standing with hands on his hips on the steps as he spoke.
"There are already hundreds of refugees gathering in River Valley City, we must defend our reclaimed home and not let it fall again!"
Watching Sorlin issue orders from the steps, the dwarves felt uneasy, but they went to carry out their tasks nonetheless.
"Sorlin was not like this before..." Bombo mumbled, like a meatball, "He used to eat, live, work, and fight with us. Now... what’s going on..."
"Cut him some slack." Ouri, next to Bombo, picked up a hoe, preparing to repair the gate, "He is now the King Under the Mountain. Of course, it’s different from before."
Bombo grabbed a shovel, ready to continue digging for the Aken Gemstone in the Golden Silver Sea, muttering, "Being a king really changes things, how strange."
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The dwarves busied themselves inside the Lonely Mountain while the humans in River Valley City scrambled for survival.
When the dwarves lit torches at the gate of the Lonely Mountain to facilitate construction, Lann found his guesses were almost completely confirmed.
That is, Smaug was driven out of the Lonely Mountain by dwarves familiar with the terrain and equipment, rather than gorging and burning through the dwarves inside and then venting outside.
Sorlin and the others were still alive, and seeing their orderly conduct, none seemed to be lost.
"Good, it seems the heavens didn’t allow the evil dragon to harm people further, not even taking one more life on the night of its death."
Bard, covered in a mix of sweat and dust after busy work, stood with Lann on a stone bridge corridor facing the Lonely Mountain Gate as he spoke.
His voice carried a sense of relief, glad that the dwarves who had stayed with his family for a time didn’t meet their demise at the dragon’s maw.
Though Lann had mentioned it, it was merely speculation until now this served as concrete proof.
Strangely, Smaug, who had ravaged the Lonely Mountain Region for a long time, stormed out of the mountain in anger but lost its life without killing anyone.
Yet just the previous night, a mere handful of beastmen launched a surprise attack and set fires, resulting in hundreds of deaths in Long Lake Town.
Had these beastmen faced Smaug, they’d likely be decimated with just a flick of its tail, no fire necessary.
It simply shows how differences in tactics and adaptability to opponents can lead to such bizarre outcomes.
Conducting a simple strength comparison is neither wise nor accurate.
Smaug’s terrifying lethality and intimidation when facing large armies stopped any nearby force from provoking it until a massive decision was made.
Yet Smaug could be held at bay by an elite squad, and if Bard had shot accurately back then, it might have been slain immediately.
And an elite squad lacks the deterrence when facing an army.
This is why Gandalf implored Lann to inform Sorlin of the complex situation now in the Lonely Mountain Region.
Facing a dragon for a small dwarf reclaiming party differs greatly from facing an army of beastmen.
It’s not even comparable.
"Alright, let’s first get everyone settled."
Finishing up, Bard headed down to continue working.
Lann looked at the lit torches on the Lonely Mountain Gate opposite.
"Aren’t you in a rush to claim the gold?"
The Demon Hunter asked Bard, who was already walking away.
"The gold won’t run away, there’s no need to worry; there’s plenty of gold in that mountain."
Bard descended the stairs without looking back.
"But if we don’t get work done now, another freezing night could lead to real deaths. It won’t be too late to claim what we’re owed after settling down."
Bard’s clear and rational words made Lann nod.
The Demon Hunter followed behind him, dusting off his hands as they walked.
He had helped significantly in the city during the day, along with the Qilin.
Despite losing its horns, the Qilin’s body seemed to adapt well, able to clear paths through rubble with a single step, showing no signs of losing control.
The control over the lightning was still unstable without the Cang Horn, but the wide and expensive silk rune cloth from the magic horse harness of Airetusa had a suppressive effect on the current, so no trouble was caused.
In contrast, the appearance of the Qilin, noble and graceful, with an indescribable majesty to its body, really gave the townsfolk who had just endured two nights of fright some peace of mind.
They quietly started singing some ballads about the Qilin.
The tune was simple, and the words were simple too, much like a work chant.
Yet it gave these townsfolk, displaced from their homes, a sense of comfort and hope. The Qilin found it quite interesting to listen.
Lann always felt that the people here seemed prone to break into song, not knowing if it was a tune passed down from the Great Genesis Symphony.
Everyone could sing a couple of lines.
Earlier, during a casual chat with Bofur, he mentioned that even in the underground realm of the goblin kingdom in the Mist Mountains—a kind of beastman, these goblins would sing songs they composed and wrote themselves.
Terrible, strange, absurd... but they were indeed ballads.
"Anything else you need to tidy up? I’m done here, I can help you out."
Lann said, twisting his wrist.
"Really, that’s great!" Bard exclaimed with joy, but his feet never stopped moving.
With the sun about to set, the temperature would drop dramatically; they needed to race against time.
"It’s still that hall, not only was the stone gate outside blasted by dragon flame, but there’s a collapse inside as well, all needs to be sorted out."
The demon hunter nodded nonchalantly, "I understand, leave it to me."
Speaking of which, last night, after burning the outer layer of skin and muscle, and directly touching Smaug’s wound with the tendon coil.
The Valyrian steel cable lines within Lann’s body all seemed to have absorbed something good, becoming stronger.
Now, in River Valley City, besides the Qilin relying on the body of the New Continent Ancient Dragon, Lann estimated that he was the equivalent of a crane in terms of strength.
In front of the collapsed hall, the large stone at the entrance had been cleared away in half a day, only the rubble inside remained.
Lann rolled up his sleeves and stepped inside, moments later, he carried out a stone as big as half of his body.
The surrounding townsfolk stared in awe.
"What’s special about this hall? You spent half your day here today."
Speaking casually, Lann went back in as if nothing had happened, and from inside came a ’boom’ of a burst of air, followed by the smaller debris piles that had been stacked and tangled together, rolling messily apart.
Using Alder’s Rune to clear such rubble piles was indeed very useful.
Bard beckoned to the nearby townsfolk to help by placing the cleared rubble on the carts, while answering Lann.
"This hall extends underground, with decent insulation. There’s also a city warehouse nearby."
Bard’s ancestor was the City Lord Jirian, so no one’s more familiar with River Valley City than him.
"It’s large enough, even big enough to accommodate over a hundred people at once. We can first settle the vulnerable elderly and children inside, offering unified care."
"Though the air here hasn’t circulated for years and the scent isn’t pleasant, I think it’s the most efficient solution now."
As Lann used Alder’s Rune to dislodge the final pile of interlocked debris, the hall was free of any obstructions.
The waiting townsfolk outside filtered in, starting to clean up the modest rubble.
Lann picked up on the unfinished intention in Bard’s words, his tall figure not needing to stoop in the hall, he shot Bard a look.
As expected, without any unnecessary words, Bard walked over, and the two inconspicuously moved to one side.
"The ’warehouse’ you mentioned earlier is key, right? What’s inside?"
Lann tidied up his clothes and hair, a bit dirty from moving stones, while asking softly.
"What’s been left in this abandoned town for so long, what could it be?" Bard shook his head. "It’s a military arsenal."
"You’re planning to arm the townsfolk?"
"Of course," Bard replied bluntly. "The mighty Smaug is indeed dead. But I haven’t forgotten, it was the beastmen that truly cost Long Lake Town many lives."
"The beastmen disappeared from this region even longer than the dwarves, but now they ride wargs, destroying Long Lake Town. Moreover, the threat of dragons in this area has dissipated with death... Who can be at ease under such circumstances?"
Lann nodded in agreement.
"Staying vigilant is good."
The real impact of Sorlin reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, Lann hadn’t discussed with Bard. Yet, Bard, as someone who has lived in the Lonely Mountain Region for generations, instinctively felt the unease in the current situation.
The death of the dragon seemed to have removed the restraint on the barely calm lake, with Smaug’s deterrent effect on great armies and powerful forces gone, the undercurrents in all quarters were becoming increasingly restless.
And had the tendency to turn ’undercurrents’ into ’waves’.
"This is all I can do."
Bard held his aching forehead, giving a wry smile.
"Thanks to your influence, King Thranduil’s support should arrive tomorrow. Otherwise, I don’t even know how to let these poor souls survive the harsh winter among the ruins of River Valley City."
"Don’t dwell too much," Lann comforted Bard. "Once everyone is settled, Sorlin’s gold will revive this place."
Bard wiped his face, trying to perk himself up, nodding.
"Hopefully so."
