Chapter 246: Aftermath

In that cave flickering with hearth fire, thirty or forty Dwarf corpses lay scattered about, and their attire was slightly different; a small portion of them could be seen at a glance to have stayed in this cave environment for a long time.

Not only had the dust on their clothes never been cleaned, but even their hair was matted into strands by grease and mud.

The other, larger portion of Dwarves was slightly different—not to say they were any cleaner than the others, but they lacked that look of being covered in dust; otherwise, there was no difference, as both groups were equally neglectful of hygiene.

The only distinction might be the Dwarf leader slumped in the center of the cave, whose once-luxurious clothing was soaked through with blood, with several arrows shimmering with blue-white light embedded in his chest, and his right hand, which had once gripped a Golden Battle Axe, had been severed from his arm and lay alone to the side.

The severed part of the wound was extremely smooth, and one could tell at a glance it had been slashed by a sharp weapon.

The place he had guarded until the end was a stone table, where a pool of pitch-black powder was piled up, shimmering with faint, eerie light under the reflection of the hearth fire.

Holimion stood blankly beside the stone table, gripping a black war hammer in both hands.

Before all this happened, that black crystal ball had suddenly coiled with soul-captivating firelight, and it was clear that someone was manipulating it from behind; Holimion had long since determined that the black crystal ball possessed eerie abilities, so after killing the Dwarves blocking his path, he attacked it immediately.

After being struck by the Battering Ram, the crystal ball emitted a soul-shaking aura, and as it shattered into powder, a stream of black-tinged red smoke rose directly up and flew rapidly toward the passage Holimion had come from.

However, the way it looked always gave one the feeling of a desperate flight.

After a considerable amount of time had passed, Holimion was the first to recover from the state of being stunned, and the Twilight Knights who followed Holimion also woke up from their unconsciousness one after another, falling into a daze of recollection and thought.

They had not encountered any decent resistance in their battle with the Dwarves, which was why they were able to provide rapid support when Holimion was locked in a bitter struggle, but in the end, they were all wiped out the moment the crystal ball shattered.

Even the oldest Twilight Knight had only heard of this kind of power in family legends, and it was the exclusive domain of the Sindar Elves.

"Clear the battlefield; our mission is complete." Seeing that his companions had not suffered any injuries, Holimion casually threw away the black war hammer in his hand and issued a new order.

As for himself, he carefully observed the environment within the cave, preparing to report everything that had happened here to Allen, who was handling the aftermath in the city.

At this moment, Winterburg was in orderly chaos, with a large volume of noisy shouts rising one after another.

"Stretcher, stretcher, there is one with a broken leg here." "We need healing medicine here, is there any Miruvor left?" "Make way, make way, the wounded here need the King to treat them personally."

Unlike the noisy sounds, the doctors' rescue efforts, the transfer of the wounded, and the soldiers' protection were all very orderly, with almost no collisions occurring; everyone was completing their own work with great tacit understanding.

"For such a dangerous matter, you should have sought the help of other scholars instead of facing it alone; that was too dangerous. You should cherish your own life; at least you should have found a way to notify me before starting. The situation just now was truly too perilous; if I hadn't happened to be a guest at the Eagles' Eyrie and happened to look toward the east, I wouldn't have been able to make it here in time."

Gandalf, who was sitting next to Allen recovering his strength, spoke with a mix of reproach and concern; having just confronted Sauron, he had exhausted the vast majority of his power, and sweat had even soaked his long, gray-white beard.

Even the pipe he had already lit was only puffed on occasionally; most of the time, he was just gasping for breath.

Allen, who was sitting to the side recovering his strength, looked at the open space in the castle with lingering fear.

He had also come to a realization at this moment; after the battle at the Black Gate and the trip to Moria, he had begun to blindly trust in the abilities he possessed and had underestimated a Sauron who had lost most of his power, which was why he had ended up in such a situation today.

"Dear Gandalf, I accept your concern, because this was indeed an extremely dangerous matter, but I want to say, where is it so easy to find you or other scholars? And as the ruler of this place, I simply cannot tolerate my people suffering from dark bewitchment, not even for a single second; and the last time I tried to find you, I spent months running around Eriador."

As he spoke, Allen, who had recovered slightly, stood up, left Gandalf to his own thoughts, and walked toward a citizen who had suffered a severe head injury.

This fellow could be considered unlucky; it was not that Allen's Imperial Guard had intended to strike his head, but when the soldiers were attacked by the black smoke, their weapons had slipped from their hands due to the impact, and it just so happened to smash him, resulting in a fractured skull accompanied by a ruptured eardrum.

In this era, this was equivalent to a fatal injury; even when James was in Minas Tirith and had exchanged quite a lot of medical techniques with the local infirmary, he had no way to treat this kind of injury.

But Allen's ability could handle it; after bursts of white light, the wounded man's rapid breathing gradually steadied, and he was soon out of danger, leaving only the need for a long period of recuperation.

At this time, Allen would only step in to treat those whose injuries were severe enough to be on the verge of death.

Because he was currently holding on by sheer willpower; there were still quite a lot of citizens gathered outside the castle gates, and until everything had a result, Allen could not leave this place.

However, citizens with very serious injuries were, after all, in the minority; most of the time, Allen only needed to sit there quietly, which was enough to awe everyone present, and even the citizens standing far away just waited anxiously for the result without making a single sound.

After all, Allen had already come forward to briefly explain everything that had happened today as soon as the matter ended, and after experiencing such a terrifying event, these residents gathered at the castle gate were just silently praying that their loved ones would not suffer overly serious harm.

Not long after, James walked toward Allen with a piece of parchment; this priest, who looked much younger than when he first arrived in Middle-earth, had a look of worry on his face because the condition of the wounded was very bad.

"Allen, take a look at this." As he spoke, James handed over the filled-out parchment.

Summary and Report of the Wounded:

Five critically wounded patients on the verge of death have received the King's treatment and only need to go home to rest and recover.

Two hundred and thirty-five wounded with broken bones and severe muscle bruising but whose lives are not in danger have been properly settled and sent to the hospital for recuperation.

A number of lightly wounded, who will recover quickly after applying medicine.

Unprecedented cases, six hundred and thirty-five people.

Compared to conventional trauma, these people seem more like they have had their lives stolen; their skin has lost its luster and become pale and inelastic, their hair is far grayer than it was yesterday, as if they had suddenly aged more than ten years; some of the older wounded even have age spots appearing on their faces, and their spirits are in a daze, unable to communicate normally with others.

This is very strange, a disease that has never occurred before; I hope all the lords who see this report will give it due attention.

Author: Phoenix, recorded on the night of July 28, Third Age 2949.

Looking at the report before him and connecting it to everything that had just happened, Allen soon had his own conjecture.

It was very clear that the power Sauron used in his confrontation with him and Gandalf was not his original power, but rather that he had forcibly extracted the life force of others to display such terrifying might; as for the means, it was very likely related to those Bronze Jewelry pieces.

And Allen did not know the more critical secret, but during the First Age, Sauron, who had not yet inherited Morgoth's legacy, held the title of "Necromancer" and had once even transformed into a massive vampire.

As for how many strange and bizarre abilities the Dark Lord currently has, let alone him, even Gandalf probably couldn't say for sure.

"James, what kind of help do you need me to provide for you?"

His good friend and court Physician could not possibly have produced such a report for no reason; although the requirement that major events must be recorded was a rule Allen had set, this did not mean he needed to look at every single piece of paper documentation.

"Allen, you have seen it too; the symptoms these people are showing are very strange, but according to my observations, they should have lost too much life force. In the words of those in Gondor, it is as if they have burned out their life fire in a short period of time. If I want to cure them, I need your help—to be precise, the bottle of potion you once gave me to drink."

"Understood." Allen nodded in sudden realization; he was not a professional doctor, after all, and there were too many things to consider at this moment, so he hadn't thought of this immediately.

"Anti-Aging Potion, I do indeed have a little left, but James, if you want to supply over six hundred people, that is a completely impossible thing. Do you have any other methods?"

Even if one beat the potion-selling Phoenix to death, he could not produce over six hundred bottles of Anti-Aging Potion; although his team possessed the formula for refining the Anti-Aging Potion, their operations were extremely secretive, the output was not high, and the medicinal herbs required were also very precious.

But they did not use materials related to Elves, such as a freshly harvested Elf heart or warm Elf blood; this was something Aldaria had confirmed, because the moment the Anti-Aging Potion appeared, such rumors had been circulating on the Pendor continent.

"Allen, it is not necessary for everyone to drink a whole bottle; I know that is impossible, but the potion can be diluted. Furthermore, Beorn has already started producing a small amount of Miruvor, and then I will find some medicinal herbs beneficial to the wounded. After brewing them according to a certain ratio, the resulting concoction should be able to alleviate the symptoms of these people. However, to be safe, I need at least six bottles of the potion."

James's eyes flickered as he spoke, because he did not have one hundred percent certainty that he could achieve the effect he described, but things had to be done; kind-hearted as he was, he could not watch those six hundred-plus people die one after another.

Many of them were his neighbors, and many had greeted him in a friendly manner just yesterday; even if they were strangers, as a doctor, James would do his utmost to treat these people.

Allen, hearing that only six bottles of the potion were needed, did not hesitate for too long, because he could now get the potion from Phoenix at cost price; for this, he still needed to thank the Noldor Elves for their strong cooperation.

Because Aldaria had dispatched a "friendly" army of Cavalry, and under Allen's leadership, with a marching speed that caught them off guard, they had invited Phoenix's team to the Noldor Forest in the middle of a wasteland, and demanded they produce a batch of potions on the spot, verifying Phoenix's claim that it did not require Elf blood.

Then, this team remained in the forest; it was not that Aldaria wanted to imprison them. After confirming that these scholars had not persecuted Elves, this Warlord had lost interest in them, and instead, in a dispirited manner, let Allen send them away from the Elf forest.

If it had been the old Aldaria, he likely would have hanged these Humans, but for Allen's sake, the fierce-tempered Elf head of the house decided to spare their lives; after all, these people had been "invited" in Allen's name, which could only be described as a fantasy version of "giving face to the master for the sake of the servant."

Yet these fellows, who were capable of refining mysterious potions, actually clamored that they would not leave after seeing the Magic of Elacrai, saying things like "even if I die, I must die in the face of knowledge," looking as if they could sacrifice their lives in pursuit of Magic.

In the end, it was Allen, who had a massive demand for potions, who acted as an intermediary and spoke with the more open-minded Isilindil, finally allowing the Elves to keep these fanatical Scholars, on the condition that these Scholars needed to regularly hand over some potions or Dinar as the cost for staying within the Elf territory.

And the Elves would shelter these Scholars in the forest and, under limited circumstances, exchange some knowledge regarding Magic; these Scholars did indeed possess some things that the Noldor did not know.

As for the benefits Allen gained, besides being able to purchase precious potions at an extremely low price, his shop in Long River Town also had some additional potions as merchandise, allowing him to earn the Dinar he could never have enough of even faster.

Therefore, six bottles of magic potion were not too heavy a burden for Allen; compared to that, over six hundred healthy citizens were more important, as Rhovanion was currently in the midst of rapid development, and every single person was important.

Otherwise, Allen would not have gone to such great lengths to resolve this crisis; his population was still too small, so small that even the death of a thousand people would be an extremely serious loss.

James left, having obtained the potions with great satisfaction; he would begin his experiments overnight, and Manid, who had been waiting on the side for a long time, walked over with a Dwarf after seeing this scene.

Even though several hours had already passed, Tiehaer still wore a look of shock; he had never thought that he would bring such huge trouble to this land, he had only wanted to earn a little more money, and it just so happened that someone had asked him to sell ornaments on their behalf at an extremely low price, it was just that simple.