Chapter 275: Old Friend

The next morning, the sun rose from the east, its light crossing the high Misty Mountains and illuminating Eriador.

A few sparrows chirped on the treetops, celebrating that today was a sunny day.

Halbarad, who hadn't slept all night, stretched a big yawn, preparing to return to his tent for a nap.

This time was usually relatively safe, because those bandits who took things by force would never get up so early; they would either make trouble in the middle of the night or in the afternoon.

However, today was an exception. A long string of bandits suddenly appeared on the small path in the distance, constantly approaching the village. Halbarad's eyes were instantly filled with anger.

If it weren't for so many of his kin having gone to Annúminas, he would have led people to wipe out that bunch of low-life scum long ago!!

Now, however, he was being pestered again and again by the other side. This time, he must let them properly see the power of the Dunedain.

In his anger, the young Ranger quickly gripped his longbow and blew a loud whistle to alert his companions.

The enemy is approaching!!

But soon, the expression on Halbarad's face turned to confusion, because the state of this bunch of bandits was very strange.

The first person's hands were firmly tied with a hemp rope, with a piece of parchment sandwiched in between.

And the rope extended backward, with a blindfolded captive tied every half meter. The bandit group of dozens of people stretched for twenty or thirty meters.

Everyone, led by the leader, walked forward cautiously, fearing they would walk in the wrong direction, accidentally bump into something, and fall by the roadside.

In fact, they had already fallen four or five times this night, and each time it took a lot of time to help the fallen people up.

This journey, which usually didn't require an hour, they had set out at midnight and walked for three or four hours without sleep, finally arriving at their destination at dawn.

The bandit leader leading the team already had obvious tears in his eyes.

Having lived for so many years, he had never seen such bullying. Killing or cutting them would have been fine, but they were actually made to tie themselves up, walk the night road blindfolded, and had to arrive before dawn, otherwise none of them would live.

Moreover, they had suffered countless grievances along the way, and in the end, they had to deliver themselves to do hard labor!! He couldn't even begin to describe how aggrieved he felt.

Is this something a human would do?

No matter how angry or aggrieved he felt inside, a cheap smile still appeared on the bandit leader's face. He spoke subserviently to the young Ranger holding a longsword: "My Lord, My Lord, it was all a misunderstanding before, a misunderstanding. I have a letter here that another Lord asked me to deliver to you. Take a look, you'll know once you look."

At this moment, Halbarad's head was full of question marks. The bandit faces he remembered were basically all here, and he didn't know who had made this bunch of guys like this.

With a belly full of questions, Halbarad snatched the parchment from the bandit's hand and began to read it attentively in the sunlight.

It was written in the Common Tongue, and the handwriting was quite neat.

To the young Halbarad:

Thank you for the warm hospitality last night, young man. These bandits are my return gift. Compared to killing them, I think leaving these insignificant lives to help you build your home is more appropriate.

Additionally, please pass a message to Aragorn for me. I am very glad he listened to my advice and began making efforts for the restoration of the kingdom, but darkness is still powerful, and danger is everywhere. One should not be too hasty in doing things. Treating every decision with caution is what a qualified leader should do.

If you encounter danger, you can go to Feslate to seek help from my wife. I think she will be very happy to help.

Wishing you steadfastness and bravery in the days to come!

Allen Salian

Holding the letter in his hand, Halbarad already had some guesses in his heart, but he still dared not believe it was true.

He had received an excellent education since childhood and had a certain understanding of the successive Kings of Arnor, but he had indeed never seen a ruler who acted so uniquely as the one before him.

Who could have thought that a joke from last night would actually come true.

"Go, you scum. Today is your lucky day. We have too much work to do. If you can't finish it, you'll only have one dinner today."

Halbarad carefully tucked the letter away close to his body, then grabbed the thick rope in front of him and, in a pleasant mood, led the desperate bandits toward the village.

At least they could have peace for a while.

At this moment, Allen, gliding in the air, had already flown past the Trollshaws, leaving the Last Bridge behind him and heading toward Bree. He should be able to reach the Prancing Pony by the afternoon.

Last night, he had only rested for less than two hours before setting out in the dead of night, and soon used his abilities to find the bandits entrenched nearby.

To deal with these bullies who feared the strong and bullied the weak, Allen didn't need to teach them a lesson himself. He simply displayed the scene of wind and fire combined, and everyone was shocked into immobility, let alone resisting.

A huge tornado wrapped in flames directly destroyed the bandits' camp, and then the subsequent events happened logically. Allen didn't even stay to supervise them.

This area was an uninhabited wilderness, and there were plenty of hungry beasts entrenched in the forest. Moreover, it was autumn, the time when animals were fattening up for winter.

However, under normal circumstances, these beasts wouldn't approach places where humans frequently appeared, because most of the time, humans holding weapons were far more terrifying than beasts.

Clearly, the bandits understood this truth and obediently followed the road to find Halbarad to report, rather than choosing to take risks in the forest to escape.

In fact, Allen didn't care about the lives of these bandits. His mercy was only reserved for those who loved life. If these scum were unlucky and died, they died; it wasn't worth his time to watch over them.

He needed to hurry on his way and try to reach Hobbiton before nightfall. After all, there was still plenty of time, and he didn't need to stay in Bree to rest.

Additionally, according to Allen's orders, Holimion and the Twilight Knights should be staying temporarily at the Green Dragon Inn in Hobbiton, waiting for Allen to rendezvous with them.

This time it was a voyage by sea, and Allen didn't plan to drift on the sea alone; that was too dangerous and too torturous. Even when he went to participate in the Lonely Mountain expedition, he was with Gandalf.

The sun moved its steps as time passed, gradually sliding from the east of the Misty Mountains toward the boundless sea. The afterglow of the sunset fully displayed its beauty at this moment, dyeing patches of white clouds into brilliant rosy clouds.

And Allen finally arrived in the Shire at this moment. After landing in an uninhabited field, he dragged his exhausted body step by step toward the quiet and peaceful Hobbiton.

Long-duration flight was still a considerable burden for Allen at the moment.

During gliding, he needed to concentrate on observing the direction of the wind and constantly maintain his posture, which was not an easy thing.

Even the Great Eagles of the Misty Mountains couldn't fly for a whole day, let alone Allen, who was a human. He was still a novice who had only been flying for a few days.

In the Hobbit's territory, a Big Person who suddenly appeared would soon attract numerous eyes, and whispering was an unavoidable thing.

Only when they saw the newcomer's direction was toward Bag End, the home of the Bagginses, did these small people soon look relieved, no longer feeling surprised by this, as going home to eat and collect clothes was more important.

It was too common, really too common. Every once in a while, strangers would come to find Mr. Baggins, and everyone was used to it.

The sky darkened bit by bit, and the windows of Bag End lit up. Allen looked at the mark still present on the wooden door, smiled lightly, and rang the doorbell with a "ding-a-ling."

"Whoa! Look who's here!! My dear friend, please come in, come in quickly!!"

Bilbo, who opened the door, recognized who the newcomer was at a glance. Even after a dozen years, Allen's appearance hadn't changed in the slightest, exactly the same as when he first came to Bag End.

Well, this time he might be slightly more disheveled than before; his clothes were almost all wrinkles, covered in dust and mud splatters, and even stuck with a few withered yellow fallen leaves.

"Good evening, Mr. Bilbo." Allen laughed lightly and stepped inside.

"What would you like to drink? Tea? Honey mead? Or something stronger? I have several bottles of good wine from the Gamgee family. It's strong liquor aged for many years. I think it's time to open a bottle."

Amidst Bilbo's enthusiastic hospitality, Bag End instantly became lively. Allen carefully avoided the chandeliers and beams on the ceiling and followed the host to the dining room.

"You've come at just the right time. I just bought some very good ham. The taste is mellow and fragrant, the saltiness is just right, and it's very delicious with bread and cheese. You'll definitely like it. Should I have some pickles too? Oh, oh, I also have a fish. Should I pan-fry it or grill it? Forget it, let's stew it. My old mother used to say that a bowl of stew for a guest from afar is the most suitable gift."

"Bilbo, Bilbo, simple is fine, no need to be too troublesome."

Allen looked around, watching the books piled up everywhere in the room, and casually picked one up. It was actually a love story about Elves, with its name written in Elvish script on the cover: *The Song of Nimrodel*.

"No, no, no, it'll be ready soon. In any case, you should believe in a Hobbit's cooking. How about some sausages? I know you have a big appetite. What about dessert? Is it apple pie or sponge cake? There's even some very good blueberry jam here!!"

The Hobbit's cheerful voice came from the kitchen. The arrival of a friend made Mr. Bilbo Baggins quite happy.

"Of course I believe in your cooking, Bilbo. You arrange it; you know I'm not very picky." Allen no longer refused his friend's kindness, and he indeed needed a sumptuous dinner.

How does that old saying go? If you have a Hobbit friend, don't be polite with them regarding food; accept the enthusiasm from a gourmet.

Soon, a sumptuous dinner was placed on the table, and the amber-colored strong liquor was poured into the glasses, drunk, and then poured again.

"How long has it been since we last met, Allen? Three years, four years? I remember the last time seemed to be when a bunch of people gathered at my house. Time really flies."

Bilbo, having drunk two glasses, opened the floodgates again.

"The last while was lively. It was just two months ago, my birthday. Legolas came, Gandalf was there too, and that kid who is often with them. He calls himself Thorongil, but I know his name is Estel. You called his name the time before last; I remember. I'm not senile. But then, Legolas calls him Aragorn again. It's really strange."

Allen listened quietly to Bilbo's chatter, enjoying the delicious food. He was indeed very busy and often couldn't look after his family and friends. Not to mention anything else, he hadn't gone back for Andrea's birthday this year.

So much so that his daughter had written a letter in crooked handwriting, expressing her dissatisfaction with her father.

"Is Legolas still in Eriador?" Allen asked curiously.

How many years has the Woodland Elf Prince been out? Doesn't he go home after so long? Allen had to sweat for Thranduil—this was an empty-nester.

"That's right. He said he was helping a group of respectable people rebuild their home. The Dwarves of the Blue Mountains also come down occasionally. I also helped them once, eradicating a dark sorcerer's nest. That time was really too dangerous; there were terrifying black shadows everywhere, but an excellent burglar relied on nimble steps to slip past the enemy's eyes, destroyed his magic, and then, and then the battle was won."

As he spoke, Bilbo drank another glass, but his left hand slowly reached toward his pocket. Allen naturally knew what was there, but he didn't mention it, instead smiling and praising his friend's victory.

At this time, Bilbo had been carrying the One Ring for over a dozen years. Although the influence he received wouldn't be as serious as Gollum's, there must definitely be some. If any problems arose, Allen didn't have Gandalf's inspiring ability.

"Right, I've just been talking about my affairs. Allen, you look all dusty; you didn't come specifically to see me, did you? Need help?"

Facing Bilbo's curiosity, Allen, while eating dessert, recounted his plan to go to sea.

According to Allen's understanding, the vast majority of Hobbits didn't like taking boats, except for those living in Buckland.

But Bilbo Baggins, who had always lived in the Shire, showed great interest in going to sea. He didn't know if he was drunk or if the blood of the Took family was burning again.

In short, Allen couldn't refuse his good friend's request and finally agreed to take a Hobbit to the Grey Havens. As for whether Bilbo would go to sea when the time came, that was another matter. ===== CHAPTER 276 =====