Chapter 281: Preparation

The biting cold wind blew over the summit of Mount Gundabad, carrying the newly fallen snow to further places.

Winter had come.

The North in this season was extremely cruel. It only took a few days for the Grey Mountains to be covered in white frost, and the surface of the Greyflood, which flowed endlessly all year round, was frozen with a layer of thick, hard ice.

Under such a severe environment, all things began to wither. Even the small shrubs with extremely tenacious vitality began to show signs of withering, allowing more nutrients to be retained in the roots, waiting for the prosperous growth after the temperature turned warm next year.

However, the tenacious Durin Dwarves were working in full swing outside the holy land hall against the cold wind.

They weren't like humans, who could only hide in houses to roast fire most of the time, and could only come out to help for a while at noon when it was warmest.

The Dwarves shouted deafening slogans to lift large rocks, repairing the gaps smashed by the catapults. The Dwarf engineer directing the clansmen looked coldly at the city wall built by the Goblins, his eyes full of disdain.

It was just that there wasn't enough time, otherwise he would definitely make a suggestion to the King under the Mountain to let the garbage in front of him collapse immediately, and then let him lead the reconstruction of the defense works.

Of course, Thorin, who had received the news from Gandalf, indeed knew that the dragons didn't have much time left for him.

Just yesterday, his Wizard friend appeared in an extremely disheveled posture—clothes messy, face withered, spirit listless, even his beloved Old Toby couldn't clear away this decadence.

"The footsteps of Sauron's messengers cover half of the Northern Wasteland. They visited at least four dragons. Thorin, I don't know how many big worms have agreed to the enemy's invitation. I just hope you can make preparations for evacuation, rather than leading your clansmen to die here."

Gandalf wasn't particularly optimistic about this battle. If Dwarves wanted to resist the dragons head-on, even if they were facing relatively low-level Cold Dragons, they had to pay a huge price. The gap in individual strength was simply too large, and this couldn't be leveled by relying on some machinery.

In his view, this wasn't a battle that must be fought. The Durin clan had already found the lost kingdom, life could be said to be peaceful and contented, everything was moving in a good direction, and the Order faction had also firmly nailed a nail in the North.

There was really no need to break this hard-won peace.

But the stubbornness of Dwarves would never let this old man "disappoint." This was a race with a fiery temper and tenacious determination. Even if he guessed, he could guess the result.

"Gandalf, I won't be scared away by the enemy so easily. Today, I can leave the holy land I regained, then tomorrow when the dragons attack Erebor, do I have to lead my clansmen to leave again? Where to? Return to the Ered Luin again?"

Thorin's eyes were full of stubbornness, mixed with a trace of hatred. The white air exhaled from his mouth soon dyed his beard with white frost.

The damage caused by dragons to Dwarves was simply too much. The Durin clan lost their home twice, all because of these hateful crawling insects.

Facing Thorin's questioning, Gandalf sucked on his pipe fiercely. Even though he was famous for his eloquence, he didn't know how to answer this question at this moment.

Resistance was always the most important means to resist evil. The enemy would never become kind because of your weakness; instead, they would become worse and worse, forcing you to a point where you couldn't retreat.

Since that was the case, Thorin's choice wasn't wrong.

Why not choose to resist when the Dwarves still had the ability?

Finally, Gandalf could only exhale a few smoke rings helplessly, looking at the weapons on the city wall prepared to deal with the dragons.

That was a heavy crossbow that was exaggeratedly large. He had seen the power of this weapon during the Battle of the Lonely Mountain.

Seeing those crossbow bolts spinning in the air like shields, Gandalf could conclude that they were used to deal with Elves.

It was just the sudden arrival of Goblins that made Elves and Dwarves temporarily join forces to fight against the common enemy, and finally the past hatred between the two races was also resolved in fighting side by side.

Gandalf, who learned everything at the time, breathed a huge sigh of relief. He didn't want to see Elves and Dwarves fighting each other every day either.

It was just that could the weapons originally used to deal with Elves really play a role against dragons? Gandalf felt suspicious in his heart.

Under this old man's scrutinizing gaze, a black dot suddenly crossed the corner of his eye from the southwest.

Gandalf focused his gaze, and his sharp eyes allowed him to see clearly what was flying in the sky, and also made his weather-beaten face appear extremely shocked.

Soon, the black dot grew rapidly, and with lightning speed, it fell onto the city wall with a "thud." The guards holding bows and arrows looked at the suddenly appeared familiar figure in a daze, not knowing what had happened.

"Allen?"

Thorin asked in surprise.

Although puzzled, the King under the Mountain didn't ask why his friend could fly in the sky.

Can release fire, can release electricity, and can also rain to treat wounds, now suddenly can fly, it seems, it seems there is nothing to be surprised about?

As if!!

Not being surprised would be the real strange thing, but Thorin wasn't willing to dig into his friend's privacy, such as how Bilbo rescued him and other expedition members in the prison.

Why Gandalf's sword would fly out and fly back by itself.

There were too many magical powers in this world, Thorin wouldn't ask, and didn't want to ask.

What he had to ensure was that his friend could stand on his side at a critical moment.

"It's me."

Allen's voice sounded a bit weak. After resting slightly in the Ettenmoors, he had used all his strength to fly rapidly in the air, even leaving the cawing Tac behind. At this moment, he was already exhausted.

"How much longer will those crawling insects arrive? By the way, find someone to get me a bowl of hot soup. This ghost weather is really annoying."

The closer to the North, the colder the air became, especially at night. Allen flying near Mount Gundabad could be considered to have suffered quite a bit, plus the Qi in his body had been consumed seven or eight out of ten.

This made his body, which could be considered cold and heat resistant, feel the feeling of ice for the first time in a long time.

This taste wasn't good for anyone.

"Quick, quick, quick, let's stay in a warm place for a while. This bit of time is still quite sufficient."

Gandalf pulled Allen toward a nearby tower. There was a warm fireplace and soup medicine to warm the body. The conversation that followed needed a suitable place.

The fire-red light illuminated the entire room, and the thick cotton cloth also blocked the cold air that made people shiver.

In such a warm environment, plus a bowl of hot soup with spicy seasonings, Allen's body temperature soon recovered, it was just that his spirit was still slightly listless.

The conversation between the three also officially began at this moment.

First, Gandalf briefly recounted what he saw and heard in the Northern Wasteland.

That was a vast ice field where snow never stopped and it was extremely cold, even the monsters ridden by the Nazgul couldn't fly freely there.

Or rather, it was precisely because the monster couldn't fly freely that Gandalf could follow that dark shadow and measure half of the Northern Wasteland with his feet.

Those dragons with huge bodies and teeth like knives lived in the hills there. He saw with his own eyes the scene of the meeting between the two sides.

Gandalf didn't get too close, because he was worried that his tracks would be discovered by the enemy, so he couldn't hear what conditions the black shadow gave.

But the dragon's voice was huge. In order to show off its power, that roar like thunder was enough to penetrate the howling wind and snow.

"At least two crawling insects are very satisfied with the conditions offered by Mordor. The other two didn't give a clear answer. In the worst case, we have to face four huge monsters, and at best, there must be two."

Gandalf's face was serious, to show that the information he provided was by no means a joke. If these two kings entrenched in the North insisted on not leaving, then they had to prepare for a great battle.

"Perhaps I have some ways to deal with those dragons."

Allen, who put down the soup bowl, drew Ringil out. The dazzling cold light covered the fire at this moment, and the cold sword body drew an arc like a meteor.

"This sword?! Allen, my friend, your trip can be said to be fruitful."

Even though he didn't know enough about swords, Gandalf could see the extraordinary nature of Ringil, and he had a trace of familiarity with this sword. In those blurry dreams, he seemed to have seen this sword.

It was just that Gandalf himself didn't dare to be sure whether this feeling was real.

And Thorin, who had some research on weapons, was already a bit infatuated at this moment. According to the craftsmanship mastered by the Durin Dwarves at this time, they definitely couldn't forge such an amazing sword.

However, the King under the Mountain's eyes soon returned to clarity. If possible, he would like to study the craftsmanship hidden inside.

Subsequently, Allen recounted the process of encountering the sea serpent and executing it, which made Gandalf and Thorin exclaim again and again.

"Looking at it this way, this sword might play a key role in the next battle."

Having drifted in Middle-earth for thousands of years, Gandalf was still familiar with the creatures in various places, and could be considered to have read quite a few classics.

He had some understanding of creatures like sea serpents. Although the scales on the surface of the body were more dense, they were also as hard as steel, fearless of ordinary weapons.

"You returned very quickly, so there is still a little time. Those greedy dragons, even for the sake of distributing benefits, will have to quarrel for several days. Now, you should rest well, and then meet with your subordinates."

After increasing the chips to deal with the dragons, a relieved look clearly appeared on Gandalf's face.

"Don't rush." Allen nodded to indicate he knew, then turned his head and said to Thorin: "Did you bring any mithril powder on this trip?"

"No, only brought some mithril ingots." Thorin shook his head.

"However, there are ready-made furnaces and materials here. Give me some time, and I can forge a lot."

As early as the Second Age, Mount Gundabad was an important place for the Angmar dynasty. After Azog became the Goblin commander, he treated this place as the capital.

So, there was no shortage of facilities for forging weapons and equipment.

"Good, I need about fifty grams of mithril powder to prepare Ithildin, used to enchant the ammunition for those heavy crossbows. This can effectively increase their penetration. Our time should be quite sufficient. We can do as much preparation as we can."

Allen intended to use the runes engraved on the Noldor rune arrows to increase the lethality of the heavy crossbows against dragons.

If he only relied on ordinary steel arrowheads, it would be very difficult to break through the dragon's defense, and adding enchantment should be much better.

Whether it was Bard or Allen, the advantage they relied on to kill Smaug in Lake-town was actually an information gap.

Knowing the dragon's weakness in advance, and then taking advantage of the unpreparedness to complete the feat of dragon-slaying quickly. If the time dragged on for too long, letting Smaug notice, then everyone would die that night.

Now, what they had to deal with were completely unfamiliar dragons. What abilities did they have? Could they use magic? It could be said to be completely unknown.

The only thing that could bring a trace of comfort was that Ringil's sword edge was enough to break the dragon's defense.

It was just that this was far from enough. Dragons wouldn't stand there honestly and let you hack, so Allen needed some help to distract their attention.

Therefore, the higher the damage of those heavy crossbows, the better.

"Good, I'll give it to you by evening." Thorin nodded and walked out of the tower quickly.

Allen watched Thorin leave, raised his hand to pull a warm and comfortable wool blanket from his side, and covered himself with it casually.

After nodding to Gandalf to indicate, he fell into a deep sleep with the warmth emitted by the fireplace.

This sleep didn't end until the sky was getting dark. Allen woke up and smelled the aroma of hot soup, while Alayen had been waiting in this tower for a long time.

"My Lord, have a wash and then eat." Seeing Allen wake up, Alayen hurried over to bring washing supplies.

"I heard from Tac that you have something to find me?" Allen asked casually after washing up.

"Yes, My Lord!"

What Alayen wanted to report was about the Nazgul. That was how Gandalf described that black shadow.

When they defeated that batch of enemies, there were subsequent Goblin troops that wanted to support Mount Gundabad. Although they were intercepted one by one, there was no figure of the Nazgul inside.

When Alayen pursued the enemy, he clearly saw that black shadow lead the routed army to hide in the Ettenmoors. According to common sense, the other party should have gathered troops to continue supporting from other directions.

However, no, that black shadow only appeared once, and then there was no trace at all.

"It wouldn't be sent to deal with Aragorn, would it?"

Allen, who was drinking soup, had some ideas in his heart.

A short while ago, he had just encountered the village newly built by the Northern Rangers. Such things might have been passed to Mordor long ago.

After all, there were many humans with ugly appearances staying in Bree, which were the sources of news for the dark world.

Sauron wouldn't watch the Kingdom of Arnor revive. He would rather press this spark to death in the bud.

If he thought this way, then the army that risked huge consumption to go to Dol Guldur, and the Nazgul who disappeared in the Ettenmoors, seemed to have a reasonable explanation.

Allen naturally couldn't watch Sauron do whatever he wanted, but his top priority at the moment was to handle the affairs of Mount Gundabad well.

"Hmm, I know." ===== CHAPTER 282 =====