Chapter 285: Peace

Ever since the Dwarves of Durin reclaimed Mount Gundabad, Rhovanion had been peaceful for a very, very long time.

Long enough for King Fengel of Rohan to close his eyes peacefully in the Golden Hall, for Theoden to wear the crown amidst the cheers of all the Rohirrim, and for Allen to witness this scene with his wife.

Long enough for Allen's daughter, the Princess of the Kingdom of Rhovanion, Andrea, to be able to play in the garden with her younger brother.

Yes, Yamila had given birth to a prince for Allen, named Albert. From the moment of his birth, this baby, still in swaddling clothes, had become the first heir to the Kingdom of Rhovanion.

Long enough for Aragorn to lead his people, in the constant struggle against dark forces, to rebuild Annúminas, the capital that had once belonged to the Kingdom of Arnor.

On the shores of the once desolate Twilight Lake, villages, fields, orchards, and warehouses appeared once again. Under the brilliant sun, ships with white sails raised shuttled back and forth on the lake, and the docks on the shore were exceptionally lively.

Of course, the rebuilding of Annúminas could not be separated from the help of various rulers such as Allen, Thorin, Cirdan, and Elrond.

Moreover, Aragorn had also successfully recovered the jurisdiction of Bree. This young king was growing fast, and the power he controlled was changing with each passing day.

Long enough for the days belonging to Thorin II, King under the Mountain, to finally come to an end. Before his life was about to pass away, he did not invite many people, but sent an invitation to Allen alone.

Because others were unlikely to make it to the funeral.

As his good friend lay dying on his bed, Allen, with a grave face, picked up Ringil, which had not shown its edge for several years, and broke into Moria, which was still shrouded in evil, all by himself.

After countless taunts, that demon known as "Durin's Bane," covered in flames and thick smoke, appeared before Allen again.

But this time, this Balrog from Udun had lost its former arrogance. Instead, after seeing Allen, it turned and fled, with no intention of staying to fight.

Because it recognized Ringil, recognized the Elven sword that had once wounded the Dark Lord. From this moment on, it was filled with fear and jumped into the dark abyss without the slightest hesitation.

Allen summoned a gale and chased after it. At this time, he was even more powerful than when he had slain the white dragon Serar, and he had a deep understanding of the various abilities he possessed, using them more and more skillfully.

Now, his good friend's life was hanging by a thread. Even if it was to let Thorin return to Khazad-dum before he died, Allen had no reason to let this demon go.

The Balrog, covered in flames, fell downward for a long time. It did not expect the opponent to jump down after it without hesitation.

In surprise, it kept summoning whips wrapped in flames, lashing at the human who was also falling downward. The firelight drove away the darkness, but the whip strikes were dodged by the opponent one by one.

At this moment, it truly saw clearly that the human who was chasing relentlessly was not falling, but flying in the air.

Most importantly, the distance between the two sides was getting closer and closer. The cold light emitted by Ringil even stung its orange-yellow eyes, and an irrepressible despair surged from the depths of the demon's heart.

Under the threat of death, the flames on the Balrog burned fiercely, and a pair of flaming wings wrapped in thick smoke suddenly appeared. The scorching temperature rolled toward Allen, who was falling rapidly, forcing him to adjust his posture to dodge this attack, which was comparable to a dragon's breath.

"Clatter."

A sound of rock shattering appeared abruptly in the deep, dark abyss. After the flames subsided and the thick smoke dissipated, Allen's eyes, which were still bright in the darkness, had long since lost any trace of the target.

This cowardly and despicable fellow had extinguished the flames on its body and, relying on its pitch-black skin and its knowledge of the Moria abyss, quietly hid, hiding in the cracks that were everywhere around.

For a time, Allen, looking around, found nothing, and the gale swirling around him also made him unable to detect the opponent's movements.

Finally, Allen had to stay on a rock protruding from the cliff, calm his mind, and listen carefully.

Heartbeats, breathing, and the faint rustling sound of something unknown. It just didn't belong to the Balrog, as such a massive body couldn't make such a small movement.

The two sides stalemated like this for a long time, until a rough, muffled breathing sound came from not far away. Allen once again carried Ringil and chased after it quickly.

Then, firelight and sword light flashed continuously in the pitch-black abyss. The Balrog, while conjuring various flame weapons to attack Allen, walked toward the depths of the darkness with its thick legs, fleeing continuously.

Allen didn't know how long he had been chasing, nor did he know how deep he had reached. He only knew that when he followed the Balrog's figure down a flight of stairs, his vision suddenly opened up, and a large underground lake jumped into view.

At this time, the Balrog was standing by the lake. It could be said that it had been forced into a dead end. If it dared to go into the water, it would definitely die faster.

That strong black figure seemed to understand its situation at this time and finally chose not to continue fleeing. Its left hand gripped a whip full of firelight, and its raised right hand pulled a giant hammer made entirely of flames from the void.

"Bang~!"

Brilliant firelight splashed everywhere with the swing of the giant hammer, illuminating the dark underground and also seeming to alarm something. The water surface became no longer calm.

At this moment, a silver-white lightning bolt broke through the flames and instantly hit the furiously roaring Balrog. A sword light flashed, slashing toward the Balrog's right hand holding the giant hammer.

Allen knew that the Balrog was not as easy to deal with as a cold dragon, and this fellow's neck was extremely thick and protected by two huge downward-curving horns. Wanting to behead it directly was extremely difficult, so it was better to break its arms first.

The Balrog, with lightning flashing all over its body, struggled to dodge in its paralysis. Although it escaped the fate of a broken arm, it still suffered extremely serious injuries.

However, its misfortune did not end there. Attacks from someone or some creature followed.

The water surface, which was not so calm to begin with, exploded. A large amount of cold lake water extinguished the raging flames on the Balrog's body, making it pitch-black and slippery.

Immediately, countless black shadows rushed out from the water. They were pale green, long, curled tentacles that emitted a faint light. As soon as they appeared, they wrapped around the Balrog, which was extremely miserable at this time, and kept pulling its nearly five-meter-tall body into the water.

The demon, suddenly suffering this attack, began to struggle desperately. The roaring sound echoed continuously in the deep underground, filled with unwillingness and resentment, but then it became shrill, because it saw a sword light as dazzling as cold ice sweeping toward its neck.

But its hands and feet were firmly bound by the tentacles from the water, unable to move at all.

"Splash."

A huge pitch-black head fell into the water, with only two hideous curved horns exposed a little bit on the water surface, while the Balrog's pitch-black body was quickly dragged into the deep water, and soon there was no movement.

Allen, having succeeded in one strike, waited for a very long time at a high place, until silence occupied this area again, leaving only faint breathing and strong, powerful heartbeats. He then slowly walked to the water's edge and fished up the Balrog's head.

Just looking at the trophy, which was more than a meter high, he was in a bit of a dilemma. With his current strength, it was difficult for Allen to fly out of the abyss carrying this thing. Even if he could, it would take too much time, and Thorin might not be able to wait for his return before being buried.

Finally, Allen could only settle for the next best thing and remove the two curved giant horns as trophies to prove the death of "Durin's Bane."

Three days later, when Allen carried the two huge curved horns to Thorin's bedside, the King under the Mountain, who was nearly at his end, was much more spirited and issued many orders in a loud voice.

He forced Fili, who was still the crown prince, to lead the Dwarf army toward Moria. The long-cherished wish to recover Khazad-dum must not be delayed.

The Balrog was already dead, and the Orcs entrenched in that area were basically nothing. Moreover, Allen's territory was right next to it, so there was no need to worry about supplies and support.

"Thorin, don't you want to lead the troops into Moria yourself?"

Regarding Thorin's actions, Allen had some guesses, but he still wanted to try to persuade his good friend.

"Allen, you clearly know that Fili needs such glory, why ask me again? I have spent most of my life leading my people in displacement, settling in the Blue Mountains, wanting to make their lives better, and it was only at the very last moment of my life that I reclaimed the lost homeland and rebuilt the abandoned holy land. I have done enough, and I don't care about one more or one less thing."

Thorin's voice was weak again at this time, but his eyes were full of relief and joy.

"Allen, how fortunate I am to have met you in that small inn in Bree, and I sincerely thank you for your help to me and to the line of Durin. It wasn't easy to tolerate my temper, was it? Now I am leaving, and the remaining things will have to be completed by the younger generation. I am tired, and it is time to rest."

Just like that, Thorin II, grandson of Thror, son of Thrain, the former Oakenshield, the current King under the Mountain and Lord of Durin, who had fought for his people all his life, closed his eyes forever under the gaze of his good friend and slept forever in the halls of his Kingdom of Erebor.

Allen, sitting by the bed, was silent for a long time, followed by a deep sigh. The sigh was full of helplessness, sadness, and a memory that could not be told to others.

Until now, he still couldn't figure out why Thorin's lifespan was so short, and this stubborn fellow had even refused to take the "Elixir of Life."

Regardless of whether the medicine was effective for Dwarves, Thorin was unwilling to even try, and Allen was helpless about this.

Was he supposed to pry open his mouth and force it down?

From that time on, sorrow shrouded all of Erebor. Thorin's body was buried deep in the mountain, and the "Arkenstone," symbol of the King under the Mountain, was placed on his chest, forever accompanying its last master.

As for the Elven sword Orcrist, which was obtained during the expedition, it was inherited by Fili, accompanying its new master to fight the Orcs in Moria.

After attending the funeral, Allen returned to Rhovanion and did not pay attention to the news of the Dwarves for a long time.

Until one day, a gold-stamped invitation was sent to the King's desk, and Allen only then learned that the Dwarves had successfully recovered Moria.

In the witness of many clansmen and allies, Fili was crowned personally by Thrain II, who walked out of the Golden Wood, inherited Thorin's throne, and became the new King of Durin. He led most of the Dwarves to begin rebuilding Khazad-dum.

Dwarves who heard the news rushed from all over Middle-earth, returning to the most brilliant city of the line of Durin, adding bricks and tiles to the renewed prosperity of this underground kingdom.

Fili handed over Erebor and the Iron Hills to Dain Ironfoot to manage, while the Grey Mountains and Mount Gundabad were handed over to Balin to manage.

The once dark and gloomy Moria was once again shrouded in brilliant lights, and beautiful music echoed in the bustling halls, celebrating the victory belonging to the Dwarves.

After the ceremony ended, Fili and Allen talked for a long time. This young king was different from his uncle, at least not as stubborn and sensitive as his uncle.

Allen gave the young king many suggestions, such as getting along well with the Lady of the Golden Wood, who was one of the few wise and powerful people in Middle-earth.

For example, he could let his clansmen undertake more engineering projects from the human world, instead of forging iron in the deep mountains every day. Gondor hadn't seen a Dwarf for I don't know how many years.

For example, urge the young Dwarves to marry and have children more, so as not to let the line of Durin disappear in the near future.

However, the most important one was to restrain his clansmen from digging downward desperately for True Silver.

Not to mention the Watcher in the Water he happened to encounter when fighting the Balrog, even the Nameless Things that had existed for I don't know how many years might not be something the Dwarves could solve.

These monsters, which even Allen didn't know much about, were not necessarily weaker than the Balrog.

If there was Mithril, this precious mineral, to dig, then dig it; if not, then look for other mineral veins. The Misty Mountains were so big, there would definitely be no lack of other wealth.

If it really didn't work, Allen also recommended the Glittering Caves under the White Mountains. He felt that Gloin was a very good candidate and could consider leading a colonial team there to create a new career.

Anyway, the Rohirrim only cared about the horses galloping on the grasslands most of the time. Having a group of Dwarves who could help these brave riders update their equipment and strengthen city defense was also a good thing.

Fili, wearing the crown, readily accepted Allen's proposal. At the same time, he hoped that the line of Durin could still maintain an alliance with the Kingdom of Rhovanion, communicate with each other in commerce, strengthen exchanges, and cope with the retaliation that might come from dark forces at any time.

Allen naturally had no reason to refuse. Soon, he returned to Fislate from Khazad-dum, continuing his relatively peaceful life. ===== CHAPTER 286 =====