Autumn, Year 3001 of the Third Age.
The greenery faded, and the golden color slowly crept into the peaceful Shire.
The setting sun dyed the western sky red. Sam had just finished planting the new myrtle. When he stood up, he saw Pippin and Merry hurriedly running past the fence. As they ran, they excitedly shouted, "Elven singers!"
"Where did the Elven singers come from?" Sam could not help but ask.
Life in the Shire was very monotonous. He had lived for more than thirty years and had only seen a few human singers, let alone an Elven singer.
Pippin slowed down his pace, but continued to pull Merry forward. As they ran, he quickly said, "Two wandering bards have come to the Green Dragon Tavern. Although their attire is strange, they are very knowledgeable. They can sing any song, tell any story, and sing very well.
I think they are the best singers in the world.
When the hooded woman sang 'Lucian's Song,' Mary and Rose both cried. I couldn't understand it, but I couldn't help but cry. "
"I don't believe you will cry," Merry said doubtfully.
"It's true. They only sing a song for a gold coin. You won't hear it if you're late. If it weren't for this rare opportunity, I wouldn't have left the tavern to find you … "
Pippin's figure and voice gradually faded away. Sam wiped the sweat off his forehead and hurriedly carried his farming tools into the hole at the bottom of the sack.
"Master Birbo, the myrtle has been planted. I'll go back now."
Birbo answered casually. The door of the bedroom next door opened, and Frodo poked his head out. He asked curiously, "I heard Pippin say that two bards came to the Green Dragon Tavern?"
"Yes. Master Frodo, do you want to go and take a look? No Elven singers have ever come to the Shire. "
Sam bowed respectfully.
Hobbits were quiet, but it did not mean that they did not distinguish between rich and poor.
Frodo was interested. "Uncle Birbo, an Elven singer came to the Green Dragon Tavern. I haven't seen an Elf before. Don't wait for me for dinner."
"The elven singer's story might not be as interesting as mine …" Old Birbo muttered softly as he stared at an old map of the north in a daze. Meanwhile, Frodo and Sam had already run out of the outer courtyard.
.....
"Although the stories of the Ancient Era's Elves are marvelous, they are too distant from us. I want to hear the story of the Berserk Ice Axe."
As soon as Sam opened the tavern door, he heard Red Beard Hank shouting.
The tavern was full of Hobbits, and they were all looking at the southwest corner.
The two bards were very conspicuous among the Hobbits. One of them was a mysterious man with a hood covering his face, and the other was a tall old elf with white hair and a face full of sorrow.
"Ice Axe? Could it be the King of the Dwarves of Moria, Tyrion? "Frodo asked excitedly.
Sam said uncertainly, "Maybe."
The Hobbits of the Shire rarely paid attention to the outside world, but the Dwarven King was too famous. He was the most famous, legendary, and greatest Dwarven hero in the past two hundred years … Well, although he was a half-human.
Especially since he was a half-human, it made him feel more like a Hobbit. The Shire had many idols, such as Master Frodo.
To be honest, when Sam was a child, he used to hold a wooden axe and growl in a low voice, "Azog, your head is only fit to be my chamber pot!"
Or, "Turin's nemesis, I swear to the Gods that one day, I'll be your nemesis!"
Or, "Hahahaha, Turin's nemesis, the bloody light of the Eye of Angorian that shrouds you will be my banner of victory!"
Or, "Smaug, my axe is thirsty for blood!"
Or …
"There are many stories about the King of the Dwarves, Tyrion. Which one do you want to hear?" The hooded woman's pleasant voice pulled Sam out of his memories.
"I want to hear the story of the King of the Dwarves fighting against Turin's nemesis."
"Did the King of the Dwarves really use Azog's head as a chamber pot? Will you leak your urine? "
"I want to hear about the Battle of the Dragon Slayer!"
The tavern immediately became noisy. Many fat Hobbits who were less than ninety centimeters tall slammed the table, knocked on the wine glasses, and stomped their feet.
"I'll tell the story to the one who pays," the hooded woman laughed.
"One gold coin is too expensive," the fat Hobbits whined.
Master Frodo was rich. He threw a gold coin from afar and shouted, "Is Turin's nemesis dead or not? Did Tyrion fulfill his promise? I've heard many different stories, and the ending is different. "
Sam did not see what the hooded woman did, and the gold coin disappeared.
"Gondor's White Town was not built in a day, and Turin's nemesis was not defeated in a single battle.
Starting from the battle of Dark Creek Valley and killing Azog, Tyrion conquered Turin's nemesis fifteen times in the next one hundred and fifty years! "
"Ah, fifteen times!" The Hobbits all covered their mouths and exclaimed.
"Outside the East Gate of Moria is the Dark Creek Valley, a fertile land. Tyrion set his capital in the valley and found a small mountain nearby as a mining area for the Dwarves.
After ten years of hard work, he led the fully armed Dwarves into the depths of Moria and alerted the underground demons. Boom! "
The hooded woman waved her hand, and a cloud of colorful smoke exploded and filled the tavern hall. A picture appeared in front of the fat Hobbits.
"Roar!" The Balrog bellowed angrily.
"Ah!" The Hobbits screamed, and their faces turned pale.
"Run, the demons are coming!" Fat Sam grabbed Master Frodo and was about to run out of the tavern.
But when he turned, the Balrog also turned. It was still in front of him, roaring ferociously.
"Ahhh!" Fat Sam fell to the ground.
His sister Mary pulled him and whispered, "Don't run. This is the poem of the first poet."
"What?" Sam was confused.
"Look at Master Frodo … Calm down and listen carefully," Mary said.
Sam glanced at Frodo. Frodo's eyes were blank, but there was a shocked expression on his face.
Gradually, after calming down, Sam heard the hooded poet's voice again.
He had never heard such a melodious, mellow, and emotional song. It seemed that there were also many musical instruments mixed in. When he heard the music, his mind couldn't help but picture scrolls, as if he was in the real world.
It was the first time he saw the real face of Turin's nemesis. It was terrifying.
It was the first time he saw the battle of the Frost Axe. It was terrifying.
A 1.2-meter-tall half-human and an eight-meter-tall Flame Demon were moving back and forth on the narrow path. On both sides of them were bottomless cliffs … Sam's legs turned to jelly.
Defeated!
The Dwarven King's armor was shattered by the Flame Whip. The Frost Axe was broken. His body was charred black, and white smoke came out of his mouth. He was carried out of Moria by the defeated Dwarven Warriors.
"I swear, I will be back!" The Dwarven King's resolute eyes moved Sam.
The song became lively, and the picture sped up. Sam saw how the Dwarven King trained hard for ten years.
The second expedition began …
The third time, the fourth time …
Unlike the heroes in the other stories, the Dwarven King kept fighting. He was never discouraged and never gave up. Even the most serious injuries could not shake his fighting spirit.
When the Dwarven King and his brothers chopped off the Flame Demon's head for the fifteenth time, Sam's eyes were filled with tears. He felt satisfied and carefree.
"This is a real hero with blood and tears!" Sam heard Frodo sobbing.
"How is it? I was right, wasn't I?" Pippin said proudly.
"She is indeed the best bard in the world. I have never seen anyone stronger than her," Merry said excitedly.
"But it is a little expensive. I want to hear more …" He touched the few copper coins in his pocket and looked at Frodo longingly.
Frodo was indeed a master. He immediately threw out another gold coin. "I want to hear the story of the dragon slaying on the lonely mountain!"
Sam's eyes widened. He still could not see how the gold coin was taken away.
Soon, the music started. He was subconsciously immersed in the story.
"Ah, Master Birbo!" Sam saw his employer in the music that was as clear as the flowing water of an icy spring.
Although he was not younger, the expression on his face and eyes were obviously more immature.
He remembered.
Sixty years ago, Old Bilbo had experienced an unexpected but fantastic journey.
"So he followed the dwarves to slay the dragon in the lonely mountain. How brave!" Sam exclaimed.
.....
Moria was Tyrion's capital. Thorin's kingdom was in the lonely mountain. There was not a moment when he did not want to go back to his hometown … although Moria was the real ancestral land of the Turin Dwarves.
But what his younger brother said made sense. If they could not even defeat Turin's nemesis, how could they defeat the Demon Dragon Smaug?
In fact, it was hard to tell who was stronger between the Demon Dragon and the Flame Demon without fighting.
But for the dwarves, Smaug could fly. If they lost the battle, they could not even escape.
Tyrion lost fourteen battles against the Flame Demon. But every time, he could escape unscathed without losing too many soldiers. Because the Flame Demon did not dare to chase them out of the cave and would not even stray too far from the deep pit, the dwarves could easily set up traps and narrow escape routes.
When Tyrion Cold Axe Turin chopped off the Flame Demon's head, the Turin Royal Family officially started the "Lonely Mountain Strategy".
Tyrion's initial idea was to use the Blood Witchcraft to extract the power of the Flame Demon's corpse and cultivate the fire-elemental Witchcraft Secret Book.
While cultivating the Divine Fire Technique, he would choose the dwarven Divine Craftsmen to create a batch of Dragon Slaying Equipment. For example, the iron mask used by the ancient dwarves to fight against Glaurung.
Then, he would send messengers to Long River Town to form an alliance with the humans there and provide funds to arm the humans.
Finally, the dwarves would send out their troops in autumn. After arriving at Long Lake Town, they would train the "Dragon Slaying Formation" with the humans while waiting for the day of heavy snow in winter.
Ambushing Smaug in the coldest weather.
The right time, the right place, and the right people. Not only were Thorin, Selein, and the other Turin Dwarves convinced, even the visiting White Way Association member, Gandalf the Grey, was full of praise for the Half-Human King's wisdom.
Well, Tyrion had just "snatched" Gandalf's "Monster" (PS) when Gandalf came over and invited the Dwarf King to once again be a temporary member of the White Way Association.
Gandalf could not be blamed for being snobbish. The White Way Association was a public welfare organization. There was only effort and no return. Previously, the dwarves could not even take care of themselves and were indeed unable to take out more resources to protect world peace.
"What kind of technique are you preparing to cultivate?" Gandalf sized up the half-human on the throne with a scrutinizing gaze.
Seeing that the face that was as ugly as the other half-humans did not show the usual ruthlessness and irritation of those who cultivated Witchcraft, the wizard was slightly relieved.
It had been three thousand years since Søren spread the Witchcraft Technique among the Dans on a large scale. Witchcraft cultivation had become the norm among humans. Gandalf was already used to it.
"All Witchcraft Secret Books are not divided into high and low levels because the final power is almost equal. Therefore, I plan to cultivate the "Fiery Palm" that can be found on the streets, "Tyrion said.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
