Bear School Astartes

Chapter 1084 - 1066: Beastmen and Long Lake

Durin’s Day was approaching, and the urgency among the Dwarves was increasing, as this was their only chance to enter the Kingdom of the Lonely Mountain through the secret door, unknown to Smaug.

But while the Dwarves’ urgency grew, the Orcs felt even more pressing urgency.

The afternoon was drawing to a close, and the sun had reached a place in the sky that could be described as setting.

Golden-red light shone on the Long Lake, creating a glimmering effect that seemed to bring some warmth, but in fact, the temperature was colder than in the afternoon.

Mists began to rise again over the lake surface.

These cold mists would gradually become thicker and denser at night.

At the edge of the Dark Forest, a large group of Orcs was moving along the waterline from the edge of the Long Lake towards the wooden bridge connected to the town of Long Lake and the shore.

A tall Orc, holding a vicious Page Hammer, walked in front.

His head was deformed in outline, with a deep gash on the skull, crudely covered with iron.

A scar covered one eye, which had turned white and was clearly useless, leaving only one eye with an almond-yellow pupil.

Roughly embedded in his body were many iron plates, slanted into his ribs and the flesh of his back, serving as protective armor.

It’s hard to imagine that anyone could survive such crude methods.

"The Dwarves have only one place to go, they are cold and hungry, without weapons or armor now."

The Orc stood on a large rock under the setting sun, gazing at the town built on the giant rocks in the middle of the lake, a cruel grin on his lips, revealing uneven black teeth.

He raised the hand holding the vicious Page Hammer, and the line immediately stopped.

Within the ranks, the wargs let out a growl of discomfort as they halted.

They are allies of the Orcs, holding higher status than ordinary Orcs, even above the Orc riders on their backs.

If there was a shortage of food, they could eat Orcs to stave off hunger.

This was how Orc armies typically solved supply issues when going to war.

"Split up."

He commanded, and the Orcs behind him began to move slowly and quietly.

"Half of you block that bridge, the wargs cross the water to approach the town, and twenty of you with lighter steps follow me quietly inside."

The Orc said, licking the corner of his mouth.

The wargs, wild and unruly, with more autonomy, if let directly into the town, would likely seize the chance to start eating.

So this Orc leader only took those he’d fingered to go in first.

"We’ll go via the rooftops to confirm if those Dwarves are there. If we find them, then everyone..."

He surveyed the area with his one eye.

"We’ll charge in together and make sure nothing inside survives!"

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Nightfall descended slowly, the light of stars and the moon replacing the sun, enveloping the land and hills.

Bard returned about half an hour later, just as hurried as before.

He slammed open his front door, glanced around after catching his breath, and quickly ran to Lann, grabbing his shoulders as he sat.

"No! We can’t let those Dwarves go to the Lonely Mountain!"

The Demon Hunter furrowed his brow slightly, looking at the human before him, who he had felt was not simple when they first met.

But before Lann could speak, the Dwarves responded first.

"What do you mean by that?"

Philipp, who had been caring for his injured brother by the window, stood and retorted.

Qi Li’s injuries were worsening rather than improving, giving frequent painful groans, with a lot of cold sweat causing his hair to cling to his forehead.

Ouin, responsible for treating him, busied himself nonstop around him.

Balin, sitting beside Lann, mature and composed, stood first, motioning Philipp to be calm before turning to Bard.

"Has something happened, Mr. Bard?"

"Are you asking me what happened?" Bard let go of Lann’s shoulder, towering over Balin, squinting slightly, appearing a bit menacing.

"Isn’t your leader Sorlin? Sorlin Oak Shield, Thror’s grandson, Serafine’s son?"

Balin’s face went rigid, but quickly returned to normal: "Indeed."

"Then he is the King Under the Mountain! Your purpose in going to the Lonely Mountain isn’t to visit the Iron Hills, nor to pay homage! It’s to reclaim the kingdom!"

With a snap, Bard walked to his window, pushed it open, and stepped aside.

Letting the Dwarves see outside for themselves.

By then, darkness had fallen, with ice chunks floating in the waterways of Long Lake Town reflecting moonlight and starlight. Though the townsfolk couldn’t afford many lights with little money, this reflection kept the town from being too dark.

Many townsfolk sat on small boats in the waterways, or by their front doors, mending fishing nets.

As they worked and chatted, voices filled with wonder and anticipation buzzed around them, accumulating.

"Master of Silver Springs, King of Stone Carving. The King Under the Mountain, will return to the throne..."

"Have you heard? Once the King Under the Mountain returns, the gold in the mountain will flow out! Through the entire river! The entire lake will flow with gold!"

"Gold flowing in the river? How much would that be?"

"How much doesn’t matter. The whole mountain is filled with it! Brimming with gold!"

The townsfolk’s discussions, jubilant to the Dwarves and humans alike, sounded joyful to Balin and the Dwarves who came over.

But Lann, observing Bard’s worried expression, knew things weren’t as simple.

"You dwarves may have prophecies and songs about restoring your kingdom; I don’t know what those prophecies describe. But Long Lake Town has its own prophecy."

Bard said solemnly.

Experienced Balin was the first to realize that the prophecy of Long Lake Town might not be favorable.

However, Philipp, who was spoken to with cheerful words, was much simpler in thought.

"You have prophecies too? That sounds great; everyone can live a prosperous life again!"

"Does this song sound good?"

Bard snorted coldly.

"Yes, it sounds good. But precisely because the first part sounds good, it’s the best part, so people prefer to repeatedly sing the first part, remember the first part, and don’t want to continue recalling the second part!"

"Let me tell you the whole prophecy!"

"Master of Silver Springs, King of Stone Carving. King Under the Mountain will return to the throne. When the King of the Mountain returns, the bell will ring out of joy."

"But afterwards, it will decline and exhaust! The lake shimmering, trapped in a sea of fire!"

Bard gazed complexly at the dwarves, and at the three children shrinking in the corner of the room.

"You cannot wake the evil dragon for your kingdom, your throne, and gold, causing everyone in Long Lake Town to die!"

"You can’t do this... you can’t."

His hand gripped Balin’s collar, while Philipp directly wanted to rush up to push him away.

But Balin still waved to Philipp.

"Don’t come over, calm down! You should calm down too, Master Bard."

Balin was also an elder among the dwarves, having seen many things, psychologically more mature than the younger dwarves.

He knew that many things, as long as they haven’t reached the point of action, often have the opportunity to be discussed further by maintaining restraint.

Starting a fight is simple, it only takes a moment of hotheadedness.

But remaining in control in the face of a fight in your own and others’ agitated emotions and sharp situations... it requires greater courage than reckless passion.

At this time, in Long Lake Town, illuminated by the reflection of moonlight off ice blocks in the canal, a distant bell rang.

Under Bard’s window, the townsfolk, curious yet expectant, whispered and started heading towards the town hall in groups.

That bell was the sound of gathering the townsfolk at the square before the town hall.

"Surely it’s time to issue armor and armament."

Balin spread his arms, looking at Bard, not intending to pull his collar from Bard’s hands, very restrained and polite.

"Sorlin is there preparing to receive weapons; if you truly want to stop him, then let’s go together. We can explain everything in front of all the townsfolk, how about it?"

Bard’s hand, gripping Balin’s collar, rubbed repeatedly, and finally let go abruptly.

After bowing his head silently for a moment, Bard spoke: "Are you all going to the square?"

The dwarves nodded, Qi Li struggled to stand up, but his injury worsened. Philipp and Ouin hurried to his side.

Seeing Qi Li’s face, pale as if dead, Bard nodded tightly.

"Go downstairs and board the boat; I’ll take you there. It’s faster through the canal."

Balin smiled friendly at Bard and then, together with Bofur and Bilbo, headed downstairs.

"Are you going too?"

After the dwarves went downstairs, Bard turned to ask Lann.

"I’ll walk; your small boat can’t carry me."

The Demon Hunter waved his hand, then approached Bard and spoke in a soothing tone.

"I think you needn’t worry too much about your prophecy; Sorlin’s plan is very conservative."

"This time they go into the Lonely Mountain only to find the gemstone that can command the dwarf army; once found, they’ll withdraw. After gathering the army, they’ll go to the Lonely Mountain to kill the dragon."

"It’s just finding a gemstone, it shouldn’t wake Smaug; that creature has been asleep for sixty years, hasn’t it?"

Bard shook his head.

"I can’t be as optimistic as you. The gold in the Lonely Mountain can corrupt the dwarves’ minds, especially Sorlin’s family!"

"The dragon itself was attracted by his grandfather’s insatiable greed for gathering treasure! Greed for gold is their family’s hereditary disease!"

"This disease has already destroyed a dwarf kingdom, a human city! Isn’t that enough? Can we still trust him?"

Bard shook his head quickly downstairs, supporting the small boat to take the dwarves to the square before the town hall.

His three children, though they have witnessed many changes today, still manage to remain calm and kind.

Bard’s eldest daughter exchanged a new towel for Qi Li, while his youngest daughter, though slightly shrinking, cautiously offered Lann a cup of water.

"Thank you, miss."

After Lann thanked her, he drank the cup dry, flashing a smile at the little girl.

He walked towards the door, made a gesture to Rong Buqiu, indicating for it to stay.

The little cat subtly raised its small paws to show understanding.

After going downstairs, Lann found that walking was indeed slower than rowing.

Townsfolk gathered by the bell walked towards the square, already crowded.

Add to that they were previously working, Long Lake Town’s already narrow paths had a lot of obstacles and roadblocks left behind.

In conditions of light that were not bad but certainly not good, it was quite obstructive.

But as Lann just raised his long legs, stepping over a small pile of woven baskets, his ears slightly twitched, and his eyes squinted slightly.