Gandalf and Garrett had walked quite a distance before Gandalf finally composed himself. He then said, “Whether those dwarves approve or not, we must reach Rivendell. The moon-letters on that map can only be read by Elrond, Lord of Rivendell. We cannot possibly achieve the final objective of this quest without them. We require the elves’ aid.”

“Garrett, when the moment comes, I hope you can help me persuade them, by whatever means necessary.”

“Alright, I will if it’s necessary,” Garrett agreed without hesitation.

“But where are we going now? Aren’t we heading back?” he asked Gandalf as he noticed the sky had already darkened.

Gandalf paused briefly and replied, “I have no desire to face those dwarves at present. You go back first, I’ll scout ahead and survey the road. I’ll return later.”

“Alright.”

Still brooding, evidently.

Garrett turned and walked back.

—

Meanwhile, near the ruined farmstead, Bilbo was carrying two bowls of soup, intending to bring them to Kíli and Fíli. But as he approached, he noticed the two dwarves standing motionless, clearly troubled.

“What’s the matter?”

“We’ve lost two ponies. There should be seventeen here, but now there are only fifteen.”

Besides the fifteen riding ponies, there were two additional ones used specifically for carrying supplies.

“Should we inform Thorin?”

“Er… no, we don’t want to worry him just yet.”

“Garrett’s rather fine-looking horse is missing as well…”

Kíli and Fíli were clearly distressed. This was a serious problem, the equipment on that mount was valuable, and they couldn’t afford to replace it.

“As the burglar of this company, we think you should help us investigate this matter.”

Hearing this, Bilbo had no choice but to set down the bowls and begin examining the scene.

“These trees appear to have been torn up by the roots…”

Looking at the marks left behind, Bilbo felt deep unease. What kind of creature possessed the strength to uproot entire trees?

“Agreed,” Kíli said, then suddenly noticed something in the distance.

“There’s firelight over there…”

“What could it be?”

“Trolls,” Kíli said grimly.

“This is your moment, Master Baggins. Those mountain trolls are slow and stupid, and you’re so small, they won’t even notice you.”

“Me? No, no, no, no, I—”

“We’ll be watching from cover.”

Thump.

Before he could finish protesting, Bilbo had already been pushed out from behind the bushes.

“…Alright.”

No retreat now, he had to gather his courage and proceed.

“Fetch the others.”

Though Kíli and Fíli feared Thorin’s wrath, they knew how serious the situation was. Realizing they couldn’t handle trolls alone, they immediately went to alert the rest of the company.

—

The dwarves watched Bilbo’s actions nervously. Until… he was discovered by the trolls and seized in their massive hands.

“Are there any others around here with you?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“There aren’t! I told you there aren’t!”

Even in danger, Bilbo stubbornly refused to betray his companions.

Witnessing Bilbo’s courage, Kíli couldn’t hold back any longer. He drew his sword and charged at the nearest troll.

“Release him!”

“Attack!” Thorin, realizing stealth was no longer possible, immediately gave the command and led the assault.

The dwarves roared battle cries and followed close behind.

The scene quickly descended into chaos. Yet despite the disorder, the dwarves fought with tight coordination, taking turns delivering powerful strikes against the trolls.

This exceptional teamwork and unity was precisely why the dwarves, despite their smaller stature, had become one of the most formidable warrior peoples in Middle-earth.

“Curse you, stone-heads, try this!”

Clang!

One dwarf swung his war-hammer and struck it hard against a troll’s skull. But what should have been a bone-crushing blow only managed to knock loose a few yellowed teeth.

The trolls’ hide was far too thick, tough as granite. Ordinary weapons couldn’t inflict serious wounds.

Even with dwarven strength, they could only manage to slice through some skin and flesh, making the trolls bellow in pain, but delivering mortal blows remained extremely difficult. Even so, under the dwarves’ coordinated assault, the trolls were soon at a disadvantage. It looked like it was only a matter of time before they were defeated.

Suddenly, two trolls grabbed Bilbo by his arms and legs.

“Drop your weapons, or we’ll rip him to pieces!”

Every eye turned to Thorin, who stared at the terrified Bilbo.

Without hesitation, clang, he let his weapon fall.

He chose to risk the safety of his company of thirteen dwarves to preserve Bilbo’s life, rather than sacrifice the hobbit for their tactical advantage.

Trolls preferred their meat fresh, and typically wouldn’t kill their prey until immediately before cooking.

Now the company of dwarves sat bound nearby, muttering curses at the trolls while watching the pot of water come to boil.

“We better hurry, or the sun will come up. I don’t want to turn to stone…”

One of the trolls grumbled. Though the speaker thought little of the comment, Bilbo caught the crucial hint and immediately stepped forward to stall for time.

“No, no, you can’t just cook dwarves like that. First, you have to, er, skin them!”

The dwarves erupted in noisy protest.

“What did you say, you daft hobbit? Just wait until I get my hands on—”

Thorin kicked the complaining dwarf, signaling him to remain silent.

Bilbo ignored the threats and continued wracking his brain for ways to delay their fate. As he pondered, he suddenly glimpsed someone appear on a nearby boulder.

A figure clad in dark armor.

The warrior held up a finger to his lips, shhh.

Then, as the trolls remained focused on Bilbo, he suddenly leaped down.

Thud!

A sword strike landed, a critical hit. The troll released a pained shriek. The hide that dwarves had failed to pierce despite all their efforts was suddenly slashed open, gushing blood.

Simultaneously, the blade erupted in flames as it struck. The troll caught fire, screaming in agony as it rolled upon the ground.

“They’ve got reinforcements!”

Yet the trolls didn’t grasp how dire their situation had become. Instead of fleeing, they charged forward.

Garrett struck again, setting a second troll ablaze.

But one troll remained unharmed. Its massive fist, larger than an entire dwarf, swept toward Garrett with tremendous force.

“Behind you, look out!” Thorin shouted urgently.

Garrett merely smiled slightly and raised one hand.

Boom!

He caught the troll’s punch directly.

He didn’t yield so much as an inch.

This was due to the knockback resistance of his netherite armor.

“I must be seeing things…”

One dwarf stared, wide-eyed, unable to blink.

That kind of blow would have flattened anyone else instantly, and he simply blocked it with his bare hand?

Deflecting the punch with his sword, Garrett weaved and spun, facing all three trolls simultaneously. Remarkably, every time a troll moved to attack, he seemed to anticipate it, reacting in advance to dodge or counter.

It was as if he possessed the gift of foresight.

Though he could have relied entirely on his armor to absorb their strikes, instinct and hard-won battle experience had him moving with expert agility, completely overwhelming the trolls.

“Slippery eel!”

One of the trolls cursed.

But the smartest among them suddenly ceased attacking and retreated several steps.

What he witnessed triggered a buried memory, a tale passed down among troll-kind.

The legend of the Hoard-Stalker.

It was said that no troll’s attack could touch the Hoard-Stalker. It would hunt down lone trolls, slay them, and claim every last coin and gem from their hoards, leaving nothing behind.

Because of this tale, many trolls who once dwelt alone had chosen to band together for protection.

“You, you’re the Hoard-Stalker!”

The retreating troll screamed, eyes wide with terror.

Hoard-Stalker?

The bound dwarves exchanged puzzled glances, wondering what the troll was babbling about.

“Ah… so that’s what you call me,” Garrett said, flicking blood from his blade and smiling.

But to the trolls, that smile appeared like Death’s own grin.

“Flee—!”

Boom!

“Let dawn take you all!”

Before the trolls could escape, a figure appeared atop the boulder. He struck his staff down forcefully.

The stone split open upon impact, and brilliant sunlight poured through the gap.

“AAAAAHHH!!!”

The three trolls froze mid-flight and transformed into stone statues.

“Gandalf!” Bilbo cried out in relief.

“Well,” Gandalf replied, surveying the scene. “It appears I wasn’t needed after all. This situation seems to have been well in hand without my intervention.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep