“I have heard of you, the powerful warrior said to wield mysterious arts, the Bane of the Orcs: Garrett.”

Legolas sheathed his weapon, took two steps forward, and said, “Welcome to the Woodland Realm. I, Legolas, greet you.”

Recently, there had been many tales about this human, some quite extraordinary. At first, he didn’t believe them, he thought they were embellished stories, for how could a mere Man achieve such feats?

That changed when his father, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm, confirmed that the stories were true. Only then did he begin to take them seriously.

[Woodland Realm Reputation: +500 (Respected)]

Even though Garrett had never visited this place before, his initial reputation with the Woodland Realm started at 500. This was likely because he had previously cleared out the orcs near the river valley at Mirkwood’s edge, his deeds had not escaped the elves’ notice.

Since his arrival in the region, the main threat to the Woodland Elves had shifted from orcs to spiders. The orcs had even stopped harassing the forest’s borders.

In fact, after slaying so many orcs, Garrett’s reputation with most factions in the area had reached the “Respected” level. Only those in distant lands still held lower regard, but as the tales continued to spread, his standing in those regions was gradually rising as well.

On the other side, another elf stepped forward after Legolas. She gave Garrett an appraising look and said, “Captain of the Guard, Tauriel. I greet you.”

Garrett nodded and replied, “I greet you both.”

After the formal greetings, Legolas said, “You may have to wait briefly for proper hospitality. I must deal with these dwarves first.”

“They are my companions,” Garrett explained.

“My apologies, but I cannot determine their intentions for coming here. They must be brought in for questioning.”

Legolas gestured, preparing to search the dwarves.

“Why? You’re treating us differently!” one dwarf protested.

“This is unfair treatment!”

“Did you not hear? We travel with Garrett!”

“Back off! Don’t touch my stuff…”

“We share the same objective.” Seeing that the dwarves were about to be restrained, Garrett spoke.

The atmosphere instantly grew tense.

The same objective, that meant if the dwarves were to be bound, Garrett would have to be as well. And no one wished to oppose a living legend.

Legolas froze mid-motion, turned to glance at Garrett, drew a deep breath, and was about to speak, when a scout suddenly arrived, interrupting them. He addressed Garrett: “King Thranduil requests a private audience with you.”

Legolas looked left and right, then reluctantly lowered his hand and gave the order, “Escort them back to the halls.”

The dwarves sighed in relief. Bilbo, who had been hiding in the middle, also relaxed and gave up his plan to remain invisible. Surrounded by elves, the group entered a magnificent palace.

Clang!

The gates closed behind them.

Although the dwarves avoided being searched or thrown into cells, they were still closely watched by guards to prevent any sudden actions.

The company waited and rested in the reception hall, muttering and discussing their current situation.

After a time, Thorin and Bilbo were taken away and brought before the king’s throne.

But before them, Garrett had already been conversing with Thranduil for some while.

—

“Since last year, I have heard tales of a valiant warrior who stood alone in the Vales of Anduin, holding back an orc army while evacuating the Men there. Accompanying him was a Grey Wizard. I know Gandalf’s capabilities well, which makes me all the more curious, how did you alone stand against so many orcs?”

The king rose from his throne and slowly descended, studying Garrett intently, clearly reviewing his deeds and titles.

“With this,” Garrett said, touching his sword hilt.

“This blade… may I examine it?”

“Of course.”

With Garrett’s permission, Thranduil drew the longsword and held it up to study it closely.

“Masterfully forged. Does it bear a name?”

“No, actually, I haven’t thought of a name for it yet.”

“The day it receives a name will be the day orcs learn to fear it even more.”

The king made this prophetic remark, gave the sword an elegant flourish, then returned it to its sheath.

“Thank you.”

After this courteous exchange, Thranduil returned to his throne and addressed the matter at hand.

“So tell me, Garrett, Bane of the Orcs, savior of the Anduin Valley’s people, wielder of mysterious arts, what brings you to the Woodland Realm? Do you seek sanctuary from the orc legions pursuing you, or is this merely a waypoint on your journey?”

Garrett had intended to explain the complex circumstances behind their quest, but before he could choose his words, the king continued, “Whatever your purpose, the Woodland Realm welcomes you. You may remain as long as you wish. We offer our friendship and patience to those we consider allies.”

Thranduil’s attitude toward Garrett was gracious and warm, but when it came to the dwarves, he made no mention whatsoever, as if Garrett had arrived in Mirkwood alone.

“They are my companions. Our goal is to reclaim Erebor. I believe Your Majesty understands the strategic importance of that mountain. If the dwarves succeed in reclaiming their homeland, it will become a bastion against the forces of darkness.”

Garrett spoke directly.

“I understand, naturally. But have you forgotten? A dragon still lairs there.”

If Smaug were to be disturbed and awakened, the first to suffer would be the Woodland Realm. Other realms might hesitate or delay their response, but Mirkwood would face immediate danger.

“I will deal with the dragon,” Garrett declared.

“You…?”

Thranduil nearly smiled in disbelief.

A Man?

Did he truly comprehend the terror of a dragon?

Even back when he had led an entire army, he had not wanted to face such a beast directly.

It wasn’t that dragons couldn’t be defeated, but the cost would be catastrophic, potentially devastating the Elven population.

Elves were no longer as numerous or thriving as they had been in ages past. Every great war brought them closer to decline.

Just as he was about to warn this human friend against making rash boasts, the guards arrived with two others.

Thorin and Bilbo.

Bilbo’s wide eyes darted nervously from one face to another. He was clearly anxious, though seeing Garrett present offered him some reassurance.

When speaking with Garrett, Thranduil had worn a faint, relaxed smile. But the moment Thorin entered, Garrett could sense that calm vanish, even the subtle curve of the king’s lips disappeared.

Just as Thranduil had said: the Woodland Elves reserved their goodwill only for friends.

The two kings soon began their discourse.

Thranduil offered support for Thorin’s mission to reclaim Erebor, as long as the dwarves returned what rightfully belonged to the Elves.

But Thorin, true to his nature, met the Elves with nothing but mockery and scorn. He rejected all of Thranduil’s conditions, acted as though the Elves owed them aid, and loudly denounced the king right in his own hall, and after his rant, threw in a few insults for good measure.

Garrett had to restrain himself multiple times from silencing Thorin himself.

Thranduil’s eyes blazed with fury upon his throne.

“I have never witnessed such arrogance in a dwarf!”

Thorin would soon realize he had crossed a line. Woodland Elves didn’t possess the same temperaments as those from Rivendell, while graceful and elegant, their grace came with a touch of volatility.

“If you wish to remain here, then stay and rot. A few centuries pass in the blink of an eye for the Firstborn. I can wait.”

“Imprison them.”

Thanks to Thorin’s insults and contempt, Garrett’s reputation provided no protection. The dwarves were disarmed and thrown into cells.

However, Thranduil did not direct his anger toward Bilbo. After a brief conversation, he allowed the hobbit to go free, like Garrett, he was permitted to move about the halls as he pleased.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep