“You burrowing vermin…”

Smaug didn’t understand the meaning of those strange clicking sounds, but what enraged him even more was that this mortal had actually slipped away right under his very snout.

And worse, he’d been struck!

His defenses had been breached!

“Return here at once!”

The furious dragon roared, his belly glowing crimson once more, dragonfire building in his throat and about to be unleashed into the tunnel.

BOOM!

A sudden explosion rocked the passage, blowing a crater several meters wide in the stone floor. A large batch of TNT blocks was launched skyward by the initial blast, scattering in all directions throughout the chamber.

Some detonated immediately upon impact, forcing Smaug to rear back and scramble for position. Others flew up to the ceiling, blasting off chunks of rock that rained down like hail, forcing the dragon to duck his massive head. Some even hit Smaug directly, exploding on impact, leaving him dazed and disoriented, swaying from side to side as he struggled to maintain his balance.

“Gah, what sorcery is this?!”

The relentless chain of explosions and collapsing debris forced Smaug to curl up defensively, folding his wing membranes close to his body, crouching low and tucking his head as he focused fully on defense.

—

In the throne hall beyond the sealed passage, Garrett listened to the chaos erupting behind the massive stone barrier.

The explosions didn’t last long, after all, he’d only had a few dozen blocks of TNT. It looked like a lot in his inventory, but when scattered across such a vast space, the coverage was limited. The barrage ended within moments.

But the destructive power wasn’t small.

“Is it over?”

He silently crept back through the tunnel he had dug, cautiously poking his head out to survey the aftermath.

All he could see were massive craters and rubble from collapsed ceiling sections. On either side, the walls bore impact marks where some enormous creature had been slammed into them.

“Where’s the dragon?”

Kicking aside a chunk of debris, he stepped into the passage and pulled out a torch. In the silence, a large mound of rubble dominated the space ahead. It might have been his imagination, but the pile seemed to be shifting slightly, barely noticeable, but steadily rising and falling.

An ominous feeling crept up his spine. He took several steps back, retreating toward the tunnel entrance.

CRASH.

“VENGEANCE! I WILL HAVE VENGEANCE!!”

“DEATH TO ALL WHO DEFIES SMAUG THE MIGHTY!!!”

Suddenly, the mountain of stone exploded outward as something colossal thrust upward from beneath. Rocks flew in every direction as Smaug’s massive form re-emerged, roaring furiously.

“Perish, all of you! Mortals, I shall bring you nothing but death!”

BOOM!

In his rage, the dragon slammed himself against the barrier wall with tremendous force, shaking Erebor so violently that even Garrett on the far side nearly lost his footing from the tremors.

BOOM!

BOOM!

The dragon continued his assault, roaring curses and crashing into the wall repeatedly. But no matter how ferociously he charged, the barrier remained immovable, a solid mountain of stone barring his path.

“This cannot be!”

How thick could this wall possibly be?

Smaug suddenly stopped his attack.

Something was wrong, this was no mere temporary blockade.

If it were only a few meters thick, it should have crumbled after the first impact, let alone after so many crushing blows.

This barrier didn’t resemble a wall at all. It appeared more as though an entire mountainside had fallen from the sky and lodged itself firmly in place.

“Don’t waste your strength. You’re not breaking through that.”

At the small tunnel entrance, barely two meters high, Smaug spotted the figure that so infuriated him. Without hesitation, he unleashed a torrent of dragonfire, uninterested in further words. But when the flames cleared, the figure remained standing there, completely unharmed.

Snap.

The massive jaws lunged forward suddenly, but Garrett swiftly dodged, spinning to the side and countering with a slash of his sword, knocking Smaug’s head away and making the dragon’s skull ring with the impact.

Loud impact, minimal damage.

Despite the earlier barrage of explosions, not even a single dragon scale had been broken. The display had been impressive, but the total damage was only a bit over a hundred.

For a creature of Smaug’s size and durability, the TNT explosions were essentially like firecrackers. In truth, even Garrett himself could survive such blasts without serious injury, as long as he wasn’t standing at the epicenter.

A strike that registered 18 damage on his interface only reduced the dragon’s health by 2 points, and even dozens of explosive hits couldn’t dislodge a single scale. Smaug’s natural armor rating was definitely superior to netherite. If he could somehow acquire a few of those scales, he could probably forge an incredibly powerful set of armor.

But while he coveted the materials adorning Smaug’s hide, he was also developing quite the headache.

It seemed he couldn’t defeat this thing without some seriously advanced equipment, or an equally desperate strategy.

Since he couldn’t craft any advanced gear right now, that left only the desperate option.

“You cannot imprison me forever, Steve.”

“The Dark Lord’s army has already begun its march. They will free me from this prison, and then it shall be the end for all of your kind. I have memorized your scent. You cannot escape my wrath. I will hunt you across Middle-earth for all eternity…”

BOOM!

The mountain shuddered once more.

—

Far away in the cramped prison cell of Lake-town, Bard jolted awake and peered through the iron bars toward the distant peaks.

“What was that sound?”

The town remained noisy and bustling, full of people coming and going. No one else seemed to notice the distant rumbling, or if a few keen-eared individuals did detect it, they dismissed it as unimportant.

After all, they’d lived here in peace for years. What great calamity could possibly threaten them now?

Clang, clang.

Bard rattled the heavy door anxiously.

“Did none of you hear that?”

—

On a hidden path behind the Lonely Mountain, the company of dwarves suddenly came to a halt.

“I heard it clearly. That sound came from deep within the Mountain…” Balin pressed his ear against the stone.

The next moment…

BOOM!

He shut his eyes and pulled his head back.

“That one nearly burst my eardrums.”

BOOM!

The mountain trembled again, loose stones clattering down the slopes.

“What’s happening in there?”

“The dragon, it must be Smaug! He’s awakened!”

“What’s the situation inside?”

“Did we come here for nothing…?”

The dwarves began to show signs of panic. If Smaug was indeed awake and active, how could they possibly carry out their plan?

“Silence!”

Thorin’s commanding shout forced the company to settle. In truth, he was the most anxious of them all, but as their leader, the last thing he could afford to display was fear or despair.

Even if he had to blind himself to reality, he had to project confidence.

“We still have time. There’s no need to jump to conclusions. After everything we’ve endured, are we truly going to turn back without even attempting to open the secret door? Simply because we fear that dragon?!”

“We are the heirs of Durin! Our purpose is to reclaim Erebor, to restore our ancestral home, and we shall not stop until we have achieved victory!”

“We have never doubted you, Thorin.” Balin was the first to step forward, with the rest of the company behind him, their eyes filled with determination.

“We will follow you to the death.”

“But what exactly is going on inside?”

“We can’t move forward blindly without knowing what we’re facing.”

Hearing their concern, Thorin closed his eyes, considering briefly before drawing a deep breath.

“Kíli, take the key and the map. Remain here with the others. I go ahead alone to investigate. If fortune favors us, I shall return before Durin’s Day arrives.”

He placed the items in Kíli’s hands and turned toward the mountain’s base.

“Where are you going?”

Kíli stood there bewildered, clutching the key and map.

“To the Front Gate. The sounds came from that direction. I’m going to find out what’s going on.”

Gripping the hilt of his sword, Thorin strode down the mountain path.

This dwarf, king in exile, who had never yet claimed his rightful throne, had been driven nearly to madness by his obsession to reclaim his homeland. Now that hope was finally within reach, failure would be worse than death.

Bilbo reached into his pocket and touched the Ring, calling out, “Thorin, I could—”

“Thorin, we stand with you.”

Placing a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder, the other dwarves stepped forward, surrounding him protectively.

“We are with you, Thorin. Whether it brings us victory, or death in battle, we choose to face it as one.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep