Hearing Kaen's firm response, Gandalf's expression turned curious. He smiled and asked, "Why do you think so? Don't you feel I'm overreacting?"
Of course not, Kaen thought silently.
This expedition led by the Dwarven prince Thorin was of monumental importance.
Though Thorin Oakenshield ultimately died in battle, he successfully reclaimed the Lonely Mountain.
His cousin, Dáin Ironfoot, inherited the throne of Erebor and united the Dwarves of Durin's Folk.
In the War of the Ring that followed, Dáin Ironfoot and the Men of Dale held off waves of invaders from the East, making an unforgettable contribution to the victory in the great war.
Naturally, Kaen didn't say all of this aloud. Instead, he simply patted the sword at his waist and said:
"Like you, I do not tolerate threats. The best course of action is to strike first and eliminate them before disaster unfolds."
At those words, Gandalf's eyes gleamed with emotion. After countless years of walking Middle-earth, he had finally found someone who thought just like he did.
Gandalf said, "Lord Kaen, on this point, we are in complete agreement."
Kaen nodded. "If you ever discover signs of war brewing somewhere, come to me. So long as we face the Shadow, I will never sheathe my blade."
"That is excellent news."
During their journey, Gandalf and Kaen spoke at length.
As an incarnate Maia, Gandalf had accumulated a vast trove of wisdom and insight through the ages, allowing Kaen to deepen his understanding of this world.
At the same time…
Kaen realized that Gandalf was, in truth, the very embodiment of a warmonger—benevolent in appearance, yet utterly relentless in his pursuit of preemptive strikes to crush the darkness in its cradle.
In the original tales, every major battle of the Third Age bore Gandalf's shadowy involvement.
In contrast, Saruman the White, chief of the wizards, had become a recluse, locking himself away in the tower of Isengard.
…
After half a day's travel, the group finally arrived at another village.
As they entered, they were met with strange looks from the villagers.
The people here were gaunt and ragged, their clothes in tatters. Most of the buildings were crumbling, long neglected.
Will explained, "Lord Kaen, this is the village of Westown. Its population used to match ours, but at the start of the year it was raided by Orcs. Now, fewer than three hundred remain."
Kaen nodded and asked, "Who's in charge here?"
"That would be Mister Hubert. He's the village head. He came to our village not long ago to borrow grain. In fact, many villages come to us each year to ask for food. As long as we have enough surplus, Grandpa always lends them a little."
"Go and bring him here," Kaen said. "Tell him someone has come who's willing to feed those who are starving."
"Yes, my lord."
Will dashed off and soon returned with a tall, thin man.
This man was dressed more decently than the others and wore a single-lens eyeglass, giving him the look of a scholar.
Kaen asked, "You're Hubert?"
"I am, my lord," the man nodded. Then, with a puzzled look, he asked, "Old Jack's grandson told me someone wishes to provide us with food. Might that person be you?"
"It is," Kaen replied with a nod.
At that moment, Gandalf glanced at Hubert and said, "You don't look like a village chief—you look more like a scholar."
At this, Hubert adjusted his glasses and replied, "I was raised in Rivendell, and so I read quite a few books. Later, I left and came here. When I saw how the villagers had lost their homes to Orcs, I chose to stay and serve as their head."
"No wonder," Gandalf mused. "There are many books there. I often borrow from Elrond myself."
"Elrond?"
The name made Hubert flinch. His eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean Lord Elrond?"
"Indeed." Gandalf smiled. "I am Gandalf the Grey, a friend of Lord Elrond."
"So it really is you," Hubert said, visibly excited. "I've heard tales of your deeds. The Elves call you Mithrandir."
Seeing Gandalf up close clearly delighted Hubert, and he then turned to Kaen. "May I ask, who might you be?"
"Kaen Eowenríel."
"Ah, Lord Kaen, it's an honor to meet you—and of course, you as well, Grey Wizard." Hubert bowed respectfully, then turned his eyes toward Kaen. "I heard you intend to provide food for our villagers. Is that true?"
"Of course," Kaen said, nodding. "And not only food—I can offer protection too. You won't have to fear Orc raids again."
To Kaen's surprise, Hubert didn't look particularly thrilled. Instead, he fell into thought.
"My lord, surely you have a purpose behind this, don't you? I just don't understand—what value could a group of starving villagers possibly hold for someone like you?"
Kaen chuckled. "I'm attempting to establish a kingdom. I need people—many people. Especially those with knowledge and skill. If you're willing, you can join me."
Hubert's brows furrowed. Clearly, this answer caught him off guard.
Will quickly spoke up, "Mister Hubert, Lord Kaen saved our village two days ago. My grandfather and I have already sworn loyalty to him."
Gandalf added, "It's a good choice, is it not? At least you won't go hungry anymore."
"Well…"
Hubert hesitated, then said, "My lord, may I have some time to think about it?"
Kaen nodded. "Of course. Our base is in the abandoned village south of the Troll-woods. If you make up your mind, bring your people there. You'll always be welcome."
"I shall, my lord."
Most of the villagers here were visibly malnourished, so Kaen chose not to recruit soldiers from this place.
After a short rest, the party continued on toward the next village.
Before leaving, Hubert escorted them to the edge of the village. Kaen turned to him and said:
"With your scholarly background, you'd be welcomed and treated with dignity anywhere you go. Yet you chose to remain here for the sake of these poor villagers. You are a man with a heart full of compassion. But remember this—in a world overrun by Orcs and trolls, compassion and knowledge alone cannot keep people safe. What you need… is a place where your talents can make a difference."
As the four figures departed into the distance, something flickered in Hubert's eyes—an awakening.