The mocking expression Thorin had maintained on his face instantly froze upon hearing the news of the Dragon, his pupils contracting violently. He stumbled back two steps, barely catching himself against the stone pillar behind him.
His trembling fingers dug into the patterns of the stone pillar, the sound of his knuckles turning white clearly audible: "This is impossible! Smaug has been dormant in the Lonely Mountain for sixty years! How could it wake up precisely at this moment!"
Thranduil watched the dwarf Prince's discomfited state, his fingertips lightly tapping on the armrest of his throne, enjoying the cold sweat beading on the other's forehead: "Why not? Just as you suddenly tried to reclaim the Lonely Mountain, why couldn't the Dragon suddenly open its Golden Eyes?"
He deliberately drew out the end of his sentence: "After all, it chose to sleep on its own; no one could force its eyes shut with a sword."
Arthur raised a hand to press Thorin's trembling shoulder, asking with a serious expression: "King Thranduil, please explain the current situation of the Lonely Mountain in detail."
"Just a few scattered words brought by the River Valley Town refugees." Thranduil casually stroked the armrest of his Antler Throne, "But one thing is certain—while you were drilling through tree hollows in Mirkwood, an uninvited guest awakened the Dragon in a way you couldn't imagine!"
Then he looked at Thorin and said, "But one thing is certain: the Dragon's awakening must have something to do with your expedition. At least, in places you can't see, someone or something directly entered the Lonely Mountain and awakened that Dragon."
Thorin still shook his head, looking disbelieving: "No, this is impossible. The main gate of the Lonely Mountain has been blocked by us. Collapsed stone walls and falling rocks have filled all possible entry routes. Unless that Dragon itself wants to come out, no one can enter."
"Perhaps someone discovered your little secret?"
Thranduil suddenly strode down from the throne, leaning in close, his silver hair cascading like a waterfall, and casually said into Thorin's ear: "Like that secret passage even the birds don't know about?"
Thorin immediately retorted angrily: "That's even more impossible! Only my kinsmen know about that secret passage!"
Thranduil burst into laughter after hearing Thorin's roar: "So you really have a secret passage that can enter the Lonely Mountain, and you plan to reclaim your dwarf King's royal treasure from that Dragon."
Thorin's roar abruptly ceased, his face changing dramatically, darkening as he growled: "Are you tricking me?"
Thranduil reined in his smile, stepping back a few paces and taunting Thorin: "Tricking you? Didn't you say it yourself? I'm just confirming my guess based on what you said. Or is your head as stiff as the stones of the Lonely Mountain, unable to even think?"
Arthur suddenly stepped between the two, crossing his hands over his chest in a gesture of mediation, sighing softly: "Gentlemen, letting the chains of hatred continue to entangle your necks will only suffocate you."
After comforting Thorin for a few moments, he asked Thranduil: "King Thranduil, I joined Thorin's company on this journey precisely because I wanted to repay him for the help he gave me in my most desperate time. I once swore by the Erdtree to help him deal with that Dragon. Please inform me of all intelligence regarding that Dragon's awakening."
Thranduil, now re-seated on his Antler Throne, replied: "You can ask the Lake-town humans who fled to my territory for refuge, but I cannot guarantee they will provide you with more effective information. On the night of the eclipse three days ago, seventeen Lake-town people scurried out of their holes like scalded moles. They dragged their sulfur-scorched lungs, saying they saw dark Dragon wings sweep across the Long Lake—just like that night a hundred years ago when River Valley Town was burned."
Arthur stepped forward half a pace, his right hand on his chest, performing an Elven salute, which he had mimicked from observing the Elven warriors' actions towards Legolas upon entering the palace.
He continued to ask: "Where are these innocent humans now? Their words might help my friend and I find the Dragon's patterns of behavior and its weaknesses."
Thranduil replied: "They are in my palace receiving treatment from my people. Legolas, you will lead our esteemed guests to the area where those humans are later."
Legolas did not speak, only nodded slightly in agreement.
Then Thranduil paused, reminding Arthur: "Arthur, I must warn you: Dragon fire scorches more than just the body; those people's souls are covered in scorch marks. Are you sure you want to listen to the ravings of madmen?"
"Thank you for your kind warning, King Thranduil. But truth is often hidden in broken shards of glass, and I am very good at extracting key information from fragmented language, like peeling a cocoon, to get the answers I seek," Arthur said.
He looked at Thorin and the dwarves behind him, then turned around and clasped his hands in front of him, performing another standard Elven salute towards the throne: "At the same time, I humbly request Your Majesty to arrange a secluded residence for us in the Woodland Realm. We will not be too much of a bother."
Thranduil's silver-grey pupils swept over the dwarves, a mocking curve playing on his lips: "As long as your dwarf friends aren't as noisy as sparrows in heat, my palace has plenty of rooms to stuff mute people into."
Thorin sneered back: "Only stone lizards hiding in moss fear noise, after all, any miner's pickaxe can collapse their mud nests."
Why do you two like to argue so much?
Before Thranduil could speak again, Arthur first said "My apologies" to the Elven King, then abruptly grabbed Thorin's wrist: "Come with me! Balin! Bring the others along!"
He practically dragged Thorin backward down the throne steps, the light striking chaotic silver patches on the Blaidd, the Half-Wolf's armor.
Thranduil gestured with his eyes for Legolas to follow them, then he found Thorin's posture somewhat amusing, so his laughter followed Thorin and the others: "Run slower, dwarves, don't let your beards trip you up—"
"Shut up, old tree spirit! Arthur, let go of me! I'm going to leave some scratches on his pretty face!" Thorin's roar exploded between the pillars. He struggled to confront Thranduil again, but he could not break free from Arthur's restraint.
When the dwarves were settled, Arthur leaned back against the cold marble wall, raising a hand to rub his throbbing temples.
Inside the room, the dwarves' rising and falling arguments pierced through the heavy oak door, like twelve dull axes repeatedly hacking at his nerves. When Arthur tried to take a deep breath, even the air he inhaled seemed to carry the dwarves' symphony of anvil and furnace.
Millison noticed the expression on Arthur's face, her fingers lightly touching his vambrace, her voice like mint-infused spring water flowing over scorched earth, asking with concern: "Are you alright? Your heartbeat is as fast as a startled elk."
Arthur gave a strained smile: "It's alright, just a bit of a headache, nothing major. I just miss the days when Gandalf was around. Now I understand why Gandalf always wore a pointed hat—perhaps it was to keep the dwarves' roars out of the wool lining."
Arthur looked around and frowned, noticing two familiar figures were missing.
"Where did Bernal and Igon go?" he asked Millison.
Millison gently tidied her crimson hair, which had been ruffled by the night wind, and replied softly, "While you were busy appeasing Thorin and the others, Legolas had already taken them to the Lake-town refugee resting area."
She paused, then added, "Igon said he wanted to see the refugees who had been burned by Dragon fire, to see if he could help. They went this way; the Elf told me to just follow the road to find the Lake-town humans."
As Millison spoke, she raised her hand. Arthur followed her finger and discovered a forest path.
He then straightened up, leaving the marble wall he had been leaning against: "Indeed, as a Dragon Warrior, Igon is all too familiar with the injuries caused by Dragon fire. And perhaps he can discern some clues about Smaug from the burn marks on those wounds. Let's go, we'll go take a look."
Arthur followed the path Legolas had indicated, and at the end of the ancient, vine-entwined road, faint bonfires suddenly appeared.
When he pushed aside the drooping silver fern leaves, he saw Igon kneeling, examining a victim's charred arm, with Bernal standing nearby.
More than twenty Lake-town refugees huddled in the houses provided by the Elves, sulfur burns still visible on their exposed skin.
Arthur's gaze swept around the houses; three Elf archers were hidden among the gnarled roots of ancient trees, secretly protecting and monitoring these humans.
Thranduil was quite kind to these humans, at least not targeting them everywhere like he did the dwarves.
Arthur could guarantee that if he hadn't followed Thorin and the others this time, Thranduil would probably have thrown these dwarves directly into the dungeon.
Legolas was also there, and under the Elf Prince's assurance, Igon was able to quickly gain the trust of these Lake-town residents, who presented their Dragon fire burns for Igon to examine.
"Is there anyone willing to volunteer? I might be able to try and heal your burns."
Igon took a dark green oval jade bottle from his backpack, opened it, and a very distinct herbal fragrance accompanied the action, revealing a green paste-like ointment inside.
Legolas saw Igon's action and reminded him, "Archer, we have already applied medicinal herbs for burns to these humans."
Igon didn't even lift his head, waving a proactive young man over. The young man's burns were quite severe, with almost his entire face wrapped in white bandages.
Only then did he explain to Legolas, "Of course I smelled it; the herbal scent here is so strong it's almost pickled my nose. But I just examined a few people burned by Dragon fire, and their wounds are similar to injuries I've sustained in the past, so I want to try my ointment; it should be more effective."
Anyway, if it doesn't work, there are still Arthur's Erdtree Prayers.
"Wait, Bain."
The boy's father anxiously walked over. He had been tending to other more severely injured Lake-town residents and hadn't noticed his son running up to Igon.
Under his father's worried gaze, the boy bravely untied the bandage on his face, revealing the terrifying and grotesque burned, pitted skin underneath.
He was almost disfigured; if not for the Elves' herbs and Glintstone Magic, such severe injuries would have been enough to cause the boy to die from infection.
But even so, the boy's face had developed slight necrosis.
Igon glanced at the boy's father and let out a rough laugh: "Don't worry, this is a good treasure I've been using all along; it will definitely heal your son's face."
Arthur walked over at this moment and also said to the father, "Igon is the warrior I know who is most skilled at treating Dragon fire wounds. I am Arthur, and also a wizard. I assure you, even if Igon's ointment doesn't work, I can preserve your son's life and return him to you completely unharmed."
The father still frowned deeply, but his son's severely burned face looked at him with longing eyes, which made the father nod.
He bent down, embraced his son, and said, "Bain, I'm always by your side."
Igon grinned. He took a dab of ointment from the jade bottle and gently applied it to the boy's face.
The father nervously held his son tighter, his eyes fixed on the area where the ointment was applied. After realizing that Bain didn't cry out in pain or have any other adverse reactions, he let out a long sigh of relief.
Igon skillfully applied the ointment to the boy's entire face, grinning as he said, "Don't worry, this ointment can relieve pain. Doesn't your face feel a cool sensation now, no longer a burning pain?"
Although Bain couldn't speak, judging by the frequency of his nods, Igon was correct.
"Don't put a bandage on him again. In about half a day, he can wash his face, and your son's beautiful face will be back," Igon said, waving his hand at the father who had brought a clean bandage.
Legolas narrowed his eyes, curiously looking at the jade bottle Igon had placed on the ground.
To heal injuries caused by Dragon fire in half a day—the Erdtree's territory was full of such wondrous things that he had never seen in his long life.
Upon hearing Igon's words, the boy's father immediately eagerly said to Arthur and the others, "Then could you please help my other compatriots heal their burns? Some are so severely burned that they've fallen unconscious, and even with the Elves' treatment, it's only barely saved their lives."
After speaking, he realized that his words had sounded greedy and showed an apologetic look.
Arthur smiled, motioning for the man to relax, then said to Igon, "Igon, go help them. Bernal, you also help cast some restorative Erdtree Prayers."
"Thank you, thank you," the boy's father kept thanking them.
Arthur said, "No need to thank us so soon, because I have some questions for you. Your answers will be the payment for treating their burns."
The man showed a relieved expression, as if this was how it should be: "If it weren't for you and your friends, I truly don't know what I would do. Answering your questions is what I should do. I apologize, I haven't told you my name yet. I am Bard, a member of the Lake-town Guard."