The three of them passed through the wooden door, and a nauseating stench instantly hit them in the face.
> [Environmental Warning: High-Concentration Toxic Gas]
> [Source: Troll Body Odor]
> [Suggestion: Hold breath or equip Gas Mask (Not Equipped)]
They had to cover their noses, tears streaming down their faces from the fumes. By the dim firelight, they saw the scene inside the room.
There lay a gigantic, unconscious troll. It was even bigger than the one the trio had fought in the girls' bathroom, blocking the center of the room like a mountain of meat. A bloody lump sat atop its head, and it lay limp on the floor, clearly taken out by whoever had come before them.
Rove stepped forward and kicked the troll's rough hide with the toe of his boot.
> [Hostile Unit: Cave Troll of Moria (Elite)]
> [Status: Unconscious (Severe Concussion)]
> [Damage Analysis: Sustained high-impact blunt force trauma. Likely caused by some form of Dark Magic impact.]
"Looks like someone cleared the roadblock for us," Rove said, looking around vigilantly, his wand still raised. "And they were brutal about it. This wasn't a simple Stunning Spell; it was knocked out by sheer force."
"Good thing we don't have to fight it," Harry said, stepping over the troll's massive legs with lingering fear. "Let's go, I can't breathe."
They carefully navigated around the troll and pushed open the next door.
However, the moment they crossed the threshold, a wall of purple fire sprang up in the doorway behind them, instantly sealing their retreat. Simultaneously, black flames roared to life in the doorway ahead, blocking their path forward.
They were trapped.
> [Loading Scenario: Isengard Alchemy Lab]
> [Environmental Effect: Toxic Vapors - Deducting 1 HP/sec (Sanity slowly decreasing)]
> [Warning: Rear blocked by Balrog's Fire - Impassable]
> [Warning: Front blocked by Black Fire of Mordor - Impassable]
The room was bare except for a long table on which stood seven bottles of different shapes. Next to them lay a roll of parchment with elegant handwriting.
"Look at this!" Harry picked up the parchment and read it by the firelight. "Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind, Two of us will help you, whichever you would find..."
Rove leaned in to take a look.
It was a riddle poem.
"It's logic," Hermione's eyes lit up. "This isn't magic—it's logic! A puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven't got an ounce of logic; they'd be stuck in here forever."
"Or poisoned to death," Rove stared at the bottles. In his System, dangerous red labels floated above them.
In his eyes, this wasn't Professor Snape's puzzle at all, but an alchemical trap left by Saruman.
Bottle 1: [Liquid Mercury (Deadly Poison)]
Bottle 2: [Berserker Blood of Orcs (Causes Confusion)]
Bottle 3: [False Hope (Nettle Wine)]
...
"We don't need magic, just our brains..." Hermione began pacing back and forth in front of the table, muttering to herself and pointing at the bottles. "Three are poison... two are wine... that leaves two..."
> [Detected Party Member 'Elven Scholar' activating skill: Erudition]
> [Puzzle Progress: 30%... 60%... 90%...]
Rove didn't disturb her. He leaned back against the table, facing the wall of purple fire, vigilantly watching for any shadows that might appear in the flames.
"Got it!" Hermione suddenly cried out excitedly.
She pointed to the smallest bottle in the row: "This one will get us through the black fire—toward the Stone."
Then she pointed to a rounded bottle at the far right end: "And this one will get us back through the purple fire."
Harry looked at the tiny bottle, his face suddenly turning pale. "That... there's only enough there for one swallow."
Hermione paused, looked closely at the tiny bottle, and her expression changed too. She nodded, her voice dropping: "That's hardly enough for one of us."
"So..." Harry swallowed hard, looking at the round bottle. "What about the potion to go back?"
"Also only one swallow." Hermione bit her lip, her eyes reddening. "The person who designed this calculated the dosage perfectly. This isn't just a logic puzzle; it's... it's a test of humanity."
Rove looked at the two bottles, then at Harry and Hermione.
A selection box popped up on the System interface:
> [Current Potion Inventory:]
> [Advance Potion (Mordor Pass): 1 dose]
> [Retreat Potion (Return to Shire): 1 dose]
> [Party Size: 3]
> [Logical Conclusion: Someone must stay behind.]
This was an unsolvable arithmetic problem. Three people, two doses. Danger ahead, a long road behind.
Harry and Hermione both looked at Rove. Their eyes were filled with helplessness and fear. In this underground maze of magic and monsters, they were, after all, just eleven-year-old children.
"I think I know what to do," Rove took a deep breath, breaking the silence.
He walked to the table, decisively picked up the round bottle, and handed it to Hermione. Then he pressed the tiny bottle into Harry's hand.
"Harry, drink the small one. Go stop whoever came in before us. This is your mission, Ring-bearer."
"Hermione, you drink the big one. Go back, get Ron out, and go to the owlery to send a message to Dumbledore. We need Gandalf."
"But what about you, Rove?" Hermione didn't take the bottle. She turned her head, looking at Rove in horror. "There's no potion for you! What will you do?"
"Yeah, Rove!" Harry was frantic too. "We can split it..."
"It's useless." Rove shook his head. "The dosage isn't enough. Splitting it will just get us all burned to ash."
He fell silent for a second, glancing at the roaring wall of purple fire.
"I don't need a potion."
"Are you crazy? You'll die here!" Hermione screamed, tears finally spilling over. "That fire... that's magical fire!"
"It is indeed powerful fire," Rove said, looking at the churning purple flames and feeling the heat wave hitting his face. "So I'm not going anywhere."
"I will guard this spot."
"Guard here?" Harry was stunned.
"If any enemies chase us, or if that half-conscious troll wakes up, or anything else..." Rove's voice echoed in the empty room. "If they want to go forward to find you, to interfere with you, they'll have to step over my corpse first."
> [Speech Check: Critical Success]
> [Acquired Buff: The Hero's Back (Charisma +5, Ally Morale +100%)]
In reality, Rove had calculated it clearly:
Behind the black fire was the final Boss battle (Quirrell/Voldemort). Going there was a death sentence; that level of combat wasn't something a "half-baked Maia" like him could interfere in. That was Harry's "Destined Duel."
He couldn't cross the purple fire either (not enough potion), and brute-forcing it meant death.
Staying here was actually the safest option.
1. He wouldn't have to face the Boss, nor the unknown risks outside.
2. If teachers (like Dumbledore) arrived to save the day, he, guarding the final checkpoint, would surely be rescued first.
3. There was a table here to use as cover.
But in Harry and Hermione's eyes, what a heroic, tragic decision this was!
He gave the chance of survival to his companion, the glory of advancing to Harry, and chose to stay in this dead zone filled with poison gas and fire, facing potential pursuers and loneliness alone.
"Rove..." Hermione sobbed uncontrollably. She rushed forward and hugged Rove tightly. "You are a great wizard, Rove Baggins. You are the pride of Hufflepuff."
"I am a warrior, my lady," Rove patted her back. "In war, someone always has to cover the rear. Go, don't let my sacrifice be in vain."
He pushed Hermione toward the purple fire. "Go, hurry!"
Hermione trembled as she drank the potion, took one last deep look at Rove, and then turned to walk through the purple flames.
"You go too, Harry," Rove said without looking back. "Don't look back."
Harry gripped the tiny bottle tightly, his palm slick with sweat. He looked at Rove's back. The figure, not particularly tall, looked like a towering mountain in his eyes at this moment.
"Be careful," Harry said with a tremor in his voice. "Wait for me to come back."
"Go, Frodo," Rove whispered, adding a sentence only he could hear, "This is my Helm's Deep."
Harry tipped his head back and drank the potion. Taking a deep breath, he walked resolutely into the black fire, his figure vanishing instantly into the flames.
Rove was left alone in the room.
The sound of the burning fire seemed to become clearer.
Rove maintained his heroic pose for a while. Once he was sure they were far gone, he let out a long sigh of relief and collapsed onto the floor like a deflated balloon.
"Exhausted..."
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pulled a squashed pumpkin pasty (snagged during dinner) from his robes, and took a vicious bite.
> [Stamina Recovering...]
"System, open tactical panel."
> [Current Quest Branch Update: Watch on the Lonely Mountain]
> [Objective: Hold the position until reinforcements (Dumbledore) arrive.]
> [Time Remaining: Unknown]
> [Hostile Unit Detection: None currently]
He set up a simple alarm trap at the door, dragged the alchemy table across the center of the room, and hid behind it.
"Come on, you monsters and freaks."
"Want to pass this door? Ask the guy in my hand if he agrees first."