At the Gates, Yet Still Stingy

Aaron took out the Dragon-Slaying Magic Crystal. To him, its crimson glow was incomparably scorching.

Dragon-Slaying Magic—magic meant to confront dragons.

If he had learned this magic a day earlier, he definitely would not have fought so hard last night. He might even have had the confidence to face Smaug head-on.

"System, it won’t hurt too much to fuse with the Dragon-Slaying Magic Crystal, right?" Aaron asked worriedly.

"The host may choose not to fuse with it."

Aaron: …

Well, that was a pointless question.

He had worked so hard to activate the Dragon-Slaying Magic Crystal. How could he give up over a little pain?

"Then do I need to make any preparations? Like enough food, enough time, a safe location, and so on?"

"As long as the host can endure it, none of that is necessary."

Aaron fell silent for a long while before finally making up his mind.

First, he cast a Silencing Charm on the room, then set up a layer of defensive barriers. He left no place untouched—the door, walls, floor, even the ceiling.

Only after feeling a faint sense of security did he pick up the Dragon-Slaying Magic Crystal and silently will himself to absorb it.

As the crimson crystal slowly merged into his body, agonizing pain flooded every inch of him. It felt as if every inch of skin had been soaked in boiling lava.

The tearing pain twisted his face and made him tremble without end. Sweat quickly soaked through his clothes.

"Damn it… this is definitely way more intense than the Cruciatus Curse." Aaron gritted his teeth and endured without making a sound, but before long, darkness swallowed his vision.

The next morning, Aaron finally opened his eyes in a daze.

The memory of yesterday’s experience made him shudder uncontrollably. It had completely shattered his understanding of pain.

He checked his clothes. They were perfectly intact; there had been no awkward nakedness.

Standing before the mirror, he saw no obvious change in his appearance, but upon closer inspection, he seemed to have gained a trace of composure.

"System, open my personal panel."

"Certainly, host."

Host: Aaron Gaius

Magical Energy: 9564 (High-level Archmage, a top-tier combatant in the Magic World)

Talent: Once in a Lifetime (Magical Energy increases by 4 points every day)

Items: Moon Drop (can remove any negative curse), Resurrection Potion (can revive any creature that died within one hour), Magic Carpet

Magic Points: 310

"My talent has completed its transformation?" Aaron raised his eyebrows in surprise, though it also made perfect sense.

The Dragon-Slaying Magic Crystal had given him more than just Dragon-Slaying Magic; it had greatly improved his physique as well.

His physical strength was now more than twice what it had been before. If he traded blows with an Ogre again, he was fully confident he could smash it to pieces.

He spread out his palm, and a ball of crimson flame burned above it.

The temperature was extremely high, yet he felt no pain at all. Instead, it felt somewhat warm.

Fire Dragon-Slaying Magic?

Aaron was slightly dissatisfied with this attribute. Fire was the most common element; most dragons’ Dragon Breath was flame.

But looking at it from another angle, this was not bad either. At the very least, dragons would pose a much smaller threat to him.

And aside from basic moves such as Roar, Iron Fist, and Wing Attack, he had also mastered a Dragon-Slaying Secret Art. That was an unexpected bonus, saving him the time and effort of developing moves himself.

As for the deeper power of dragons, he still could not awaken it. His magic power probably needed to rise another one or two levels first.

"Thank you, Smaug." Aaron silently mourned Smaug for three minutes, then proceeded with today’s sign-in.

The moment he opened the door, Bilbo hurried over. "Thank goodness, you’re finally awake."

"What is it? Did something happen while I was asleep?"

"Thorin blocked the City Gate with stones."

"Isn’t that normal?" Aaron said indifferently. "This was originally a Dwarf city. Whether they repair the gate or tear it down, it’s none of our business."

Bilbo’s face twitched. "Under ordinary circumstances, perhaps. But that gate has shut out all the residents of Long Lake Town. You came from Long Lake Town, so you should know they have already lost their homes. Hundreds of refugees have gathered in the ruins of Dale, but Thorin has no intention of helping them."

Aaron frowned slightly and remained quiet for a moment before saying, "That’s understandable."

"What?" Bilbo stared at Aaron in astonishment. "That’s hundreds of lives! Bard’s family is among them too."

"I know, but Thorin isn’t wrong to do this. Erebor doesn’t have much food or water. There is barely enough for us to hold out for a while, but it would be nowhere near enough for the refugees. This city has plenty of space to live in, but the treasure is real enough. Can you guarantee that after Thorin lets them in, they’ll obediently follow orders? Don’t forget how those townspeople behaved the night before we left. Their desire for gold is no less than anyone else’s."

Hearing that, Bilbo swallowed. "Surely it won’t come to that!"

Aaron could not help but sneer. "Is ‘surely’ really appropriate at a time like this? If Erebor were still the glorious Dwarf Kingdom, with a powerful army, there would naturally be nothing to worry about. I would personally urge Thorin to take in those refugees. But there are only a dozen or so of us in this city. What if they turn on us and drive us out? Human greed is the hardest thing to predict. They might be grateful when they first come in, but who can guarantee they won’t start coveting the Dwarves’ treasure afterward? Who can guarantee they won’t take over the nest and treat Erebor as their new home?"

Bilbo opened his mouth, only to find himself speechless.

Thorin had only just reclaimed Lonely Mountain. He would never allow any uncertain factors inside.

"So we just watch? Watch them starve and freeze outside?"

"We can provide them with warm clothing and charcoal for heating," Aaron said solemnly. "That will be enough to help them survive the harsh winter. It would be doing all we reasonably can."

Bilbo sighed and nodded silently.

But then he suddenly remembered something and immediately said, "Right, there’s something even worse. There’s an Elven army outside too."

"…What the heck!"

Aaron could no longer remain calm. He had thought that after killing Smaug, they would at least get a few peaceful days.

Erebor would have to face an invasion by evil forces afterward, but at least they should have had some time to recover.

Once Thorin inherited the throne and gathered the Dwarf army, they might not have been unable to weather this crisis.

But he had never expected an army to be stationed outside on the very next day—and it was the Dwarves’ former Elven allies. Life really was unpredictable; one disaster piled right onto another.

Not daring to delay, Aaron quickly followed Bilbo up to the city wall.

When he saw the opposite side of River Valley City packed with Elves clad in golden armor, Aaron felt his head buzzing.

Damn it! Thranduil’s timing was way too precise!

At this speed, he had probably dispatched his army the moment Smaug died.

"Welcome, my friend." Thorin smiled at Aaron. "I knew you were tired, so I didn’t notify you when we built the city wall yesterday."

"Uh… thanks." Aaron gave an awkward laugh, then looked across at the army. "What’s going on?"

"It is merely the vile Elves trying to seize the fruits of victory," Thorin said dismissively. "But Thranduil has underestimated the Dwarves. His scheme is destined to fail."

"Thorin, you may not like hearing this, but I have to say it. There are only a dozen of us, while there’s an army outside. We can’t beat them."

"Yes, exactly. We’re badly outnumbered." Bilbo nodded in agreement. "We should avoid war as much as possible. If we can negotiate peace, I suggest—"

"Impossible." Thorin cut Bilbo off directly. "They have already come to our gates. This is coercion. The Dwarves will never compromise."

Bilbo immediately felt exhausted. He could not understand where Thorin got such overwhelming confidence.

At that moment, the sound of hoofbeats came from across the way. Bard rode alone toward the City Gate on a white horse.

"Hail Thorin, son of Thrain," Bard said to the people on the city wall. "Seeing you alive is a most welcome surprise."

"Why have you come before the city of the King under the Mountain to challenge an enemy?" Thorin asked flatly.

"Why is the King under the Mountain hiding behind his walls like a turtle with its head tucked in?"

"Because I fear bandits may come to plunder."

"My king, we have not come to plunder you. We only wish to resolve matters. Do you not intend to speak with me?"

Thorin paused, nodded faintly, and walked down from the city wall.

"This man has most likely come to collect a debt." Aaron smiled meaningfully. "But he has every right to collect it."

"What debt?" Bilbo asked in confusion.

"A king’s promise." Aaron shrugged and followed him down the stairs.

Bilbo also remembered the promise Thorin had made in Long Lake Town and nodded thoughtfully.

Bard came beneath the city wall and began speaking with Thorin through a City Gate built from piled boulders.

Thorin leaned against the gate, showing Bard only his profile. "I’m listening."

"On behalf of all the people of Long Lake Town, I demand that you honor your promise and share a portion of the wealth so we may rebuild our homes."

"There was no promise," Thorin said, shaking his head in refusal as he looked provocatively at Bard. "Because your people have brought an army to our gates."

"Thorin," Aaron could not help interjecting, "I have to remind you that you made that promise in the name of the Dwarf Prince."

Thorin waved him off. "Let him finish."

"Our demands are reasonable," Bard said. "My people aided you, but what you brought them was destruction and death."

"Reasonable?" Thorin asked. "You did it for a generous reward—both you and those townspeople."

"It was a fair trade," Bard said urgently.

"You mean trading dignity for blankets and food, just to survive and continue on?" Anger colored Thorin’s voice. "Is that fair? We had no choice. So tell me, Bard the Dragonslayer, why should I honor those terms?"

"Because it was your promise to us. Is it worth nothing?"

Thorin lowered his head, avoiding Bard’s gaze. After pondering for a moment, he said, "Go away, or I’ll shoot you dead with an arrow."

Bard closed his eyes in disappointment. "You are provoking war. You are forcing us to fight our way up the mountain."

"Wait, Bard." Aaron hurriedly stopped him. "Give me some time. I will persuade him."

Bard looked deeply at Aaron. "I will do my best to dissuade King Thranduil, but you had better convince Oakenshield before today is over."