Azog’s Humiliation After Death, the War Ends

"I told you long ago, there was no need to play fair with Orcs." Aaron walked up to Thorin and said meaningfully, "I think you understand that now."

Thorin nodded helplessly. Then, supported by Fili and Kili, he raised his right foot, which had been pierced by a sharp blade. "This is a lesson. You saved me again."

"I’ve saved you more times than I can count along the way. One more doesn’t make a difference."

"Where’s Legolas? How is he?"

"He doesn’t need you worrying about him." Aaron pointed at a stone tower in the distance, suspended in midair yet constantly collapsing, and could not help sighing. "I’m ashamed of myself. When it comes to fighting, I’ve never seen anyone do it so elegantly."

Using the Elves’ unique agility, Legolas stepped lightly from one falling stone to another until he reached Bolg. Then, with a spinning scissor kick, he knocked Bolg down.

Both of them nearly fell off the cliff, but as they descended, they grabbed the stone wall and climbed back up at the same time.

When they clashed again, Legolas thrust his blade at Bolg, but Bolg caught his right hand.

He slowly raised his head and gave Legolas a provocative smile. Legolas returned it with a smile of his own, then pushed off a nearby stone and planted both feet on Bolg’s shoulders.

The dagger in his hand spun in a flourish, and Legolas viciously drove it into Bolg’s head.

Bolg’s eyes rolled back, and he completely lost consciousness.

The instant he fell, the stone tower finally gave way and collapsed. Legolas flipped backward onto solid ground, while Bolg was buried beneath rubble at the bottom of the cliff.

"It’s finally over." Gandalf let out a heavy sigh of relief. With Azog and Bolg gone, the Orcs had no leader and defeat was inevitable.

Without taking Erebor, it would be extremely difficult for Angmar to rise again. Sauron, too, could not make bricks without straw. Middle-earth would remain peaceful for a long time.

"Not quite." Aaron said meaningfully. "I think we should make use of what we have. For example, toss Azog’s corpse over to Dain."

Everyone: …

Damn! We were thinking too small.

"Isn’t that a little inappropriate?" Bilbo said awkwardly. "Even if he committed every evil imaginable in life, he’s already dead. And look at his expression—he clearly died with his eyes open."

"Bilbo, you’re still too softhearted." Aaron shrugged. "The education I received growing up taught me that enemies deserve neither sympathy nor pity. Against enemies, any means are acceptable."

"What sort of education did you receive?" Bilbo asked in astonishment, intensely curious what kind of family could raise a descendant into such an… elite.

"Uh… that’s not important. Thorin, you decide. Should we make use of Azog’s corpse?"

Thorin fell silent for a moment before nodding hesitantly.

Though he had avenged his grandfather and father, Azog had died too easily. Especially after launching that dishonorable sneak attack just now. Using his corpse to relieve some of the pressure on the Dwarves could count as atonement.

"Excellent!" Aaron snapped his fingers and waved his Wand at Azog’s corpse. "Wingardium Leviosa."

As the spell was spoken, Azog’s corpse flew down from Ravenhill. But instead of landing before Dain, it stopped above the battlefield, where a Great Eagle tore open its belly.

At the sight of Azog’s corpse, every Orc completely lost the will to fight.

Ever since the Great Eagles arrived, they had held little hope for victory and had even considered retreating. But without Azog’s order, they could only fight to the death.

Now that their supreme commander was gone, they could finally run—and do so without the slightest guilt.

Dain immediately seized the opportunity and loudly announced Azog’s death, declaring that he had been slain by the King.

The Dwarven army was instantly invigorated. Every one of them seemed possessed by a god of war. Forget Orcs—even if giant beasts stood before them, they would dare challenge them alone.

Looking down from Ravenhill, the group watched as the Dwarves, led by Dain, chased down and slaughtered the Orcs as easily as chopping vegetables.

"The facts prove I was right." Aaron looked slightly unnatural. He knew Azog’s corpse would have an effect, but he had not expected it to work so well.

In his original plan, driving the Orcs back into those enormous caves would have counted as a great victory. Yet Dain had directly sent men to block the cave entrances. How much strong liquor had he drunk to become this fierce?

At the same time, the Elf and Human allied forces charged out of River Valley City. Thranduil and Bard took the lead, adding two heavy weights to the scales of victory.

When the group descended Ravenhill, the Orcs had already been completely wiped out.

Thorin gave Dain a great hug, then turned to the leaders of the Elves and Humans and solemnly expressed his gratitude.

Though they had won this war, too many lives had been lost. The peace they had gained was bought with countless sacrifices of blood.

The victory celebration was scheduled for tomorrow. Before this day ended, they first had to gather the bodies of their people and pray for the fallen warriors.

Thranduil followed Thorin into the King’s Hall and successfully reclaimed the Elves’ national treasure, the White Gem.

"I don’t like Elves, but this is what the Dwarves owed you. Also, I apologize on behalf of my grandfather." Thorin said solemnly. "It may not be appropriate to say this, but he may not have been mentally sound at the time. I hope you can forgive him."

"We Elves have made too many sacrifices for this cursed place." Thranduil said expressionlessly. "I hope you do not become like your grandfather."

"I won’t." Thorin shook his head. Before his people, the Elves, and the Humans, he removed the Arkenstone from the throne. Then he looked at Aaron. "Gaius, as King of the Dwarves, I present this gem to you."

"To me?" Aaron was somewhat flattered. The Arkenstone was proof of the King’s authority, the equivalent of the Dwarves’ imperial seal. Was it really appropriate to give it to a Human?

"Take it." Thorin placed the gem in Aaron’s hand. "This gem has the power to tempt people’s hearts. I don’t dare pass it down to the next King. Among everyone I know, no one is more suitable than you."

"If you put it that way, then I’ll shamelessly accept it." Aaron grinned. "But you should prepare yourself. I’ll probably melt it down and forge it into a weapon."

"That would be even better. Do you need the Dwarves’ help? Dwarven smithing is undoubtedly among the finest in Middle-earth."

Aaron waved a hand in refusal.

The Dwarves’ forging skill was indeed impressive, but the weapon they made would probably be no better than Orcrist.

Besides, there was only one Heart of Lonely Mountain. It would be better to hand it to the Argus Ancestor after returning home. He was the professional.

As night fell, Aaron received the quest reward of two thousand Magic Points as he had hoped.

Just as he was about to open his personal panel, a warm sensation spread through his left arm.

He rolled up his sleeve and saw the Gaius Family crest faintly appearing and disappearing. It was the sign that he could return home.

At the sight of the familiar World Tree symbol, Aaron could not help twitching his nose. Then he burst into laughter, but as he laughed, tears began to stream down his face uncontrollably.

An endless sense of grievance surged into his heart. Heaven knew how he had endured these past six months. He had not eaten enough, had not dressed warmly enough, and every day he was either traveling or on the way to travel.

That much was fine. Having signed the contract, it was only right that he endure such hardships.

But what came afterward was too much: imprisonment, relentless pursuit, a battle against a dragon, and finally being dragged into a massive war.

This journey through another world had not been especially dangerous for him, but it had been thrilling to the extreme.

Calling it Hell Mode would be exaggerated, but it had definitely been at least Hard Mode.

He had thought returning home was still far in the distant future, yet this surprise had caught him completely off guard.

"Home, right now… No, there’s still one matter I need to deal with."

Aaron suppressed his excitement and lay down on the bed, preparing to get a good night’s sleep.

Today, he was undoubtedly more exhausted than anyone else. He had killed at least four-digit numbers of Orcs, but the drain on his magic and stamina had also been unprecedented. If he did not rest properly, his body would not hold up.

The next morning, at dawn.

Aaron woke from his sleep, washed his face quickly, and left his room.

But to his surprise, Bilbo also emerged from his room, his luggage already packed.

The two exchanged smiles without saying a word, then silently headed for the City Gate together.

"Are you going home?"

"More or less. I told Gandalf too." Bilbo smiled easily. "Thorin has inherited the throne, Bard has taken enough wealth to rebuild River Valley City, Thranduil has recovered his national treasure, and the Orc threat no longer exists.

It seems everyone has gotten what they wanted. It’s time for my journey to come to an end as well."

"Is that so? I was thinking the same thing."

Just as the two reached the City Gate, all thirteen Dwarves, including Thorin, were waiting there.

Gandalf walked up to them with a smile. "Forgive me for informing them."

"Even if you’re leaving, you should at least say goodbye to us." Thorin said, somewhat dissatisfied.

"I don’t really like farewells." Aaron pressed his lips together and lightly waved his Wand. A silver-white raven flew out. "But after I leave, my Patronus will tell you everything."

Bilbo stepped before the group and pondered for a moment. "If any of you happen to pass by Bag End, well… afternoon tea starts at four. There’ll be plenty of tea and snacks, and you’ll always be welcome. No need to knock!"

The Dwarves all smiled knowingly and bowed to Bilbo Baggins, just as they had when they first stood in Bag End and said, "At your service."

Under the gaze of the thirteen Dwarves, Aaron, Bilbo, and Gandalf each mounted a pony and slowly rode toward The Shire.

But just after leaving the bounds of Lonely Mountain, a white horse blocked their path.

"Prince Legolas." Gandalf asked in surprise. "Did King Thranduil send you?"

"No, this has nothing to do with my father. I’m here for him." Legolas looked meaningfully at Aaron. "I trust you still remember what you promised me."