Bear School Astartes

Chapter 1097 - 1078: Advancing the Plan

The Elf King called out without turning his head, only to discover his son did not respond to him.

He turned his head in astonishment, only to see an officer standing awkwardly at the front of the military formation.

Even the luxurious gold armor in the elegant Elven style couldn’t hide the awkwardness and unease of this Elf.

"Your Majesty..." the tense and awkward Elf officer said to the King, "the Prince, he rode away."

"It happened as you began your conversation with Yadanisil."

Thranduil opened his mouth: "What is he planning to do now?"

"The Prince said he wanted to pursue the Beastman Commander who escaped last night, feeling it has been delayed too long and that he would lose track if he didn’t go now."

"Selas, why didn’t you stop him!"

The Elf officer gave an embarrassed smile.

Legolas, seeing his father turn to speak with others, quietly walked to the back of the formation, then got on a horse and rode away into the distance.

What could he do? Could he possibly shoot the horse the Prince was riding?

Thranduil pressed his temples in frustration, ruffling his smooth white hair slightly.

Bard and Lann wisely remained silent at this time, even stepping aside a little.

Fortunately, Thranduil knew in his heart that his previous conservative defense policy in the Woodland Kingdom was not favored by Legolas and Tauriel.

They were too young, just over two thousand years old, full of youthful vigor and hatred for evil.

There was nothing wrong with that, for Elves are inherently good-natured beings. Their revulsion towards evil and innate sympathy and empathy for the weak are almost instinctual.

Thus, after witnessing the actions of the Beastmen and the overnight destruction of Long Lake Town, it was understandable that Legolas became a bit unruly. Thranduil had anticipated this.

But...

"I had intended for Legolas to lead a team of archers to assist you in your dragon-slaying endeavor. But I didn’t expect he would lose the patience to even hear me out."

Upon hearing this, Bard’s face darkened again, as they were on the verge of persuading the Woodland Kingdom’s Elf King to lend a helping hand, yet the help departed.

However, Thranduil then changed his tone, lowering the hand that had been massaging his temples.

"A top-notch archer paired with a team of ordinary archers, that was the support I initially planned to offer, because mere numbers mean nothing against an evil dragon. But now that Legolas is gone... hmm."

Thranduil exhaled deeply: "Then I shall go myself!"

Bard widened his eyes and looked up.

Thranduil met the gaze of the human archer unflinchingly.

"Ha, do you really think I’m one to be afraid of combat?"

"Previously, there was merely no opportunity, nor was there a surefire method. Would I have let this wicked beast rampage in the north for so long otherwise?"

Having said that, Thranduil had no intention to explain further, turning and riding his majestic stag to the front of the Elf formation.

He began handing over tasks and giving orders to the Elf officer.

"Leave twenty men with me, and take the rest back to the Dark Forest to guard the kingdom’s borders."

"Against the evil dragon, there’s no need for so many; a decisive strike doesn’t require such a grand spectacle. If we fail, you must be prepared to deal with the dragon’s retaliation."

None of the Elves objected. Their orderly formation stood solemn and strict before Thranduil, eyes straight ahead.

A king of an Elf Kingdom, ensuring his nation’s continued existence through several ages.

Upon seeing the Elf Army’s stance towards Thranduil, Lann and Bard understood.

Thranduil could not be a king who shies away from battle.

He simply had no interest in matters outside his realm before.

Now, with the opportunity to eliminate Smaug, he was quick to set his plans in motion.

Even if it meant putting himself back on the battlefield against the dragon that once scorched him, he wouldn’t back down.

Thranduil’s authority in the Woodland Kingdom is unrivaled.

Thus, the Elves originally standing in orderly rows by the shores of Long Lake Town soon retreated smoothly and systematically, leaving only the number specified by Thranduil, along with supplies sent for the townsfolk.

"The Dwarves left yesterday; therefore, at worst and fastest, Smaug will rush out of its old lair tonight."

For the first time, Thranduil dismounted his stag. His exquisite and sturdy armor clinked, the white hair laying on his black cloak merging confusingly with the original silver-threaded pattern.

At his waist hung a long blade of Elven design, resting his hand on its hilt.

Thranduil and Lann exchanged glances, discussing plans with each other.

The image of these two standing together, even framed directly into an oil painting, wouldn’t seem out of place.

Regardless of the mediocre background and lighting.

The pinnacle of aesthetic character portraits is nothing less than this.

At least Bard felt somewhat out of place standing there.

"Time is of the essence."

Thranduil remained expressionless as he spoke.

"I agree," Lann echoed, "so we’d better start doing something now."

The Elf King waved his hand without looking back, immediately leading the twenty archers who had stayed behind to follow Lann and Bard into the town.

The plan set earlier by Bard and Lann would not change; the survivors of Long Lake Town still had to head to the ruins of River Valley City.

First and foremost, the buildings there were made of solid stone, providing shelter from the wind and rain. In the current temperature with large patches of floating ice on the lake, it would keep the townspeople’s body temperature stable.

Secondly, if Smaug really emerged as described in the prophecy to rekindle the flames of war over the Long Lake.

It would surely be an act of venting anger and slaughter.

After its several ravages in this area, only Long Lake Town remained. Due to its somewhat distant location from the Lonely Mountain and its lack of gold, even the limited population didn’t attract Smaug’s interest in launching a massacre.

Once it was enraged, its slaughter target would certainly fixate first on Long Lake Town, flying towards it.

Yet River Valley City, although closer, was already a ruined place it had conquered and slaughtered, thus unlikely to catch Smaug’s attention again.

"Every house structure still standing in Long Lake Town and every street should be lit with lanterns."

Walking through the ruins charred into cinders, Lann offered his input on the plan.

Thranduil and Bard listened intently.

"We must make Smaug believe there are still many people here; merely destroying a heap of lifeless buildings would not grant the dragon any pleasure."

Thranduil commented casually as he observed Long Lake Town.

"It is a wicked race created by Morgoth to defeat the Valar and noble life, by its very nature."

"Remember, when your people are seeking refuge in River Valley City, ensure not to light even a spark in open spaces!"

"The dragon’s perception is sharp, its mind quick. If it sees light within the long-deserted River Valley City, none of us can predict its next move."

Thranduil’s earlier words were in response to Lann, then followed by a cautionary note to Bard.

At such an urgent moment, Bard couldn’t care to refute the Elf King’s words; he simply nodded heavily and seriously to show his understanding.

The state and image of Long Lake Town were even worse than usual.

Thranduil’s presence here made Bard feel a tinge of unease due to the stark contrast in demeanor and comportment between the Elf King and the ruined town.

Lann’s demeanor and comportment were equally extraordinary, but due to his approachable nature, he seemed easy to get along with, making Bard not feel this way when previously walking with him.

However, Thranduil himself appeared utterly indifferent to the surroundings here.

Because he was now viewing this place with the mindset of observing a predetermined battlefield.

On a battlefield, not even elves would naïvely believe in the importance of aesthetics or comfort.

In the past, during the decisive alliance battle, Thranduil had invaded the heart of Mordor, where Beastmen had entrenched and ravaged it for a long time, a situation much worse than Long Lake Town.

"Hey! Bard, Lann!"

As they walked, a raucous voice calling their names approached.

It was the dwarves left behind in Long Lake Town yesterday.

Philipp was helping his brother Qi Li; Qi Li’s leg injury seemed to endanger his life yesterday, yet he now managed to walk on his tiptoes.

"Is this considered healed? What remarkable efficacy."

Lann extended congratulations to the dwarves, while Thranduil slightly raised his hand, causing the twenty Elf Archers following him to halt in unison, quietly observing from behind.

"Elven medicine, combined with King’s Leaf Sword Grass, works wonders, hey!"

Ouin, with a copper megaphone in his ear, waved his hand, appearing quite pleased.

Bofur chimed in from the side: "It’s a pity that the she-elf was a bit ugly; not a trace of beard on her face and so slender, she barely has any strength... hey!"

Bofur’s words were abruptly cut off as Qi Li threw a light punch on his shoulder from behind. Turning back, puzzled and displeased, Bofur asked.

"She saved my life; could you not speak ill behind her back, hmm?"

Qi Li expressed his discontent, and Bofur quickly raised his hands, signaling he would not speak further. He was one to value reason and acknowledge kindness, though dwarves commonly spoke their minds.

After Qi Li and Bofur finished their banter, Philipp addressed Lann and the group behind him.

"Are you... moving the townspeople out?"

As his gaze swept over Thranduil leading the elves, a flash of vigilance and resistance flickered in this dwarf’s eyes.

"Yes, this place is uninhabitable, especially now with the severe cold. We plan to head to the ruins of River Valley City to see if a residential area can be cleared."

Bard, with a bow and a newly wrapped black arrow on his back, spoke to Philipp.

Listening, the dwarves exchanged glances, delighted.

"To River Valley City? It’s on the way to the Lonely Mountain! You saved us last night, come, we can help you carry luggage!"

Saying that, a few dwarves enthusiastically rushed into the crowd of townspeople to start working.

Lann watched the jubilant dwarf backs and approached Thranduil.

Bowing slightly, he leaned in to ask.

"Dwarves and elves have always been at odds, but I heard that the Lonely Mountain Dwarves have a particular grudge against the elves of the Woodland Kingdom? Is there a story behind this?"

Thranduil shrugged it off with a cold smile and lightly brushed away the cloak draped over his front.