CHAPTER 137: THE DWARF CRAFTSMAN ARRIVES

Bard smiled upon hearing Sylas’s praise.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, they got down to business.

Bard said, "The Dwarves wanted to contact you but had no direct way, so they handed the letter to me. They are in the city now. If you wish to see them, I will send someone to notify them immediately."

Sylas nodded. "Then I will trouble you."

Soon, Bard’s attendant led the visiting Dwarves into the Lord’s manor.

"Lord Bard."

"Wizard Sylas."

Balin, the Dwarf who entered, nodded in greeting to both.

"Long time no see, Balin. How are you?" Sylas asked with a warm gaze.

As the eldest among them, Balin was wiser and more composed than many of his kin, and Sylas had always held him in high regard.

Balin chuckled and nodded. "I am well. The Lonely Mountain has been reclaimed, Durin’s Folk have returned, and I no longer need to worry about being buried in a foreign land when my time comes. As for the craftsmen you require, we have prepared them. The journey from Erebor to Amon Sûl is long and dangerous, so we contacted you to come instead. Also, Lord Dáin Ironfoot has already forged the Dragon Armor and entrusted us to bring it to you."

Sylas’s eyes lit up.

"Are they all ready? Where are they?"

"They are in the Lonely Mountain," Balin replied. "If you wish, you can take them at once."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let us go now."

Impatience tinged Sylas’s voice. After bidding farewell to Bard, he took Balin on a Flying Broomstick bound for the Lonely Mountain.

Balin, experiencing the Flying Broomstick again, was delighted. Along the way, he asked after Bilbo and was pleased to hear his Hobbit friend had returned safely home.

Before long, they reached the great gates of Erebor.

The entrance had been restored to its former glory, with Dwarven guards standing in gleaming armor and warriors patrolling the battlements.

Since they were here, it was only right to see Thorin.

Led by Balin, Sylas entered the halls without trouble and soon reached the great throne room.

Unlike in the days when only Thorin and a few loyal companions remained, the halls now bustled with life. Dwarves from the Blue Mountains and those scattered across distant lands had returned, filling the Lonely Mountain with the proud clamor of a restored kingdom.

Thorin sat high upon his throne, with his nephew and heir, Fíli, standing beside him.

"Long time no see, King Under the Mountain, Thorin Oakenshield," Sylas said, leaning on his staff and inclining his head.

Thorin nodded in greeting. "Wizard Sylas, it has been long indeed, and your presence is as distinguished as ever."

He raised a hand, summoning the Dwarven craftsmen.

"In the past, I gave you my word that I would help you build a castle. Today I begin to fulfill that promise. I will send a thousand Dwarven craftsmen to follow you back and remain until the castle is complete. Also, my cousin, Dáin Ironfoot, has sent the Dragon Armor he forged, which I will entrust to you. Balin will take you to it."

Hearing this, Sylas could not help but smile.

"Thank you, Your Majesty Thorin," he said sincerely.

With so many skilled craftsmen, he was certain his Hogwarts Castle would soon stand complete.

Balin then led Sylas to the hall where the Dragon Armor was kept.

There, in the center of the room, stood an enormous suit of silver armor, crafted to fit a dragon from head to tail, every scale and limb protected.

The armor was assembled from several parts. With the Dwarves’ exquisite craftsmanship, the armor was flexible and moved freely. It was covered with patterns, reflecting dazzling silver light under the illumination of firelight.

The overall appearance was magnificent and majestic, exuding a powerful aura. If Smaug the Dragon were to wear it, it would be hard to imagine how imposing he would be.

Sylas looked at the massive armor, secretly clicking his tongue.

The Dwarves, how did they forge this armor that could be worn by a dragon? And how many tons of metal did they use?

No wonder it was placed in a spacious hall alone; a smaller room simply could not accommodate such a massive armor.

Fortunately, the armor could be separated into several parts, allowing Sylas’s space bag to barely fit the set of Dragon Armor.

After collecting the Dragon Armor, Sylas returned to the great hall.

The thousand Dwarf Craftsmen sent by Thorin had already been gathered, along with the tools and equipment they needed to bring.

It was unrealistic to trek so many people and things to Amon Sûl Tower.

Sylas looked at the dense crowd of Dwarf Craftsmen and said to Balin, "Can you give me a sturdy box? Not too big, the kind one person can carry."

Balin naturally did not refuse and had someone find an iron box.

Under the gaze of all the Dwarves, Sylas used the Undetectable Extension Charm to expand the interior space of the iron box countless times, until it could hold all the Dwarf Craftsmen.

He then waved his wand and conjured a ladder, placing it inside the box.

Sylas turned to the Dwarf Craftsmen, smiling as he invited them, "The journey to Amon Sûl Tower is too far, and walking would be impractical. So, I ask you all to enter the box for a while and come out when we reach our destination."

The Dwarf Craftsmen looked at the small box in front of them, exchanging glances, unsure whether to obey him. They could only look towards Thorin on the throne.

Thorin, of course, knew that Sylas possessed magic that could expand space, and immediately nodded to the Dwarf Craftsmen.

With the King’s approval, the Dwarf Craftsmen lined up one by one and entered the box.

The thinner Dwarves were fine, but some with large bellies got stuck at the box’s opening. Then, their companions waiting behind them gave them a shove from behind, causing a burst of laughter and curses from inside the box.

Soon, the first-floor hall became crowded and very noisy.

Dwarves always spoke loudly, and now with a thousand of them gathered together, it was a huge source of noise.

...

Poor Edward had never seen such a sight and was stunned, standing still and at a loss.

"Alright, everyone!" Sylas’s Sonorous Charm suppressed everyone’s voices.

Once everyone looked at him, he continued, "Everyone has arrived at Amon Sûl. Please settle down for now, and we will hold a welcome feast for you all tonight!"

Upon hearing about the feast, all the Dwarves’ eyes lit up; they loved feasts the most.

Originally, Sylas intended to have the Dwarves stay on various floors of the tower, as the tower had sixty floors, each with many rooms.

Even accommodating a thousand Dwarves would be more than enough.

And even if there were not enough rooms, he could expand them with the Undetectable Extension Charm.

But Balin refused, stating that they preferred to stay outside if there were tents.

Seeing this, Sylas had no choice but to conjure several tents outside the tower and expand their interior space with the Undetectable Extension Charm so that all the Dwarves could fit inside.

At night, Amon Sûl Tower was brightly lit.

Inside the first-floor hall, the infinitely expanded space accommodated over a thousand Dwarves and several hundred Hogsmeade Village villagers.

They all participated in the feast together.

When Sylas hosted a feast, the villagers, as his subjects, would spontaneously come to help.

Under the organization of Luke, the village chief, they divided tasks, taking charge as housekeepers, chefs, attendants, bakers, butchers, and more.

To avoid embarrassing their Lord in front of the guests, the villagers all tried their best to behave properly.

The atmosphere of the feast was just right, filled with laughter and joy everywhere.

Sylas sat at the head of the table, with Balin the Dwarf elder and Bilbo on his left, and Luke the village chief and Edward on his right.

On the long tables on both sides sat the Dwarf craftsmen and the villagers of Hogsmeade Village.

That’s right, Bilbo also attended the feast.

Upon receiving Sylas’s message, he immediately came to Amon Sûl Tower through the fireplace, choosing to sit with his old friend Balin.

The two reminisced about their adventures on the journey, while Sylas listened silently with a smile or exchanged a few words with Luke and Edward on the other side.

Seeing the Dwarves below drinking happily and singing, he smiled and waved his wand, conjuring countless musical instruments that automatically accompanied the Dwarves’ singing.

For a time, the feast’s mood soared, and the Dwarves applauded and cheered.

The villagers were not to be outdone and danced lively country dances.

Everyone was happy, except for the Dragon in the cellar, who was still sad about losing a bit more treasure.

Even a magnificent set of armor was no comfort.

The feast lasted until late into the night.

Bilbo had already returned to Bag End.

The villagers, illuminated by the moonlight, walked down the mountain path, still exhilarated from the feast, returning to their village with excitement and joy.

As for the drunken Dwarves, after returning to their respective tents, they still gathered together, singing and showing no signs of sleepiness.

Sylas stood by the tower window, looking at the scenes outside the tower and down the mountain, his eyes sparkling.

He felt that being a Lord was actually quite good.