Year 2960, North Undeep.
"Levi, I truly think 'River North' and 'River South' are excellent names—whether from geographical position or their own characteristics, they're quite suitable."
"Moreover, they're easy to understand while not lacking meaning."
By the riverside, Bard kept muttering beside him.
Meanwhile, Levi sat on a small stool with his back to Bard, silently fishing.
"If you mention this again, I'll get angry with you."
"Alright then."
Bard sighed, forced to give up on the topic.
No matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't figure out what was wrong with these names.
"Since our 'Lord of the North' has said so, of course I choose to comply."
Hearing this title, Levi felt another wave of discomfort.
It couldn't be helped—people always liked giving people titles, though this particular title did fit the actual situation quite well.
"Actually, if you directly crowned yourself High King of the North, no one would object."
"You don't need to worry about this matter, Ba... Gandalf?"
Levi suddenly turned around to see a grey-robed old man somehow already standing behind him.
Splash.
A sound came from the water. Levi lifted his rod—a salmon.
He tossed the fish into the water bucket.
"Nice weather today."
Gandalf sat down beside them, formally greeting, "Good afternoon."
"Nice weather?"
Levi and Bard both looked up to see murky, yellow-tinged clouds above them, mixed with unclean things, the sun blurry and unclear—as if separated by a grimy curtain.
This was already the Brown Lands' normal state.
No bright sunlight, nor clear skies.
Precisely because of this, orcs could roam across this land unimpeded, moving quite conveniently.
This was also within Sauron's expectations—or rather, this was his purpose in scorching the land.
Gandalf smiled. "I believe the clouds will disperse someday."
"Someday they will."
"Hard to say."
Levi held no hope for that distant future.
Look at the lush greenery surrounding these two riverside cities, with trees and grassland stretching endlessly into the distance.
The land was still fundamentally dead, lacking any real vitality. Besides the characteristic plants Levi provided, nothing else could survive here.
"Hmm?"
At this thought, Levi suddenly had a flash of inspiration.
Wait a minute!
If the Brown Lands' original soil won't work, I could transplant sod from elsewhere!
Then remove the topmost layer of poisoned soil, replace it with fertile earth, and let the new grass slowly spread outward—wouldn't that transform this into true green land?
"I've thought of some methods."
Levi added this matter to his to-do list.
Gandalf nodded. "It seems the next time I come, I will see two very different cities."
"Something to look forward to."
After discussing environmental issues, Gandalf brought up the previously skipped topic again.
"Not considering it? Becoming 'High King of the North,' commanding lords—this is a title many historical kings couldn't obtain even if they desperately sought it."
The title of High King wasn't something ordinary kings ruling just one tribal group had the right to use.
It represented extreme nobility in itself. Like the Chief of the Valar—Manwë, manager of Arda itself—his title was 'High King of Arda.'
"I can personally crown you. You would become Middle-earth's only High King."
Whether it was an illusion or not, Gandalf's warm, kindly words seemed to carry a subtle magic, tempting one to uncontrollably fantasize about such glory.
Even Bard was affected, his eyes distant.
Middle-earth's only current High King—what honor would that be?
"If I really wanted it, would I need your help?"
Levi broke this atmosphere with one blunt sentence.
Gandalf froze, immediately pouting like a scolded child.
"Fine, fine, fine—you don't need it."
The old wizard, clearly stung by this statement, stood up and acted like he'd leave in a huff.
But after just two steps, he turned back on his own.
"Really not considering?"
"I have no interest in such titles. Ask me again later."
"Good."
Hearing this non-refusal answer, Gandalf sat back down grinning. Where was his previous offended demeanor?
He said meaningfully, "You're still the same as before, not caring at all about things like power and authority."
"Power?"
Levi shook his head.
"It has no use to me. I don't desire such things either."
"If I must give a reason, I'd say: not interested."
Gandalf lit his pipe, took a long puff, and said, "Alright, Lord of the North—Lord Levi of nearly all northern lands."
"Also quite fitting, I suppose."
The name matched reality well enough.
"But one thing—if someday you change your mind, I'll support it."
This time the voice had no temptation whatsoever, just an ordinary warm tone.
Splash.
Another fish was caught.
A puffed-up pufferfish.
Levi didn't respond to the previous statement. He grabbed the pufferfish, waved it before Gandalf, saying, "This thing is more potent than the strongest liquor. How about I roast it for you to try later?"
"Oh really? I suggest leaving such exotic delicacies to yourself. This old man can't enjoy them."
Gandalf leaned back cautiously.
Think I haven't seen this thing before?
"What a pity."
Can only use it for brewing potions then.
Moments later, Levi's daily fishing activity ended. He set up a campfire on the spot, placing various caught fish on it to roast.
After a while, the fish were successively done. Gandalf picked up one closest to him, blew on it twice, and bit directly into it.
Very fragrant.
After eating a few bites, he temporarily set down the fish, saying, "I truly never imagined even the Brown Lands could have a piece occupied by you. For thousands of years this has always been the orcs' paradise."
"Now they can't be happy anymore."
"Indeed they can't."
Gandalf expressed agreement.
"The orcs' activity space was compressed yet again. Originally Rhovanion's wilderness was full of their presence everywhere you looked."
"But now, this is no longer the 'Great Wilderness'—it has a rightful claim and master."
The Kingdom of Rhovanion could be considered revived in another way.
However, it was no longer any independent kingdom but merely an administrative district—or calling it a 'province' was also fitting.
Looking at the map now—Gondor, Rohan, the Free Peoples' cities—an iron wall formed by free humans firmly blocked Mordor plus the massive threats from east and south, protecting many peaceful peoples behind them.
With the current situation, Sauron was definitely quite uncomfortable.
But it wasn't without potential breakthrough points...
Gandalf thought, looking up to see Levi sprinkling some seasoning on Bard's roasted fish. Bard bit into it with an expression of pure enjoyment.
"I came here specifically for this."
With this bite of roasted fish, fatigue from a morning's work received some relief.
Gandalf just looked at Levi without speaking further.
Moments later, after finishing their roasted fish, Levi and Bard stood aside. They looked at this brown land, discussing subsequent land greening projects.
Behind them, Gandalf held the seasoning Levi had given him, sitting there alone, eagerly watching the fish roasting by the campfire.
"Ents."
After Levi and Bard finished discussing proper business, Gandalf, who'd been silent, suddenly brought up a significant term.
Levi naturally knew what Gandalf was referring to.
Ents—the ancient tree-folk of Fangorn Forest. They are usually rooted into earth in tree form, falling into deep sleep—one sleep lasting thousands of years. Some slept and slept, never waking again, directly becoming true trees permanently.
Worth mentioning: Ents' combat power was quite formidable. They were stronger than trolls, sturdier than giant beasts, and could easily crush hard stones—punching iron to pieces was just ordinary for them.
Actually, trolls were clumsy, corrupted results created by Morgoth in imitation of Ents, just like orcs compared to elves—the gap between the two was devastatingly large.
After attracting Levi's full attention, Gandalf continued thoughtfully, "Though I know this isn't your main purpose—you might not even have considered it at all—I want to say, some good deeds always have good results."
"The Ents will learn of your actions from the earth itself."
"They will be delighted by what you've done here."