"Boss, will they really follow us?" Morgan rode his pony, looking back every few moments, afraid of missing something.
After leaving the West Gate, they set foot on the eastward road. To their left, they could see the southeastern slopes of Bree-hill. In the gentler areas were houses and Hobbit-holes of Staddle, where most residents engaged in agriculture and grew quite famous pipe-weed.
In the deep hollow north of the road, faint rising smoke could be seen—that should be Combe village. Archet lay hidden in more distant woods. He wondered if the dwarves' trade had been completed successfully.
"Relax, Morgan." Aedric's boot gently touched his horse's flank. Redish understood and picked up the pace slightly. "Based on what you heard last night, they'll definitely come. The only question is whether it's one group or two."
A ruffian leader like Big Bill, upon learning his treasure map was real and someone could decipher it, would almost certainly bring his men in pursuit. Greed made people blind to death's threat.
As for the other group—the sinister-looking man—if he didn't come, Aedric could confirm he wasn't connected to Barbara. Ruthless bandits and slavers like them had no conscience whatsoever. They couldn't possibly pass up such a perfect opportunity for revenge, especially one involving treasure.
If they came, whether they were connected no longer mattered.
"What if nobody comes?" Morgan stopped looking back and instead urged his pony to follow the trotting Redish. "Wouldn't we have made this trip for nothing?"
"How could it be for nothing?" Aedric smiled. "First, based on Big Bill's actions, we can confirm that after a night's rest, they've calmed down and no longer hold such deep hostility. If so, I'll accept the sheriff position and deal with them properly over time."
"Second, Weathertop is one of Eriador's most famous landmarks. Having reached Bree, how could I not visit?"
"What's good about seeing a pile of old stones?" Morgan muttered quietly. "Even Derry, who's never traveled far, knows there's nothing there but ruins and wild grass."
Redish accelerated, hoofbeats mixing with the wind. Aedric didn't hear clearly and only turned to shout, "All right, we should speed up! In a few days, Luna will bring us definite news."
Two in the open, one hidden, plus other preparations—a simple plan to lure out their enemies. Now to see if Big Bill took the bait.
On their first day, they rode hard. Morgan and his pony could only eat the dust Radish kicked up when galloping. At sunny midday, they successfully reached the Forsaken Inn at Bree's eastern boundary. They ate something simple without stopping, then continued on, acting particularly urgent—as if real treasure awaited them ahead.
The second day, their speed decreased considerably. The first day's performance had been sufficient. No need to rush afterward and exhaust themselves—how could they fight potentially pursuing enemies then?
From midday onward, the roadside grew much more desolate. They had to travel many miles to occasionally spot a wisp of cooking smoke. At dusk, Aedric and Morgan rested at a manor, helping the master eliminate a nest of wild boars that were ruining his crops. The grateful farmer not only refused payment but also offered them the Dandelion family's friendship.
All of Bree's humans seemed to use plants as surnames. The reason was too ancient to trace—even Aedric's transmigrator memory held no relevant information.
Early on the third day, they departed again. The terrain gradually rose, surrounded by dense forests and endless wilderness. By midday, they could see a range of hills in the distance. The southern end's peak was highest, its top somewhat flat and hidden in clouds—details unclear. Those were the Weather Hills, and that summit was Weathertop.
But mountains always looked closer than they actually were. On the fourth day, Aedric and Morgan traveled all day with little visible progress. Several wild dogs showed interest in them, rushing aggressively from the forest before whimpering and dying at the roadside—a fatal mistake on their part.
On the fifth day, at dusk, they chose an abandoned ruin alongside the road to make camp, welcoming rare guests—dwarves from the Iron Hills heading to the Blue Mountains to visit relatives.
Curious, Aedric asked about Erebor's situation. The dwarves' faces darkened immediately—clearly the question touched a deep sorrow. But for the sake of campfire warmth, food, and drink, they answered briefly:
"Thick smoke billows daily from the kingdom's gates. Occasionally flames appear. Even birds dare not approach. Within a hundred miles of the Lonely Mountain is the dragon's hunting ground. Unless you're very lucky, never set foot there."
Having spoken, the dwarves lost interest in further conversation. Instead, they took out six-stringed and vertical harps. Under the cold moonlight, using the characteristically deep voices of their race, they sang a mournful song full of longing for lost beauty. This attracted an old wolf separated from its pack, which Morgan shot dead with his crossbow.
On the sixth day, the two groups exchanged information and parted in the morning sunlight. By midday, Aedric and Morgan approached the hills at last.
Undulating ridges ran north to south across the wilderness, the highest peaks almost piercing the clouds. Low points formed gaps and fissures like a beast's irregular black fangs. They left the road and climbed a gray-green path upward. The summit's ruins were now clearly visible.
Over a thousand years ago, Arthedain's king and Cardolan's prince had used the strong fortress built here to resist Angmar's invasion, ultimately dying on the spot from being outnumbered. Now, the buildings that once resisted darkness were nothing but grass-covered ruins. The remaining blackened stone walls stood as silent witnesses and final guardians.
Everything within the walls appeared blackened, even the earth seeming scorched by some great fire, showing no signs of life even now. No flowers or grass grew there—only scattered stones everywhere.
Aedric climbed to the wall's highest point. From this vantage, he gazed into the distance. A breeze came, bringing the scenery on all sides into view. Most areas were lifeless, empty and monotonous. Only to the south were there some distant forests. Further south, what appeared to be a river reflected the sunlight.
Bree-hill had completely vanished into the western wilderness. Only the East-West Road appeared and disappeared among forests and mountains, winding like a gray ribbon passing below before finally disappearing into the distant eastern highlands.
"Boss, is anyone following us?" Morgan looked up, asking loudly.
"We left a day early and prepared sufficiently. It'll take them at least another day to catch up." Aedric jumped down from the wall, looking at the scattered stones within. "However, we can prepare in advance."
"How?" Morgan's face showed confusion.
"Just follow my lead." Aedric smiled.
To climb Weathertop from the road, travelers first walked a long gentle slope of several hundred meters, then followed a snake-like winding narrow path upward. Reaching the top required at least five switchbacks, with an average height difference of about ten meters between each turn. Both sides were steep slopes. The path's end was a passage carved into the cliff, barely wide enough to accommodate a sturdy warhorse or two humans walking side by side. The cliff itself was over ten meters high.
When intact, it had been an absolute strategic chokepoint where one defender could hold off an army. But now the gate was rotten and the walls broken.
To prepare for a possible siege, Aedric moved rubble from inside the fortress, planning to completely block the passage. Morgan searched everywhere for fist-sized stones of appropriate weight to use as throwing ammunition. Stones this large, thrown with Aedric's current strength, would cause irreversible damage whether they hit fragile heads or the weaker bones of shins and arms—light injuries meant dizziness and broken bones, severe ones meant death on the spot.
They worked until sunset, then rested in the ruins' center around a campfire. Morgan cooked their food, eyeing the passage now stuffed with stones. "Boss, if Big Bill really pursues us and we do this, aren't we trapping ourselves on the summit?"
They'd prepared quite thoroughly, bringing a week's worth of food and water. But if truly besieged and unable to win, they would still die after a few days!
"What's difficult about that?" Aedric looked unconcerned. "You could wear that ring, then quietly descend with the rope, burn all their food, ambush them from behind, and eliminate them one by one. I'll cheer from above, attracting their attention. See? Quite simple."
"Stop joking." Hearing this, Morgan's face fell. "That ring only makes you invisible, not invincible. Big Bill's gang can't beat you, but they could beat me easily enough. Plus, they keep dogs. If they come, they'll definitely bring them." He looked panicked, forgetting to flip the nearly-cooked bacon. "Boss, you're not really planning this, are you?"
"Of course!" Aedric nodded firmly, then smiled. "Of course I'm joking. When you went to borrow Derry's horse that afternoon, I also found us some allies. As long as Big Bill really brings people out of Bree, they'll quietly follow behind him."
"So... they'll follow the people who are following us?" Morgan looked confused.
"Exactly. The hunter becomes the hunted. Big Bill will be so focused on chasing us, he won't notice anyone tracking him."
"Ah, I see!" Morgan relaxed and hastily flipped the sizzling bacon and toast. With a crack, he added a bird egg to the pan—from raiding a nest earlier that day. "Dinner's ready!"
Tonight, the moon was bright, illuminating the two figures busy on Weathertop. Stars like fireflies drifted through the summer night sky, flickering on and off, finally quietly fading as dawn approached. The eastern sky was split by white light.
This was Aedric and Morgan's seventh day on the road. That morning, they repaired the southern wall, creating several shooting holes. Morgan had brought his Black Thorn crossbow. He'd originally wanted Bree's blacksmith to refurbish it so it didn't look so menacing, but the man had refused.
First, the blacksmith didn't want to touch such evil-looking weapons, fearing bad luck. Second, he admitted dwarves were far more skilled with crossbows than he was. He could only provide crossbow bolts, since dwarves often passed through Bree and had taught him that much. As for refurbishment, he was afraid of disassembling the weapon and being unable to reassemble it properly.
In the end, Morgan had to give up and simply brought along a bag of bolts.
Near midday, a figure finally appeared on the deserted road below. She moved with incredible speed, her slender form shooting across the grass slope like an arrow, rapidly approaching Weathertop. Within moments she'd climbed the slope path and was walking steadily toward the summit.
It was Luna, who had been tracking Big Bill's group. The ten-meter cliffs flanking the passage were nothing to her. She lightly grasped protruding stones with seemingly effortless grace, and her body floated upward. With several powerful bounds, she landed steadily inside the stone walls.
"Aedric, they're coming—and there are many of them!" Even as she spoke, a mass of black dots surged from the western side of the road, making a tremendous commotion and raising large clouds of dust.
What kind of commotion was that? Watching the approaching figures, Aedric felt his eyelids twitch involuntarily.
"Big Bill brought seven men, plus three hunting dogs. Another group has twenty-three people. They're all mounted, carrying knives, swords, short spears, shields, and longbows. Those packs on their horses might contain armor as well." Luna calmly described the situation. "Aedric, they're definitely not ordinary ruffians and bandits."
Then she pointed toward the southern forest. "Besides them, we have other enemies approaching too."
Aedric looked where she pointed and saw black shapes leaping from the woods. They were huge and pitch black. Even before they drew near, bone-chilling howls carried across the distance. Wargs! A full forty or fifty—perhaps more—gathering together and forming a black torrent that swept across the wilderness toward Weathertop.
"What incredible trouble have I stirred up?" Aedric touched the beard that had recently sprouted on his chin, momentarily taken aback. Then he immediately recovered his composure and turned to his two companions. "Looks like we need to prepare for a serious battle."
Luna nodded, her expression calm. This was a manageable challenge.
Morgan looked nervous, his eyes fixed unblinking on the slope below, muttering, "So many people, plus dogs, plus wolves! Even wearing the ring won't help against all that."
"Relax." Aedric patted the Hobbit's shoulder with a reassuring smile.