The dwarves blinked, staring blankly at him.
Only after a long while did someone speak. "Oh! Mate, you don't sound very confident! Come on, give me a little more confidence, will you?"
"To kill Smaug, we'll need someone's help." An Yang stared at them.
"Who? Didn't you say you could kill him?"
"He's a mortal."
"Oh, can't you just tell us his name?"
"We'll meet him along the way," An Yang said calmly. "Now, carry on with your discussion. Whether or not you have a way to deal with Smaug, you'll set out anyway! No one can stop you. Since that's the case, why let so many wretched worries trouble you?"
"Huh?" Fili looked at An Yang in astonishment, then hastily nodded to declare his resolve. "Of course! Of course no one can stop us. No matter what, we will reclaim Erebor!"
"Perhaps he really does have a way to kill Smaug..." someone said quietly.
"Maybe, but at least he's absolutely right about one thing. Smaug cannot make us retreat in fear. Let's put the rest aside for now. Lads, have you decided to fight?"
"I'm always ready!"
Then the dwarves descended into chaos again, talking over one another as they shared their thoughts on the journey.
An Yang stood to one side without interrupting.
In fact... he barely listened.
Even when the dwarf prince Thorin spotted the crux of the matter at once, silenced everyone with a few words and left their expressions grave, then effortlessly roused their spirits until the dwarves burned with fervor, eager to throw themselves straight into battle, An Yang and Gandalf remained quiet spectators at the side. Even the Hobbit nearby seemed somewhat caught up in it.
An Yang, especially.
The dwarves' revival had nothing to do with him, and he already knew everything.