The moon was dark, the wind was fierce, and murderous intent filled the air.
An Yang held the branch pretending to be a staff in his left hand and the battle-axe Dwalin had lent him in his right. He was not necessarily faster than the short-legged dwarves, but since he had been the first to charge out, he was still in the lead!
The great trees in the forest swept past one after another. The fallen leaves felt soft beneath his feet, and branches or low shrubs occasionally caught on him with a ripping sound.
An Yang ignored them and sprinted ahead.
In his sharp gaze, there were only the three ugly trolls!
The dwarves had been slowed by their initial hesitation. Now they were unwilling to let An Yang remain ahead of them, and one by one they charged at the three trolls as if their fighting spirit had been ignited. Their short figures moved like shadows through the darkness. When they were twenty meters from the trolls, they scattered, using the dense forest as cover to split into several groups and surround the trolls!
At the same time, the trolls were alerted by their roars. They looked at the thin Baggins in astonishment, then turned toward the dwarves.
"Dwarves!"
"What do we do? Dwarves don't taste good!"
"Stupid, we're going to fight!"
"Oh... roar!"
The three trolls immediately picked up their weapons. They no longer paid attention to Baggins and faced in all directions, preparing to fight these uninvited guests!
An Yang was still the first to reach the trolls, but he stepped onto a large rock beside him. Using his momentum and the rock, he suddenly leaped into the air and lunged straight at one troll's face.
"Slash!"
The sharp battle-axe carved a bloody wound across the