"No, Gandalf."
An Yang's figure appeared at the doorway of the dining room. He looked calmly at Gandalf and Thorin, and said, "The Woodland King is too arrogant and conceited. If I tell him directly that I need him to lead his noble and powerful elven army to fight a defensive battle for the Lonely Mountain against an Orc army vastly outnumbering their own, he certainly won't agree. But you know what this means."
A faint light flickered in Gandalf's eyes as he muttered, "The Orcs will capture the Lonely Mountain, and they'll use this natural barrier as their fortress to attack Middle-earth, breaking down all the powers in the world one by one."
"Breaking them down one by one isn't certain, but in any case, the Woodland Realm is adjacent to the Lonely Mountain, so they'll definitely bear the brunt of it. I'm afraid that before Middle-earth can unite to fight the Orcs, they'll already have been wiped out." An Yang walked over and patted Gandalf on the shoulder. "From that point of view, I'm helping them."
"Oh, you certainly have a way with words."
"Then what about you? Gandalf, are you ready to handle this great battle?" An Yang asked with a smile.
"How big is this battle?" Gandalf picked up his pipe and took a puff. His aged eyes, however, revealed a hint of smiling cunning, unhurried and steady.
Seeing this, An Yang stopped asking further.
Gandalf, on the other hand, stopped eating. While smoking his pipe, he asked, "Now the Woodland Elfs are stationed in Dale. Although it's close to the Lonely Mountain, there's still some distance after all. When the Orc army arrives, if Thranduil doesn't want to participate in the war, he can also retreat leisurely. How can you be certain he'll stay and