Incoming

"Over here."

"Damn, it stinks terribly in here."

"I can barely keep my eyes open."

"Are there really any treasures here?"

"We've reached the end of the cave. How come there's nothing here?"

"Wow, look what we found. A pile of those big brutes' shit, stinking, filthy straw, and the bones they left behind after eating. Is this the treasure we came looking for?"

"Where did Morgan go?"

"Damn, I really can't stand being here another moment."

"We've come all this way, so of course we should search properly."

"Wait, there seems to be another passage over there."

The clatter of footsteps and the Dwarves' overlapping voices sounded especially noisy in the otherwise silent Troll lair.

Morgan listened for a moment, then paid them no more attention.

The entrance to this Troll lair was enormous, and there were plenty of signs of Troll activity all around it.

As long as the Company wasn't stupid, they would definitely find this place.

The only difference was how long it would take.

Morgan had spent a little time earlier at the end of the outer lair.

He'd also taken some time just now to pick out various gems from the exquisite treasure chest he'd filled in the corner.

The Company found the place a little sooner than Morgan had expected.

He wasn't surprised.

His gaze returned to the high-elven sword in his hand, a fine weapon with a cross-shaped hilt.

After the dust was simply wiped away, the sword looked as clean and bright as if it had just come out of the forge.

Morgan was very pleased.

He casually took the Town Guard longsword that had hung at his waist for over two months and tossed it onto the ground.

Then he hung the high-elven sword at his waist.

"Finally, it's mine."

Morgan patted the sword in satisfaction, then turned back to the weapon rack and drew out the second sword, a long, single-edged blade.

"Phew."

Morgan blew on it.

The thick dust scattered through the air, and only then could he make out the sword's shape. It looked more like the ancient long sabers from Huaxia, back on Earth in his previous life.

Yes, even weapons shaped exactly like sabers were called swords in this world.

The single-edged sword was silver-white all over.

Its color looked richer than that of the sword hanging at Morgan's waist.

It had the same solid, high-quality feel.

"Shing!"

Morgan abruptly drew the sword.

Its gleaming blade was completely free of dust.

Just looking at the blade was enough to tell Morgan, without even testing it, that the sword was incredibly sharp.

It was a weapon, but also a work of art.

"Now that's a fine sword!"

Morgan couldn't help exclaiming.

"Shing!"

He sheathed the sword.

Just then,

the rest of the Company finally found their way inside.

"Morgan."

"What are you doing here?"

"So Morgan got here before all of us."

"I knew it."

The Dwarves walked into the cave and immediately spotted Morgan holding a sword. They called out at once.

Then they saw the gold and silver coins scattered across the floor, and, in the corner, an entire chest overflowing with enough gold and silver treasure to dazzle the eyes.

"I don't think leaving all this lying on the ground is a good habit."

"I agree. What a waste!"

"Then let's help the owner tidy it all up."

"Sounds like a good idea."

The Dwarves murmured as they stared at the gold and silver coins on the ground.

In the next moment, they bent down and began picking up the scattered coins at an incredible speed.

As the Dwarves at the front busily scooped up the coins, Gandalf, Thorin Oakenshield, white-bearded Balin, and the other key members finally came in behind them.

Morgan wasn't surprised at all by the Dwarves' behavior.

If he hadn't seen big money in his previous life, had already been well off, and known from the story in his memories about the mountain of treasure in the Lonely Mountain, he wouldn't have had the perspective or self-control to be immune to all this treasure.

Anyone seeing so much gold and treasure for the first time would have found it impossible to stay calm.

Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield were clearly exceptions.

They only glanced at the place before immediately focusing their attention on Morgan.

"Gandalf!"

Seeing Gandalf enter, Morgan raised his hand and tossed him the single-edged sword.

"Thorin!"

After throwing the first sword, Morgan drew the last sword from the dust-covered weapon rack. It was a little shorter, and he tossed it to Thorin Oakenshield, who was following close behind Gandalf.

"These don't look like weapons Trolls could forge."

Thorin Oakenshield caught the short sword, examined it briefly, and spoke at once.

He was of noble birth and well traveled. It was easy for him to tell that the sword Morgan had tossed him was no ordinary weapon.

"Nor does it look like something a human smith could forge."

Gandalf nodded, examining the single-edged sword for a while before slowly drawing the blade.

"They were forged in Gondolin."

"They were made by the High Elves in the First Age."

Gazing at the mark near the hilt, Gandalf slowly named the place where the sword had been forged and the people who had made it.

As he spoke, Gandalf looked up at the two of them.

To his surprise, as soon as Thorin Oakenshield heard him, he slid the short sword he'd already drawn back into its sheath.

After the argument that morning, Gandalf understood exactly what Thorin Oakenshield was worried about. He quickly said in a low voice,

"These are the finest weapons in the world. Nothing is better made!"

At Gandalf's words, Thorin Oakenshield looked distinctly hesitant.

Just then, Morgan lifted the sword at his waist and gestured to Thorin Oakenshield.

Only then did Thorin Oakenshield stop worrying about the fact that the short sword had been made by Elves. He drew it in one swift motion.

The blade gleamed coldly, clean and bright as new, its sharpness unmistakable!

Only after seeing the blade did a smile finally appear on Thorin Oakenshield's face.

"This is the greatest find we've made."

Morgan walked over to the two of them with the Elven Sword in hand.

"Indeed."

Gandalf smiled, took the sword, and examined it carefully. After a few brief remarks, he returned it to Morgan.

The Dwarves nearby had already cleared all the gold and silver coins off the ground and stuffed them into the exquisite chest.

"How should we divide it?"

"That's easy. We split it equally among everyone, of course."

"Good idea. Should we divide it now?"

"We still have a long journey ahead, and carrying it around won't be convenient. Why don't we bury it and come back for it later?"

"Carrying it would be a hassle, and we don't need it right now anyway."

"Fine by me."

"Then let's get to it."

The Dwarves discussed how to divide the treasure.

Seeing that none of the Company's key members had voiced an opinion,

they quickly reached a unanimous decision to bury the chest of treasure.

After the Company had thoroughly cleaned out all three Troll lairs,

they headed back toward their temporary camp.

Suddenly, another deep, terrifying howl rang out.

The expressions of every member of the Company changed abruptly.