The Attack [Seeking Recommendation Tickets]

"This way."

"Damn it, it stinks in here."

"I can barely keep my eyes open."

"Are there really treasures here?"

"We've reached the end of the cave, why is there nothing?"

"Whoa, look at what we've found—dung from those big brutes, filthy, stinking straw, and the bones they left behind. Is this the treasure we're looking for?"

"Where did Morgan go?"

"Damn it, I can't stay here for another second."

"We've already come this far, of course we have to search properly."

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

The messy footsteps and the mixed voices of the dwarves sounded exceptionally loud in the deathly silent Troll lair.

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

The entrance to this Troll lair was massive, and the surrounding area was filled with traces of Troll activity.

As long as the members of the Company weren't fools, they were bound to find this place.

The only difference was how long it would take them.

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

He had also spent some time picking through various gemstones in the exquisite chest filled with treasure in the corner.

The Company had arrived here a bit faster than Morgan had anticipated.

He wasn't surprised, though.

His gaze returned to the cruciform Elven Sword in his hand.

Looking at the blade, which appeared as bright as if it had just been forged after he simply wiped away the dust, Morgan was very satisfied.

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

Then, he buckled the Elven Sword to his waist.

"Finally got it."

Morgan patted the sword in satisfaction, then turned his gaze back to the weapon rack and drew a second, single-edged longsword.

"Hoo."

Morgan blew on it.

As the thick dust flew away, Morgan could clearly see the longsword, which looked more like the ancient blades from the China of his past life on Earth.

Yes, even if it was shaped entirely like a saber, it was still called a sword in this world.

The single-edged longsword was also silver-white throughout.

The color looked deeper than the sword now hanging at Morgan's waist.

It was equally textured and high-quality.

"Shing."

Morgan drew the longsword with a sharp motion.

The cold, gleaming blade was completely free of dust.

Just by looking at the edge, Morgan knew without testing it that this longsword was incredibly sharp.

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

"A fine sword!"

Morgan couldn't help but exclaim.

"Clack."

The longsword returned to its scabbard.

Just then, the other members of the Company finally found their way in.

"Morgan."

"How are you here?"

"So Morgan was faster than all of us."

"I knew it."

As the Company walked into the cave, the first thing they saw was Morgan holding the longsword, and they immediately began to clamor.

Then, at a second glance, they saw gold and silver coins scattered all over the floor, and in the corner, an entire chest of gold and jewels that dazzled the eyes.

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

"I think so too, it's such a waste."

"Then let us clean them up for the owner."

"Hmm, that's a good idea."

The dwarves muttered to themselves, staring at the gold and silver coins covering the floor.

Immediately, these dwarves began to bend down and pick up the scattered gold and silver coins with unparalleled speed.

A group of dwarves in the front kept digging for coins on the ground.

Gandalf, Thorin Oakenshield, the white-bearded Balin, and several other key members who had been following behind finally walked in.

Morgan was not at all surprised by the behavior of the dwarves.

If he hadn't seen great wealth in his past life, didn't lack money himself, and hadn't known from his memories of the plot about the mountain-like treasure in the Lonely Mountain, he wouldn't have had the discernment or the composure to be somewhat immune to these riches.

For an ordinary person seeing so much gold and treasure for the first time, no one could remain calm.

Gandalf and Thorin Oakenshield were clearly exceptions to this.

They only swept a glance over the small items before immediately fixing their eyes on Morgan.

"Gandalf."

Watching Gandalf walk in, Morgan raised his hand and tossed the single-edged longsword he was holding toward him.

"Thorin."

After throwing one sword, Morgan drew the last, slightly shorter sword from the dust-covered weapon rack and tossed it to Thorin Oakenshield, who was following closely behind Gandalf.

"This doesn't look like a weapon a Troll could forge."

Thorin Oakenshield caught the short sword, examined it for a moment, and spoke immediately.

He was of noble birth and possessed extraordinary knowledge, so he easily sensed that the sword Morgan had thrown him was no ordinary item.

"It doesn't look like it was forged by human blacksmiths either."

Gandalf nodded in agreement, studied the single-edged longsword for a good while, and then slowly drew the blade.

"They were forged in Gondolin."

"Forged by the High Elves of the First Age."

Gazing at the mark on the hilt of the blade, Gandalf slowly revealed the place where the longsword was forged and the masters who had crafted it.

As Gandalf spoke, he looked up at the two men.

He did not expect that upon hearing his words, Thorin Oakenshield would immediately sheath the short sword he had just drawn.

Having experienced the argument that morning, Gandalf understood exactly what Thorin Oakenshield was concerned about, and he quickly said in a deep voice:

"These are the best in the world; there are no finer weapons than these!"

Hearing Gandalf's words, there was clear hesitation on Thorin Oakenshield's face.

At this moment, Morgan picked up the Elven Sword hanging at his waist and gestured toward Thorin Oakenshield.

Only then did Thorin Oakenshield stop worrying about the fact that the short sword was forged by Elves, and he drew it once more.

The blade caught the light, cold and keen, bright as new, and bitingly sharp!

Looking at such a blade, a smile finally appeared on the face of the discerning Thorin Oakenshield.

"This is the greatest harvest of this trip."

Morgan walked toward the two men, holding the Elven Sword.

"Indeed, it is."

Gandalf smiled as he put away the longsword, took the one Morgan handed him, examined it carefully, and after saying a few simple words, returned it to Morgan.

The dwarves on the side had already cleared away all the gold and silver coins scattered on the ground, stuffing them all into the exquisite treasure chest.

"How should we divide this?"

"That's simple enough, of course, we split it equally among everyone."

"Good idea, should we divide it now?"

"We still have a long journey ahead; it's not convenient to carry these. Why don't we bury them and come back for them later?"

"It is indeed inconvenient to carry, and besides, we have no use for them right now."

"That works, I don't see a problem with that."

"Then let's get to it."

The group of dwarves discussed the matter of dividing the treasure.

They noticed that the key members of the party had not yet expressed their opinions.

An agreement was quickly reached to bury the chest of treasure.

The Company had thoroughly ransacked the Troll lair.

As they walked back toward their temporary camp.

Suddenly, a low, terrifying howl rang out once again.

The expressions of every member of the Company changed abruptly.

Thanks to book friend "Waiting for Love" for the tip, thank you very much~~~