Elf Lord [Seeking Recommendation Tickets]

Rivendell was built against the mountains.

One side leaned against a towering peak.

Three sides were surrounded by wide, perpetually rushing rivers.

Only a single massive arched bridge connected the two ends of the valley.

The members of the Company were walking across this massive arched bridge at this moment.

"So this is Rivendell. I've heard of it so many times, but I never expected that I would actually have a day where I could reach Rivendell."

"Even though it's the dwelling of Elves, it really is too beautiful here, just like a fairy tale."

"Can you lot shut up? Elves are our enemies."

"You're the one who needs to shut up. Didn't you hear Gandalf say this is our strategy? Do you even know what strategy means?"

"All of you, be quiet. It won't be good if those Elves hear you."

"Let them hear. Do you think I'm afraid of those sissy Elves?"

"All of you, shut your mouths. We're here now, and we're guests. Bombur and Bofur also need the Elves' healing. Keep your mouths shut for a while and don't embarrass us Dwarves."

"Of course I won't embarrass the Dwarves."

The Dwarves were, as always, fond of chattering and bickering.

In the past, Morgan also liked to chime in when the Dwarves argued, just to soothe the boredom of the journey.

Listening to the Dwarves bicker was one of the few pleasures Thorin Oakenshield, Gandalf, and the others had during their dull journey.

But now, Morgan had absolutely no interest in listening to the Dwarves talk nonsense.

He was currently focused entirely on admiring the picturesque scenery of Rivendell.

For Morgan, to be able to personally witness and admire the scenery of the true Elven city, "Rivendell," with his own eyes.

Instead of sitting in front of a movie screen, looking at illusory landscapes created by green-screen special effects.

What a great stroke of luck this was.

Of course, the fact that Morgan could come to this world and carry a golden thigh like the Time Traveler System.

That was his most incomparable stroke of luck.

At this moment, Morgan was not the only one fully admiring the scenery of Rivendell.

There was Bilbo, the white-bearded Dwarf Balin, the Dwarf Dwalin, and even Thorin Oakenshield.

One had to know that coming to Rivendell was not easy.

Especially for Dwarves.

Elves were their sworn enemies.

Heaven knows if there would ever be another chance like this in the future.

The smart ones naturally seized the time to admire it; this was all capital for bragging when drinking in the future.

And when they grew old and told their grandchildren about the adventures of their youth, they would have stories to tell.

Moving slowly along the nearly hundred-meter-long giant arched bridge.

It didn't take long for the group to pass under the gaze of the two massive Elven warrior statues at the bridgehead.

They truly walked into the wide plaza at the foot of the mountain that belonged to Rivendell.

They didn't have to wait long.

Soon, the figures of several Elves appeared on the stone steps ahead.

The Elf in the lead had a slender build, a handsome face, and wore magnificent, exquisite robes.

Just by appearing, he gave others a sense of gentility and refinement.

Morgan looked at the other's ears immediately; they were indeed pointed and slender, unlike any he had seen on Dwarves or a Hobbit.

"What would it be like if ears like these grew on a Dwarf or a Hobbit?"

This thought suddenly popped into his mind.

Morgan imagined it: pointed ears, short stature, ugly appearance.

A fantasy creature immediately appeared in Morgan's mind: a Goblin.

He shook his head, trying hard to cast the terrible image out of his mind.

Morgan's gaze focused once again on the Elves walking toward them.

He had to sigh; Elven ears were only normal when they looked like that.

The leading Elf was handsome and gentlemanly.

The other Elves were much the same, all with excellent looks and builds.

If he were back in his previous life, whether these few were taken to be models or to work as male escorts at a high-end club, they would be highly sought after.

Just by seeing these few, Morgan felt that the Elven race was indeed different.

Any one of them—no, several of them—who stepped out were handsome devils.

However, handsome as they were, there was a sense that something was missing.

Hmm, they lacked a certain distinctiveness.

Right, that was it—they lacked character!

These Elves looked as if they had been churned out on an assembly line.

They were far inferior to himself.

Recalling his own appearance, Morgan suddenly had a few amusing thoughts pop into his mind.

In his past life, Morgan had been ugly and fierce-looking.

Whenever he saw a handsome man, he would sometimes think that no matter how good-looking they were, they wouldn't be able to take a single punch.

Now that he had transmigrated into a total hunk, seeing handsome men didn't make him want to beat them up; instead, he found himself secretly comparing them to himself.

What a damn ridiculous thought!

Shaking his head vigorously, Morgan cursed under his breath and stopped dwelling on it.

The lead Elf clearly knew Gandalf and greeted him from afar.

Gandalf walked up to meet him with a broad smile on his face as well.

The two began to converse in Elvish.

Morgan pricked up his ears and was surprised to find that he could actually understand them.

It was then that he realized what the first innate ability, "Common Tongue," in the ability section of his system panel meant.

Gandalf and the Elf named Lindir did not avoid the others while chatting, though they were speaking in Elvish.

The Elf named Lindir kept glancing at the Dwarves not far away during their conversation, which made the suspicious Dwarves quite nervous.

Morgan knew the general content of their chat, but he certainly wasn't going to tell the others.

Just then, a loud, clear horn blast suddenly echoed from the opposite side of the valley in the distance.

The group in the plaza immediately turned their heads.

They saw a large troop of fully armed Elven cavalry in silver armor charging rapidly toward them from the other side of the giant arched bridge.

Thorin Oakenshield immediately treated the sight as a grave threat.

He drew his short sword, stood in front of the Company, and roared, "Quickly, gather together!"

The Dwarves drew their weapons one after another, quickly assuming a defensive stance.

At this moment, the fully armed Elven cavalry finally charged into the wide plaza.

A large number of riders circled the Company, moving back and forth.

The Dwarves stared fixedly at the Elves, not daring to make any rash moves.

Just then, a tall, middle-aged Elf with a handsome and majestic appearance, wearing golden armor and a golden circlet, rode a tall white horse into the plaza.

"Gandalf!"

The middle-aged Elf greeted Gandalf from a distance.

"Lord Elrond."

Gandalf bowed slightly in greeting.

The middle-aged Elf dismounted, stepped forward, and embraced Gandalf with a smile.

Morgan could guess that the handsome and majestic middle-aged Elf before him must be the Elven Lord of Rivendell.

Given Rivendell's status in all of Middle-earth and the warmth this Elven Lord showed toward Gandalf, Morgan could see that the friendship between these two was truly extraordinary.

"Where have you been?"

After patting each other on the shoulders, Gandalf looked at Lord Elrond and asked with a smile.

"We have just hunted down a pack of Orcs from the south, and we killed quite a few near the Secret Pass as well."

"It is strange for Orcs to be so close to our borders."

"I am wondering if there is something, or someone, that has drawn them here."

As Lord Elrond spoke, he handed his sword to an attendant Elf, turned, and looked at the Company.