Summer gave way to winter, spring passed into autumn, and several years slipped by in the blink of an eye.
Over those years, Wilderness Village finally developed into a small town.
In the fourth year, the walls were entirely rebuilt in brick, enclosing a much larger area than originally planned.
This was because the population had grown again, though nowhere near as rapidly as in the first year. The total settled at a little over five thousand.
Nearly all subsequent growth came from newborn children, and the population had yet to break six thousand.
After analyzing the situation, Allen concluded that this was probably the limit of Wilderness Town's reach.
Everyone within the area its reputation could reach had already gathered here. Those who had not come probably never would.
To break this deadlock, he would have to wait until after the Battle of Five Armies.
Once the darkness in Mirkwood was cleared away, Allen would send people to reopen the Old Forest Road and connect trade between eastern and western Wilderland.
As word spread, some people would naturally migrate to Allen's territory.
Then he would have to compete for settlers with the King of Dale, Bard the Dragon-Slayer.
The benefits of reopening the Old Forest Road were not limited to population growth. There would also be toll revenue.
After several years of administration, Allen knew that the taxes he had initially imposed were too low, but he still made no changes.
Most townspeople were still far from wealthy. They merely had enough food and clothing to get by.
Some of their surplus harvest was traded for everyday necessities and basic weapons and equipment, while the rest had to be kept for food.
Those who worked exceptionally hard or already had some savings began tearing down their crude wooden huts and moving into houses built of brick and timber.
In the end, that grain and wealth still found its way into Allen's hands through other channels.
With trade from the Woodland Realm supporting him as well, Allen's finances remained fairly healthy.
Once construction of the walls was complete, in particular, Allen turned his attention to building and widening roads.
This made things more convenient for his caravans and the villagers' daily lives.
However, Allen's little treasury in the simulator had shrunk drastically, and his simulations over the past few years had gone poorly.
He finally realized just how lucky he had been when he first arrived. Either that, or the simulator had been bending over backward to go easy on him.
Over these years, Allen maintained a pace of several simulations each month. Most were agonizing, with death dogging his every step.
Even on the Calradia Continent, where he could be considered invincible,
once he entered a battlefield where two armies clashed, individual strength could accomplish very little. However powerful he was, he could not fend off attacks from every direction.
His bad luck could be especially brutal. Once, he had barely entered the Pendor Continent before a Khergit raiding party captured him.
To avenge their comrades, they tied Allen behind a horse and dragged him across the grasslands until he died.
After the simulation ended, Allen read the cruel description and wanted nothing to do with remembering what had happened.
Worse luck followed. Recently, Allen had finally saved up five honor points and spent two hundred renown to acquire the status of a baron.
When he opened his eyes, he was standing on a gallows, surrounded by more than a hundred nobles and several hundred soldiers. Still utterly bewildered, he was hanged.
After reading the simulator's account, Allen remained depressed for half a year. That renown had been so hard to save.
Such rotten luck made Allen afraid to choose the identity of the Child of Prophecy for a simulation.
If he died during that simulation, he really would have no tears left to shed.
Allen did not dare increase the frequency of his simulations either, because after the trade route between Wilderness Town and the Woodland Realm opened,
foolhardy Warg Riders and Half-orcs kept launching small raids and harassing them.
More than a thousand Half-orcs had died at Allen's hands because of this.
Only recently had they quieted down a little, sparing Allen further trouble.
Of course, the simulator still yielded some gains. After expenses, Allen had accumulated several tens of thousands of denars over these years. The several hundred renown points he earned were almost entirely spent, but he had gained another two reputation points.
Autumn had come around again. It was the season of harvest, when the villagers worked themselves into a sweat each day yet still wore bright smiles.
Allen thought that, according to Gondor's calendar, this month should be the Harvest Moon.
By the Elves' calendar, however, it should now be the fourth month. Since most trees, flowers, and grasses began to wither at this time, the fourth month was also called the Withering Moon.
But it might also be the fifth month, the winter month, because Allen did not know whether the first day of the Elves' year
fell on the same day as the first day of Gondor's year.
It did not matter, though. Nature itself would tell you what season it was.
Today, for instance, golden waves of wheat rolled in the breeze. Did anyone really need to tell him what season this was?
That day, Allen visited Beorn, intending to have him introduce him to Radagast.
Over the past four or five years, Beorn's life had grown increasingly comfortable. His homestead had taken shape nicely, and he kept many animals.
Recently, Allen had also noticed that Marian's belly seemed to be starting to show. Beorn really had it all.
Looking at the ponies and dogs trained on Beorn's homestead and thinking about his life, Allen could not help feeling terribly envious.
Standing beside Allen, Beorn smiled and said, "Allen, if you like, why not let the finest among them come with you? They say they like you very much."
Looking at the radiant Beorn, Allen waved a hand helplessly. "No, no. I'd love to, but I'm too busy. I really don't have time to care for them."
Beorn laughed heartily. "Then wait until you're less busy. Klethi told me you haven't been in a very good mood lately?"
Allen paused. "Klethi? Does she come over often?"
Beorn looked delighted at the mention of Klethi.
"Yes. She's quite an amusing young girl. She's complained about you plenty, you know. Says you're always going off to have fun without taking her."
Allen rubbed his freshly trimmed chin and sighed.
"It's not that I don't want to bring her. With that temper of hers, who knows what trouble she'd get me into?"
Beorn sounded surprised. "Really? I think she's a lovely girl. She's been spending a lot of time playing with my son Grim lately."
But Beorn did not dwell on that. Instead, he invited Allen inside.
"Come on, let's not stand around talking here. Come in and have a drink. I've just brewed a new batch of mead. Perfect timing-you can try it."
As he spoke, he led Allen to the wooden table in the yard. Marian had already prepared food and drinks for their guest. She greeted Allen with a smile, then went back to her work.
The two sat at the table, drinking and chatting.
Now and then, Allen recounted what he had seen during his several visits to the Woodland Realm and the Iron Hills. Beorn listened closely, offering comments along the way.
Beorn said he disliked Dwarves. He thought they were too greedy, endlessly mining the earth's riches, and would bring disaster upon themselves sooner or later.
At times, however, Allen could tell that Beorn was rather fond of the Silvan Elves. He felt that the Elves there were close to nature, more candid and straightforward.
Afterward, Allen asked as though the thought had just occurred to him, "Beorn, a few years ago, one of my subordinates told me another neighbor lived around here. Have you met him?"
Beorn nodded. "Yes, there is someone. He lives in a grove not far away and calls himself Radagast the Brown Wizard. He's a very good man, just a little unusual. He rides a wooden sled pulled by rabbits. Have you never met him?"
"No. I've always been busy, and I wasn't ready either. Now I'd like to get to know him. Do you know where he lives?"
Allen continued, "I've heard his name, and I've been looking forward to meeting him."
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go. His home isn't far from here."
Decisive as ever, Beorn took a bottle of mead and left his homestead with Allen.
Radagast was one of the Maiar, serving Yavanna, the Queen of the Earth and Giver of Fruits.
Thus, he was very fond of the flowers, birds, fish, insects, and other living things of Middle-earth. He was also skilled in herbalism and in directing birds and beasts.
Many small animals were his friends and often provided the help he needed.
When the Maiar left Aman, they relinquished most of their powers and former wisdom. It was almost like being reborn, arriving in Middle-earth in mortal guise.
Because of this, Radagast sometimes seemed a little dim. His insight was somewhat lacking, and he was not particularly quick-witted.
Yet his abilities were far from weak, and he had a strong sense of responsibility, never neglecting his duties.
The Brown Wizard was not often at home. He frequently drove his rabbit sled around the area, patrolling and observing the evil forces within Mirkwood.
That was one of his duties. Today, he happened to be home, and he was not alone. A colleague was with him.
His colleague wore a tall, pointed blue wizard's hat and a drab gray cloak.
His hair and eyebrows were poorly groomed, and a gray-white beard hung over his chest. Wise eyes shone in his kindly face.
This was another of the Maiar, the bearer of Narya, the Ring of Fire: Gandalf the Grey.
At that moment, Gandalf was looking at Radagast the Brown Wizard, asking questions and discussing their recent discoveries.
They bore the same responsibilities and often gathered to exchange the information they had obtained.
When Allen and Beorn approached the cottage, the two Wizards happened to be discussing Wilderness Town.
Gandalf, who traveled throughout Middle-earth, was very curious about this human town that had appeared in Wilderland.
In fact, Gandalf had visited the area several years earlier and seen Beorn roaming near the Old Ford.
At the time, he had other, more important matters to attend to and had not lingered.
He had never expected that, a few years later, a small human town would appear here.
This surprised Gandalf greatly, so today he had come to Rhosgobel to ask Radagast, who lived nearby, about the situation.
Radagast's answers, however, failed to satisfy him.
When Allen was establishing the village, Radagast had been at the southern end of Mirkwood, observing Dol Guldur.
By the time he returned, a village with a sizable population had appeared out of nowhere.
The answers his animal friends gave him were vague as well. They only said that signs of human activity had appeared there when nature began awakening in spring.
He had also learned that Allen had fought several battles with the Half-orcs of the Misty Mountains.
Radagast then told Gandalf about his new neighbors, Beorn and his people.
While the two were talking, a little bird flew inside and told Radagast that Allen and Beorn had arrived.
Allen had come alone with Beorn, bringing none of his personal guards. He did not want too many people disturbing this Maia.
The young man from another world felt apprehensive. This was his first time facing a god of this world.
Radagast might not look particularly clever, but that did not change his status as a lesser deity.
Most living beings in Arda were creations of Ilúvatar, the Father of All, and the Valar. The Valar themselves had arisen from Ilúvatar's thoughts.
In short, everything in Middle-earth was bound to Ilúvatar by countless ties.
But Allen was not. Neither he nor the villagers he summoned were children of Ilúvatar.
He did not know what consequences might follow if others discovered this.
That was why Allen had always resisted contact with the most powerful natives of this world. But avoiding them forever was no solution.
He decided to visit Radagast after all, starting with an easier encounter and hoping to slip through unnoticed.
Instead, fate played an enormous joke on him. Two Wizards appeared before him.
Radagast the Brown Wizard and his colleague, Gandalf the Grey.
As Gandalf looked at the two strangers who had arrived uninvited, many thoughts flashed through his mind.
Gandalf knew something about Skin-changers. He had acquired a great deal of knowledge during his long years in Middle-earth.
But he knew nothing about Allen. He was very interested in this young man who dared lead his people to settle in Wilderland.
So he introduced himself before Radagast could speak.
Gandalf removed his hat, held it in his hand, and dipped his head slightly in greeting to Allen and Beorn.
A kindly smile spread across his aged face, making him look wonderfully approachable.
"Good afternoon, guests. Welcome to Radagast's cottage. I am a Wizard. My name is Gandalf-Gandalf the Grey."
Looking at the two-meter-tall Gandalf, Allen already felt numb inside. His expression was terribly stiff.
He spoke cautiously. "Good afternoon, Gandalf. My name is Allen. I'm the leader of Wilderness Town."
Beorn looked at this stranger and added flatly,
"I'm Beorn. I live nearby."
Only then did Radagast get a chance to speak. "Oh, let me introduce everyone. This is my colleague. He seems to have introduced himself already, so I won't say more. These two are my new neighbors. Ah, they seem to have introduced themselves too."
Radagast scratched his head. "Well, let's not all stand out here. Come inside and talk."
At Radagast's invitation, they entered the cottage and sat down.
Allen's mind was racing as he tried to figure out how to handle Gandalf.
Gandalf, meanwhile, had already voiced his question.
"Young chieftain, forgive my presumption. When I traveled through this area a few years ago, I don't recall seeing this prosperous little town."
Gandalf paused, then looked Allen in the eyes and continued,
"I would very much like to know why you established a town in such a dangerous place. Would you indulge an old man's curiosity?"
His voice was rich and mellow, seeming to carry a reassuring warmth. Upon hearing it, Allen suddenly stopped feeling nervous.
Allen understood that Gandalf had not noticed anything unusual about him.
If he had, this so-called old man would surely have shouted "Fiend!", swung his wooden staff, and turned into a berserker to teach Allen a bloody lesson.
Since Gandalf had not discovered his true identity, Allen immediately relaxed, and his thoughts veered in another direction.
Facing this wise man with such titles as "Battle Mage," "Middle-earth Kidnapper," and "Middle-earth Social Butterfly," Allen wanted to play a little joke on him.
"Of course, of course. The sages of our people often teach us that respecting the old and caring for the young is essential to a stable society. Indulging an old man's curiosity is certainly something I ought to do. But I have a question of my own, which I hope the renowned Gandalf the Grey will answer."
At this point, Allen smiled.
"In our people's records, a very, very long time ago-perhaps a thousand years-a wise man calling himself Gandalf the Grey visited my ancestors. Was that Gandalf you as well? If so, you must be an Elf or a half-Elf, surely? If not, I'm very curious about what you are. Humans, after all, don't live that long."
Gandalf paused in surprise, then quickly recovered and answered with a smile. "To think you're a descendant of an old acquaintance. Yes, that was me. I am neither an Elf nor a half-Elf. I am a Wizard. As you know, Wizards always have mysterious abilities and know all sorts of strange things. This is merely one of my insignificant talents."
Gandalf continued, "Now then, it's your turn, young man, to answer this old fellow's question."
Allen raised an eyebrow. He knew that Gandalf's answer amounted to saying nothing at all, but he did not mind. He had only been joking.
"I came from the east."
As soon as he said this, Allen saw Gandalf's kindly expression turn solemn, and his right hand suddenly tightened around his wooden staff.
"The followers of the Dark Lord Sauron are everywhere there now. Civil wars between humans break out with alarming frequency, and it's no longer a suitable place for us to live. So I brought my people back here. More of our people will probably come in the future."
Allen's explanation eased the sternness from Gandalf's face.
In truth, hearing Allen say he came from the east had instantly put Gandalf on edge. That was Sauron's stronghold, after all, with countless followers of darkness. Gandalf himself never traveled east.
But he soon remembered Allen's clashes with the Half-orcs. Radagast had also told him that Allen once braved the dangers of the Misty Mountains to rescue the people of Beorn the Skin-changer, along with Dwarven and Elven captives.
From Radagast's account, Allen could not possibly be a servant of darkness.
Gandalf was also very willing to believe that Allen was a good man.
If Sauron's followers had grown so shrewd and cunning that they could freely sacrifice their own people's lives to win the trust of the good,
that would be far too terrifying. Gandalf believed Sauron possessed such cunning, but not such power. No one influenced by darkness would act in that manner.
In that brief moment, Gandalf considered many things. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him.
"I see. I worried needlessly. Lord Allen, I wonder whether you would be willing to continue the friendship this old man shared with your people a thousand years ago?"
Of course I have to keep it going, Allen thought.
If I don't, what am I supposed to do when you bring the northern wanderers, the Elves of Lothlórien, and the big shots from your White Council to wipe me out? Would I dare refuse?
"Of course. Having such a wise Wizard as a friend would certainly be very beneficial to Wilderness Town's future development. I'm delighted to have gained the friendship of one..."
As he spoke, Allen remembered Radagast beside them. "No, two Wizards. I would also very much like to gain the Brown Wizard's friendship."
In truth, Gandalf had no idea whose descendant Allen was.
Over more than a thousand years, he had visited countless human settlements and seen any number of people who resembled Allen. But that did not stop him from using Allen's words to establish a connection with the young man before him.
Gandalf nudged his fellow Wizard Radagast with his foot, snapping him out of his daydream. Then both of them expressed their willingness to be friends with Allen.
Now that everyone in the cottage was a friend, the conversation became much more relaxed.
Gandalf asked tentatively, "Allen, do you ever find managing a town tedious? Would you be interested in traveling with an experienced old man?"
Gandalf's idea was simple: take Allen out on a journey and keep him close enough to observe.
Then Allen's true colors would reveal themselves, sparing Gandalf the need to speculate.
As it happened, Gandalf had a plan in mind recently that he could bring Allen along for.
Allen froze at the invitation, his mind suddenly filling with possibilities.
As a notorious Middle-earth Kidnapper, Gandalf inviting you on a journey was not necessarily a bad thing, but it certainly could not be called a good thing.
The journey could be extremely dangerous. One only had to look at what had happened to Bilbo and his nephew Frodo of the Baggins family in the Shire.
At this point in time, Allen could think of only one possibility.
The Quest of Erebor might be about to begin. Allen felt a surge of excitement at the thought that he was finally going to join the world's main storyline.
In fact, Allen was getting ahead of himself. Gandalf was indeed already considering the Quest of Erebor.
But that was not what Gandalf the Grey had been talking about today.
Lately, rumors of Thráin II appearing in Rhûn had been circulating everywhere, and Gandalf wanted to go there.
Such reports were often nothing more than rumors, but Gandalf had to investigate. Thráin still had something of vital importance in his possession, and Gandalf would not give up while even a sliver of hope remained.
Gandalf intended to travel from here to Rhûn by going through Dimrill Dale, climbing Cloudyhead, and crossing the Misty Mountains.
That route was reasonably safe with a little caution and a little luck, provided the party was not too large.
They would also pass through Lothlórien along the way. Gandalf thought Lady Galadriel ought to have a look at this young man who claimed to come from the East.
Seeing Allen standing there in a daze, Gandalf assumed he did not want to go.
He continued, "Allen, have you ever heard of Lothlórien? It is a very, very beautiful place, home to warm and hospitable Elves. Once you arrive, you're certain to linger, reluctant to leave. You may even forget the passage of time. Won't you reconsider?"
Allen raised an eyebrow. That's the first I've heard of the Elves of Lothlórien being hospitable.
Don't people disappear after entering their forest?
Still, according to the accounts, it really is beautiful. I ought to see it for myself.
"My dear Gandalf, I have heard of that place. Is it truly as beautiful as you say? I'm very interested. When do we leave? To be honest, dealing with all these tedious administrative matters every day has left me utterly exhausted. I think a spontaneous journey would certainly wash away my fatigue."
Allen knew that if he did not go along this time, Gandalf would not give up.
There had never been anyone in Middle-earth whom Gandalf could not lure away. Besides, Allen also wanted to visit the Shire, meet the great Burglar Bilbo Baggins, and find out whether Hobbit cooking was as good as the accounts claimed.
And if he did not take part in the world's main storyline, how was he any different from a useless layabout?
With that thought, Allen decided to sound him out about their destination.
"So, Gandalf, where will our travels take us? Just Lothlórien? I'm already rather eager to see the scenery you described."
"No, no, no, Allen. Not just Lothlórien. There will be other places as well. Please leave a little room for imagination in this adventure. I'll have everything ready soon, and I'll come find you then. It should take about a month."
Gandalf was delighted that Allen had agreed to his suggestion.
He began recounting his experiences at length, chatting with Allen and Beorn, who occasionally chimed in.
There was no denying that Gandalf was a very charming old man.
His words were witty, humorous, and full of wisdom, backed by a wealth of experience and knowledge.
It was easy to grow fond of him. In that atmosphere, Allen felt that his first meeting with Gandalf had left them both with a good impression of each other.
As they parted, Gandalf confirmed the arrangements for their adventure with Allen once more.
After receiving a definite answer, he left Radagast's cottage in high spirits.
From beginning to end, Gandalf had never considered the danger of the undertaking. After all, at this point, very few people in Middle-earth could defeat him.
Allen had not considered their safety either, but on the way back, a thought suddenly struck him.
Why did I agree to Gandalf's invitation so easily?
The moment he mentioned Lothlórien, I thought of its beauty, and in the end, I even talked myself into going with him.
At that thought, Allen broke out in a cold sweat.
The only explanation Allen could come up with was that his fondness for Gandalf might have led him to act that way.
There was another possibility: Gandalf had used some magic Allen knew nothing about to influence his judgment.
Allen could not fathom this Maia's thoughts, but the possibility left him feeling a little wary.
Beorn noticed something was off with Allen and asked whether anything was wrong. Allen shook his head.
Before you continue