The appearance of Luke and Gandalf brought everyone a pleasant surprise.
Even Thorin Oakenshield rarely showed a happy expression.
Since the two temporarily left the group, everyone began to suffer greatly upon entering Mirkwood.
First, they were made dizzy by the poisonous gas in the forest, completely losing their direction, and then they stumbled into the lair of the Giant Spiders, almost getting eaten.
After finally escaping from the Giant Spiders, they were captured and imprisoned by the Elves.
Escaping from the Elven dungeon, they were then pursued by Elves and chased by Orc, a journey full of peril.
This was completely different from the situation before, when Luke and Gandalf were present.
Thorin seemed to have forgotten the unpleasantness of their previous separation and walked up to the two of them, saying solemnly, "Welcome back, Luke, Gandalf."
"With your addition, I believe this journey to the Lonely Mountain will surely be smooth!"
Hearing this, Gandalf shook his head.
"I'm afraid we cannot go to the Lonely Mountain, Thorin; the expedition ends here."
As soon as he finished speaking, the room instantly fell silent.
Thorin's smiling face instantly froze, quickly turning grim.
His sharp eyes stared intently at Gandalf.
"Gandalf, what are you saying? What do you mean the mission ends here?"
Gandalf looked around, seeing everyone's astonished expressions, and sighed.
"We just received accurate information from the Orc that the dragon in the Lonely Mountain has awoken and has allied with Bolg, son of Azog."
"If we go to the Lonely Mountain now, it's like sheep entering a tiger's den, going to our deaths!"
"So the plan to steal the arkenstone and rally the Dwarves can no longer be used; we must re-plan and find another way!"
Hearing this, the house became even more deathly quiet.
The Dwarves were even more distraught.
The awakened dragon was something even the Lonely Mountain Dwarf Kingdom at its strongest could not withstand; how much less could these dozen or so Dwarves now?
They probably wouldn't even be enough to fill the dragon's teeth.
Thorin was also greatly shaken upon hearing this, but then a surge of unwillingness welled up in his heart, his eyes filled with madness.
"No! I can't give up!"
"What if the dragon has awakened! I must get the arkenstone, no matter the cost!"
Then he muttered to himself, "We can split into two groups, one group will attract the dragon's attention at the front gate, perhaps even lure him out, while the other group enters through the back gate and quietly retrieves the arkenstone."
"Are you mad?" Gandalf tried to shake the mad Dwarf awake, "Don't you know what kind of disaster it will bring once the dragon is enraged?"
"The dragon will burn everyone to death with his dragon fire; your companions and the residents of Lake-town will all suffer the dragon's revenge!"
Thorin's eyes were filled with madness, and he said coldly, "War always requires a price."
Everyone looked at him in shock; even the Dwarves couldn't believe he would say such a thing.
"You're truly mad!" Gandalf was so angry his heart ached, gripping his staff, seemingly wanting to knock some sense into the Dwarf who had fallen into madness.
Seeing the atmosphere growing increasingly tense, Luke finally spoke.
"Alright, it's still over a month until Durin's Day, so there's plenty of time. Everyone calm down first, and we can discuss it slowly."
Seeing Luke speak, the eldest Dwarf, Balin, echoed, "That's right, there's still plenty of time. We can re-plan; we'll surely find a solution!"
Bard, as the host, also invited everyone to sit down.
Gandalf and Thorin sulked at each other, sitting at opposite ends, one smoking, the other silently bowing his head.
Bilbo and the Dwarves, seeing this, exchanged glances, not daring to speak.
Luke didn't mind this atmosphere; instead, he paid more attention to Bard.
This person, who successfully killed the dragon Smaug in the original fate trajectory, was a descendant of Girion, the former Lord of Riverrun.
However, he was now just an ordinary resident of Lake-town, making a living by ferrying and trading.
When the dragon Smaug invaded the Lonely Mountain, Riverrun, at the foot of the Lonely Mountain, was also destroyed.
Girion, as the Lord of Riverrun, once used a huge black arrow to shoot off a scale on the dragon's chest.
And that black arrow, capable of killing the dragon, was passed down to Bard.
Luke scanned the surroundings and quickly spotted a black iron arrow hanging on the wall.
It was a two-meter-long, all-metal arrow, looking more like a spear or a harpoon.
Luke walked over and examined it up and down.
This giant arrow, forged from an unknown metal material, looked heavy and dull, but it was the only known weapon capable of piercing dragon scale armor.
"Guest?" Bard noticed Luke's actions and walked over, puzzled.
"Can I see this black arrow?" Luke asked.
Bard showed a surprised expression: "Does the guest know about this arrow?"
Luke nodded.
"I've heard of it. It's said to be a sharp weapon forged by the Dwarf race to deal with dragons, capable of penetrating the dragon's hard scales and causing fatal damage to the dragon."
Bard shook his head upon hearing this, giving a bitter smile: "If it could truly penetrate dragon scales, the former Kingdom of Riverrun wouldn't have been destroyed by the dragon! My ancestor once used it to shoot the dragon, but the dragon was unharmed, and my ancestor ultimately perished in the dragon's flames."
He wasn't unharmed, Luke remembered that Bard's ancestor successfully shot off a scale from Smaug's left chest, thus creating a fatal weakness.
This was also why Bard later succeeded in killing the dragon Smaug with the ancestral black arrow.
Their conversation was also heard by the others in the room.
The Dwarf Balin exclaimed, "You are a descendant of Girion, Lord of Riverrun? No wonder I found you familiar; you bear some resemblance to your ancestor Girion!"
Bard said with a self-deprecating smile, "Then your eyes are truly sharp, as I am merely a fisherman now."
Meanwhile, Thorin, who had been silent for a long time, now stood up, his gaze fixed on the black arrow, his expression showing a mix of excitement and greed.
"Is this the black arrow that can kill the dragon?"
Gandalf seemed to guess his thoughts and poured cold water on them: "There's only a slight possibility! Thorin Oakenshield, you cannot expect to kill the dragon with this black arrow! The dragon is very cunning; he won't foolishly stay there, waiting for you to get a chance to kill him!"
"If there's no chance for a fatal blow, what awaits you will be the dragon's furious revenge!"
Thorin completely ignored Gandalf's words, his gaze fixed on the black arrow with stubborn determination.
"No, this is a revelation of fate! Fate has brought this black arrow before me, intending for us to use it to accomplish the great feat of dragon-slaying!"
Saying this, he turned to Bard.
"How much?"
"What?" Bard didn't react.
"How much is this black arrow? I'll take it!"
Bard was stunned, then shook his head.
"Sorry, this is a family heirloom of mine and is not for sale."
"You will sell it!" Thorin was determined to have it.
"You are a descendant of Girion; you should know about the treasures within the Lonely Mountain. If you are willing to hand over this black arrow, I promise to exchange it for one-fourteenth of the Lonely Mountain treasure."