After listening to Galadriel's explanations, Igris had retreated to his room, where he sat in tense silence. Frankly, he was more nervous now than when his mother used to get angry at him. Galadriel had shown him a few visions from inside his own mind. At first, he felt proud of what he saw, relieved that he hadn't lost his core identity. Seeing his dragon spirit had been a bit of a surprise—it was much larger than he had imagined. But what truly left him utterly dumbfounded were those two imposing men he had seen in there.
'...WHAT THE HELL ARE MY ANCESTORS DOING IN MY INNER WORLD?!'
Nervous, Igris stood up. He began pacing back and forth across the room, completely unable to make sense of this absurdity.
'I don't get it... I really don't get it... my ancestors completed their duty; they should be in heaven right now...'
He paused, lost in deep thought.
'Did I do something to piss them off so much that they came back to haunt me?!'
Then he immediately shook the thought from his head.
'Wait, no, I've always remembered them with love and respect...'
Driven nearly out of his mind, Igris ran both hands through his hair in frustration.
'Damn it...'
Overcome by a sudden spike of fear, he clamped both hands over his own mouth. Cold sweat breaking out on his forehead, he began to panic internally.
'They didn't hear that, right?'
He genuinely had no idea what to do. If his ancestors got mad and decided to give him a beating, he couldn't run, nor could he fight back; it would be a completely one-sided thrashing. Taking a deep breath, he tried to pull himself together.
"...I need to watch what I say and do from now on... I really don't want to get beaten with a mace..."
With a heavy sigh, Igris lay down on his bed with those thoughts and tried to fall asleep despite the swirling questions in his head. Time continued to flow quickly. Over the next day, Igris tried to reach out and speak with his ancestors in his mind a few times, but his efforts yielded no results.
Then, a day later, a merchant caravan arrived in Rivendell. Seeking out Balin and Gloin from the company, Igris explained that he wanted to sell off the Dark Elf gear he had acquired. Having previously had the dwarves inspect the equipment, Igris was now enlisting the help of these experienced dwarves to make sure he wasn't taken for a ride and could maximize his profits.
Understanding the situation, the two dwarves readily stepped up to help their friend. Truth be told, many in the company were curious about what the caravan had brought along. As the merchant caravan glided through Rivendell's entrance, Dwalin spoke softly under his mustache.
"Thorin. Let's buy as much meat and beer as they have. Carrying it won't be an issue thanks to Igris's ability."
Right beside him, Fili backed the idea.
"I agree, Uncle. Let's get as much meat as we can. We made a fine fortune in the troll cave; no one's going to object to this decision."
Thorin stroked his beard, lost in thought for a moment. Then he nodded and spoke.
"Let's learn the prices first, then we talk."
The dwarves nodded in agreement and fell silent. Shortly after, the caravan came to a halt in an open courtyard, and the Oakenshield company wasted no time heading over to shop. After tough negotiations led by Balin and Gloin, Igris netted a very handsome profit; out of all his stock, the only items he hadn't sold were the Dark Elf crossbows.
Current Budget: 267 Gold, 60 Silver, 23 Copper
767 Gold, 88 Silver, 49 Copper
Igris also carried out his daily draw and shop purchases for the new day.
System: [Congratulations on winning 80 warhorses.]
Igris was thrilled with this reward; after all, horses meant mobility, cavalry power, and transport logistics. Unfortunately, he didn't summon all of these horses into Rivendell. He summoned only a few to his side and dispatched the rest directly to the camp under Leon's command. Still, this raised a new question in his mind.
"...that place is starting to turn into a full-fledged base or farm rather than a military camp... I hope they can manage it."
He sighed and opened the System Shop.
-System Shop- [Project - Blueprint of the Elven Well] [Price: 1,000,000,000 Gold] [Horse X 30] [Price: 2 Gold] [Tier 1 Rhodok Infantry X 18] [Price: 5 Gold] [Trainer Equipment] {Price: 3000 Gold} [Dried Meat X 200 Barrels] [Price: 35 Silver] [Tier 1 Nord (Warband) Infantry X 35] [Price: 5 Gold] [Mystic Item – Dragon Bone] [Price: 1,200,000 Gold]
Seeing the price tag of the project blueprint at the very top of the list, Igris almost spat blood.
'System! What the hell is this?! Why is an Elven well so damn expensive?!'
System: [Elven wells are extraordinarily rare and special. The water drawn from them carries countless benefits and buffs. It can heal a person on their deathbed, revive arid and dead soil, cure almost all plagues and poisons—in short, it offers immense returns and healing power, holding immense commercial value. Across the multiverse, countless beings make absolute fortunes by selling bottled water from these wells... except Elves, of course... Anyway, using this method of creating a gold mine, you could construct a few wells, quickly recover this gold, and double it within a few years. It is unquestionably worth the price.]
Igris went silent for a moment, rubbed his eyes with his hands, and let out a deep sigh.
"...forget it. If you can't afford it, you can't afford it. Better to focus on what I need than torture myself."
Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind and focused directly on the items he required.
Purchased Items: Dried Meat X 200 Barrels (-70 Gold), Horse X 30 (-60 Gold) Current Budget: 767 Gold, 88 Silver, 49 Copper
637 Gold, 88 Silver, 49 Copper
Having completed the payment, he breathed a sigh of relief. He reserved 50 barrels of the dried meat for his dimensional storage and sent everything else to Leon's camp. Then, giving his arms a good stretch, he left the area to do his daily training.
Meanwhile, back at the open area where the merchant caravan was set up, members of the Oakenshield group were still shopping. Simon, the caravan leader, greeted these unexpected customers with enthusiasm. He was paying particularly close attention to the dwarves, who wanted to buy up all of his alcohol barrels.
"Ah! What a splendid occasion! You're in luck, gentlemen~ I have multiple varieties of beer and top-grade wine! Also, if you're interested, we sell beef, mutton, and goat meat! Unlike the Elves, you dwarves are fond of meat, aren't you?"
Gloin stood right beside Thorin, speaking with a stern expression.
"We're interested in all of these goods. Which is why we expect you to give us a fair discount."
Simon rubbed his hands together and smiled.
"Ah, I see, I see. You want a bulk discount. Let's see what we can do."
Pulling an abacus out from under the counter, he began making rapid calculations.
"...let's see... alright. How does a five percent discount sound?"
Gloin thought for a brief second before opening the haggling.
"Fifteen percent."
Simon frowned.
"Six percent."
"Fourteen percent."
"Seven percent."
"Thirteen percent."
"Eight percent."
After this quick back-and-forth, Gloin had no intention of letting it drop.
"Oh, come on! We're buying nearly half of your stock! You'll save money on transport and road expenses! Plus, by clearing space in your caravan, you can buy new goods right here from the Elves and sell them elsewhere for even higher profits! Don't be a miser, man! This isn't my first dance with merchants! Twelve percent is my final offer!"
Although Simon's brow furrowed, he kept his practiced trader's smile intact. Facing him was an experienced dwarf who clearly knew the tricks of the trade.
"Ah, I get it. But I could sell these to nearby villages and towns for a far higher price and multiply my profits."
Gloin had a quick counter ready for that move as well.
"Ah~ or you could get ambushed by orcs or dark elves and lose everything you own."
Simon's brows knit together suspiciously.
"What do you mean by that?"
This time, Thorin stepped in, speaking in a cool, diplomatic tone.
"Don't you know? A few days ago, an Orc legion fought the Elves just a few kilometers from here. At the same time, Lord Elrond's famous orc-hunting sons were ambushed by dark elves and severely wounded."
Simon's eyes widened in surprise at this fresh intelligence. Gloin didn't miss the opportunity, chiming in with a smirk.
"Look, my friend~ this happened right on Rivendell's doorstep. There could still be Orcs or dark elves roaming loose out there. We're actually doing you a favor. Just think: you could get ambushed and lose your life, or you can leave your supplies behind and save your skin. Sell us your goods, make a safe profit, and lighten your load."
Simon stroked his chin, sinking into deep thought as Gloin and Thorin waited patiently for his decision. After a short silence, Simon spoke.
"We will be resting here for a few days. Allow me time to verify this information; if what you say is true, I'd be willing to negotiate again."
Gloin gave Thorin a skeptical look. Thorin offered a subtle nod of approval, so Gloin turned back to the merchant.
"Fair enough. We'll be waiting to hear from you."
As Simon nodded, he heard someone calling out to him from behind.
"Hey, Simon!"
Turning curiously toward the voice, Simon saw Igris approaching with steady steps.
"Do you require something, Lord Igris?"
Igris didn't beat around the bush and got straight to the point.
"I need information. About Lake-town to the east. How many merchants travel and trade in that direction?"
Under normal circumstances, trade intelligence like this would be shared only for a price. However, having just had a lucrative exchange with Igris and holding a deep respect for his growing reputation, Simon decided to make an exception.
"Not many at all—maybe two or three merchant caravans head that way in a year. You know how it is, Lord Igris... dragons are more than enough to terrify us simple folk."
Igris let out a sigh and nodded in agreement.
"Right. But if we set aside the dragon's existence, what would the commercial value of that region look like?"
Simon paused for a moment, weighing the possibilities.
"Then everything changes. Without the dragon, that place could easily become a massive trading hub. Merchants heading toward the eastern barbarians and the Iron Hills currently have to squeeze between Mordor and Dol Guldur, and stopping by Lórien adds unnecessary distance to the trip. But in the dragon's absence, three brand-new trade sectors would open up: the Wood-elves, Lake-town, and the Iron Hills—offering a shorter, more profitable, and safer route. Plus, a faster, far more lucrative path would open for merchants traveling to Framsburg, not to mention the potential for new trade goods... but the dragon throws everything into chaos."
Igris nodded with a deep sigh. Hearing directly from an expert that merchants would eagerly flock to this route once Dale was reclaimed and news of the dragon's death spread brought him genuine relief. Reaching to his belt, he pulled out a pouch he had prepared containing forty silver coins and offered it to Simon, but Simon gently waved his hand to decline.
"Consider the information a gift from me, Lord Igris. Thanks to you, I acquired gear no Middle-earth merchant could ever hope to stumble upon. In fact, I already have a few clients lined up who would be very interested in those Dark Elf whips."
Igris nodded, pulling the pouch back as he asked:
"I hope they aren't slave traders."
Knowing Igris's firm stance on slave traders, Simon clarified without delay.
"In a sense, but they are mostly animal trainers, along with a few goblins and Great Orcs."
Though Igris frowned briefly, he caught the gist of it. This merchant was no ordinary trader; if he could move so freely into a fortified Elven sanctuary like Rivendell, he was either a master merchant or connected to the White Council's spy network. Keeping these thoughts to himself, Igris chose to focus on his own affairs.
Around the same time, Halt and Will were chatting with the caravan guards, gathering various bits of intelligence regarding local happenings. Meanwhile, Bilbo, who was wandering around asking questions, was listening to a completely different story from one of the guards.
"A creature that eats babies?!"
Bilbo asked, his eyes wide with shock, while the caravan guard nodded solemnly.
"Aye. There's a creature that's lived around the Misty Mountains for years—a small, skeletal, human-like thing. Sometimes it sneaks into villages to snatch babies or devour them right in their cradles. The villagers tried many times to catch or kill it, but they never could. Even the Elves went searching for it, but they couldn't track it down."
Bilbo's face turned pale in an instant.
"That's horrifying!"
The guard sighed heavily and nodded.
"It is... many a family has been destroyed by that monster... I only wish I'd run into it myself; I'd kill it right on the spot!"
Bilbo nodded in agreement, but he couldn't help asking the question lingering in his mind.
"But why couldn't the Elves catch it?"
"I'm not sure... but my guess is it nests deep within the Misty Mountains; those caves and tunnels are crawling with goblins. The Elves couldn't possibly find the creature without marching an entire army inside."
The guard paused to take a sip from his fruit juice before continuing.
"If you're planning on heading that way, Master Hobbit, do be careful. Those mountains aren't safe; one wrong step could cost you your life."
Bilbo nodded at the experienced man's advice, though the dark tale left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Just then, an Elven messenger approached Igris.
"Mr. Igris."
Igris turned toward the Elf who called his name and stepped forward calmly.
"Yes? Is there a problem?"
The Elven servant shook his head.
"No, sir. I am here to deliver a message. Lord Elrond and his family will be joining you and your company for dinner this evening."
This news pleased Igris immensely.
'Finally!'
Still, keeping his excitement from showing, he gave a dignified nod.
"I understand. It is an honor for us. We will look forward to it eagerly."
The Elven servant bowed respectfully and departed. As for Igris, he smiled, savoring the satisfaction of finally securing the opportunity he had been seeking for so long...
---
Author's note:
I apologize to everyone for the late upload. Writing the chapters has become a bit difficult because I'm fast-tracking the story; I've been torn between which plot points to cover and which ones to skip. I had to speed things up because, at this rate, I could easily write 100 chapters just set in Rivendell—meaning we'd still be there by the two-hundredth chapter. If this were a standard adventure fanfic, that wouldn't be an issue, but since it involves kingdom-building, many readers would likely get bored or impatient with such a slow pace. That's why I've accelerated the narrative; we'll move quickly until we leave Rivendell, though we do have two side stories planned where the pace will slow down again. Happy reading!