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While the others argued and grew excited, Jimmy leaned back against the stone wall, smiling faintly as he thought about only one thing.
How to kill Smaug.
The dragon did have a weakness.
Long ago, Bard's ancestor had struck away a scale from Smaug's chest near Lake Town, leaving a single vulnerable spot.
Whether it was the Black Arrow or the blades in Jimmy's hands made little difference to him.
Even if the weapons were equal, he was confident he could finish Smaug.
The real problem was flight.
If Smaug took to the air, killing him would become much harder.
So the priority was simple.
Cripple the wings first.
As for dragonfire, Jimmy was not especially worried.
Logan had survived things far worse, nuclear fire, psychic disintegration, and complete cellular collapse.
Jimmy was not there yet, but standing in Smaug's flames long enough to tear him apart was still within reach.
From what he had seen, Smaug's fire looked terrifying, but those caught in the outer blasts mostly burned clothing, not bodies.
Jimmy believed he could endure it.
After all, he was far stronger than before.
Those levels were not empty numbers.
He opened his system panel.
---
[Name: Jimmy Halstead]
[Level: 8 (1.5%)]
[Age: 1]
[Abilities: Accelerated Healing, Feral Senses, Enhanced Smell, Advanced Hand to Hand Combat, Bladed Weapon and Clawed Mastery]
[Equipment: Memory-Bonded Adamantium]
[Strength: 50]
[Agility: 55]
[Mental: 30]
[Available Points: 0]
[Techniques: None]
[Combat Skills: Silat]
---
Once his Strength crossed fifty, the change had been immediate.
His regeneration was no longer just fast.
It was aggressive.
Jimmy had tested it himself, dragging a claw across his arm, the cut sealing almost as soon as the blade passed, skin knitting together before the blood could even fall.
Even his claws struggled slightly against his own skin now.
That thought almost made him laugh.
If this kept up, would there come a day when his claws could not break his skin at all?
That would be embarrassing.
Fortunately, their sharpness and durability were improving alongside everything else, so the problem remained theoretical.
For now.
Jimmy scrolled through the panel again.
Nothing new.
No hidden tricks.
No emergency tools.
Just raw growth.
---
"Is Jimmy training?" someone whispered.
"Is that how he trains?"
"Maybe."
"Should we tell him to eat?"
"Should we?"
---
Jimmy looked up at the gathered dwarves.
"What?" he asked. "Weren't you still arguing about the door?"
"Were you training just now?" someone asked carefully.
"No," Jimmy replied. "I was thinking."
Balin stepped forward, holding roasted meat.
"Eat something. Sunset is still far off, and staring at the stone will not help."
"Thanks," Jimmy said. "But I will stick to lembas."
Right now, conserving energy mattered more than comfort.
---
As the sun dipped lower, anxiety crept in.
The keyhole still had not appeared.
"Why," Thorin muttered. "Why is nothing happening. What are we missing?"
His composure cracked.
"Break it open." he snapped. "Hit it. Force it."
"That will not work," Balin replied firmly. "It is a magic door. It obeys rules."
The final sliver of sunlight vanished behind the mountains.
Hope went with it.
The dwarves stood in silence, hollow-eyed, staring at unbroken stone.
The mountain did not answer.
"It is over." someone muttered.
"No," Bilbo said, still confused. "What did we miss, Why did everyone give up?"
"We missed the last light," Balin said quietly, suddenly looking much older. "The sun has gone."
"I will try again." Bilbo insisted.
"It is useless," Thorin said hoarsely, the key slipping from his fingers.
Clink!
Jimmy's saber flicked upward, catching the falling key with ease.
He stepped forward.
"King under the Mountain, Bilbo is right," Jimmy said calmly. "Maybe we should try one more time."
His voice did not rise, but it carried.
"I walked with you from the Shire to this mountain, not to watch you lower your head at the last step."
He placed the key back into Thorin's hand.
"If this is Erebor, it would not reject its own king. No home turns away those who belong to it, even if they have been gone a long time."
The wind shifted.
Clouds parted.
Moonlight spilled across the stone.
A thrush landed near the wall, an acorn clutched in its beak, and struck the rock sharply.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Stone answered.
A soft click echoed.
Everyone froze.
"There," Bilbo shouted, bouncing on his toes. "There, A keyhole."
His eyes widened.
"Not the sun, the moon it was moonlight."
Jimmy smiled faintly.
"Welcome home, Thorin."
Balin laughed, eyes shining.
"We have waited too long for this moment."
Thorin's hands trembled as he slid the key into the narrow opening and turned it halfway.
Click!
The mechanism awakened.
The stone door shuddered, then slowly began to open.
The mountain breathed.
Jimmy remained at the rear, one hand on the stone, watching how it moved, how empty rock became passage at the right moment.
"So this is how it works," he murmured. "Strange magic."
Someone laughed behind him.
"I did not expect that curiosity from you."
Jimmy shrugged.
"Even I like understanding doors."
---
They moved inside.
The tunnel sloped downward, ancient and smooth, carved by hands that had not existed for centuries.
At the threshold, Thorin stopped.
"Bilbo," he said. "From here on, it is your task."
Bilbo swallowed.
"You must find the Arkenstone and return without waking the dragon."
"How many gems are there?" Bilbo asked nervously.
"More than you can count," Thorin replied. "But the Arkenstone is unmistakable, You will know it."
Jimmy rested a hand on Bilbo's shoulder.
"I will be here," he said. "If the dragon wakes, I will hold it."
Bilbo nodded and disappeared into the darkness.
Watching him go, Jimmy spoke quietly.
"He will manage."
"I have never doubted my companions," Thorin replied.
---
Bilbo crept forward.
Gold rose like hills around him, gems scattered like stars across the floor, treasure piled beyond imagining.
For ten long seconds, he simply stared.
"That is… a lot."
He forced himself to move.
Red gems, No.
White stone. Raw and unfinished.
Gold cups, No.
Absolutely not.
Why was he even looking at cups?
He shook his head and kept searching, eyes darting, heart pounding.
Everywhere he looked, treasure.
Mountains of it.
Seas of gold and jewels.
But none of it felt right.
The dragon was nowhere in sight.
That made it worse.
Growing bolder, Bilbo tapped a golden plate against the stone and let it fall.
Clang!
He sat down heavily on a mound of coins.
How long would this take?
The sound echoed.
Once.
Then again.
Something shifted in the dark.
The hoard stirred.
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