Chapter 15: No Retreat Whatsoever!
It worked.
Smaug successfully transformed into a troll—and without wasting a second, strode straight toward the other three.
"Ohohoho!" Smaug boomed the moment he appeared.
"Looks like there's something tasty here. Mind sharing a bite?"
The three trolls, who had been busy getting played by Bilbo, froze when they saw this unfamiliar troll. They stared at one another, utterly confused.
Bilbo—who had been desperately stalling for time—felt his head split open the instant a fourth troll appeared.
"Who are you?"
"I've never seen you before."
"Why should we share food with you?"
One troll spoke after another.
By now, Smaug had already reached the campfire. He flashed a wide grin.
"Dawn's almost here. If we don't eat now, we won't get to eat at all. Let's hurry up and eat them—together."
Strictly speaking, all three trolls were idiots.
And to them, this logic made perfect sense.
After all, dawn really was coming. Once they turned to stone, they wouldn't be eating anything. Compared to eating nothing, sharing a little food with another troll didn't seem like a big deal at all.
"But that tiny Hobbit said these Dwarves are full of parasites," said the dumbest of the three, hesitantly.
"He said eating them would make us sick."
"He's lying," Smaug said with a chuckle, shaking his head.
"If you don't believe me, I'll cut one open and show you."
With that—
Smaug walked straight up to Thorin Oakenshield, bent down, and grabbed him.
"This one looks especially tasty. Let's start with him."
The three trolls glanced at one another and, once again, saw no problem with that.
If there were parasites, cutting him open would reveal them.
Perfectly reasonable.
Seeing this—
Bilbo completely panicked.
"He's not edible! His belly is full of parasites—really! Eat him and you'll get sick and die!"
"Haha, that's fine," Smaug laughed. "I'm not afraid of dying."
He bent down, picked up a sword from the ground, and raised it toward Thorin's head—to shave his hair.
As the blade approached his scalp, the proud, arrogant Dwarven prince Thorin Oakenshield finally broke.
Nearly desperate, he roared,
"I won't let you get away with this! I'll kill you—I swear I'll kill you!"
The other Dwarves began shouting as well.
Even the three already hanging over the fire joined in.
After all—
Thorin was their king.
If the king died, everything was over.
Bilbo was nearly despairing himself. He racked his brain, flipping through every thought he had, but all he could do was keep insisting on the parasite story.
Smaug ignored them all, focusing calmly on shaving Thorin's hair.
"I don't like eating hair," Smaug muttered seriously.
"It doesn't digest well. Comes out later. Very troublesome."
"Yes! That's true!" the dumbest troll nodded vigorously, deeply agreeing.
"Clothes are the same," Smaug added casually.
"Right! Right!" the dumbest troll agreed again.
Slash, slash—
The sword was sharp. In just a few strokes, Thorin was shaved down to a neat little buzz cut. Then Smaug carefully sliced open Thorin's clothes.
Moments later—
Never in his life having suffered such humiliation, Thorin's face flushed red. He was practically about to explode with rage.
He was completely naked.
"Excellent," Smaug said, barely holding in laughter as he turned to the three idiot trolls.
"Now let's see whether there are parasites in his belly."
With that, Smaug released his grip.
Thorin dropped straight down, hitting the ground hard, his head ringing.
Smaug squatted, gripped the sword, and pretended to cut into Thorin's chest.
The three trolls, intensely curious about whether Dwarves had parasites, crowded in eagerly, eyes wide with innocent stupidity.
---
The situation was critical.
Beside them, Bilbo was drenched in sweat.
He desperately wanted to save Thorin—but he had no idea how.
Then—
A flash of insight struck him.
The four trolls' attention was completely fixed on Thorin Oakenshield.
They weren't paying any attention to him—or the other Dwarves.
If that was the case…
Then he could save as many as possible.
As for Thorin Oakenshield—
All Bilbo could say was… sorry.
Better to lose one than lose everyone.
Bilbo didn't hesitate. The moment the thought crossed his mind, he acted—quietly darting over to where Balin and the other Dwarves had been tossed aside. He snatched up a sword and hurriedly cut the ropes binding the nearest Dwarf.
Once the first was freed, the rest went much faster.
At the same time—
With his grand dream of reclaiming the kingdom still unfinished, Thorin Oakenshield had no intention of dying here. He struggled desperately to save himself.
His hands and feet were still bound—so how could he do anything?
The only option was to roll. Again and again, he threw himself sideways, doing everything he could to put distance between himself and the blade in Smaug's hand.
With his life hanging by a thread, Thorin no longer cared about dignity or pride.
Survival was all that mattered.
"This cursed Dwarf won't stop wriggling!" the dumbest troll complained irritably.
"I'll just smash him flat with one slap. Then we'll know if he's got parasites!"
"If you turn him into paste," Smaug shot back casually, turning his head, "how are you supposed to see the parasites?"
The dumbest troll scratched his head.
For the third time, he decided that made perfect sense.
By now, the other two idiot trolls had lost patience and started urging Smaug on.
"Then hurry up."
"Yeah! Dawn's coming!"
"Leave it to me," Smaug replied briskly. Then he suddenly turned and shouted,
"Damn it! That lying Hobbit has let the Dwarves escape!"
The moment they heard that—
All three trolls panicked.
They completely ignored Thorin, who was still rolling around on the ground, and jumped to their feet to chase Bilbo and the others.
Bilbo had been moving fast. By now, he had already freed most of the Dwarves.
Seeing the trolls notice them, two Dwarves immediately rushed toward Thorin, while the others grabbed weapons and charged bravely at the three trolls.
Everything happened in a blur.
Slash—slash—
The ropes binding Thorin's hands and feet were cut.
He was finally free.
Thorin scrambled to his feet, rage surging through him once more.
"Give me a sword!" he roared. "I'll kill him!"
"Forget it—we need to retreat!" a Dwarf beside him shouted urgently, grabbing Thorin's arm. No one in their right mind wanted to stay here another second.
"There is no retreat!" Thorin bellowed, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at Smaug—who was already strolling calmly toward the nearby woods.
Smaug merely chuckled, never looking back.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three—
Sword in hand, Thorin charged forward, dragging along two Dwarves who had no choice but to grit their teeth and follow.
And then—
"The dawn will destroy you all!"
Gandalf's voice rang out suddenly, cutting through the chaos like thunder.