LOTR: The Mincraft Player

Sometimes, things appear useless only because we haven't discovered the proper way to use them.

Take fireworks, for instance.

In Garrett's world, fireworks could actually inflict damage, it was simply that they were usually launched skyward and struck no enemies. However, there was a method to adjust their trajectory, using a crossbow.

If you loaded fireworks into a crossbow, you could make them fire straight toward your target, until they struck something or exploded at their maximum range.

The explosive power of a firework was proportional to the number of gunpowder charges used in its construction. Maximum damage could exceed ten points, comparable to a shot from a fully enchanted bow. But fireworks caused area-of-effect damage, making them potentially more effective against groups.

Against weak, unarmored creatures, they might retain some lethality. But against a dragon with hide tougher than netherite...

"Are you celebrating my victory already?"

"You talk far too much."

Garrett put away the flash bombs and the firework-loaded crossbow, drew his longsword, and struck at Smaug's foreclaw. In the middle of the dragon's melodious roar of fury, he slipped away through the tunnel.

---

Experiment Log: Fireworks

Maximum damage roughly equivalent to a fully enchanted bow. Like flash bombs, they deal area damage, but consume significantly more materials.

Neither could penetrate the dragon's natural armor. However, judging from Smaug's expression and level of rage, the fireworks at least had some impact, not entirely worthless.

Assessment: Effective against targets with relatively low armor ratings, such as orcs or wargs.

Range-wise, flash bombs depend primarily on throwing strength, while fireworks vary with gunpowder load, anywhere from 30 to 70 meters. Limited range, but still practical.

If soldiers could be equipped with these weapons, a coordinated volley would create quite the spectacle...

---

In the corridor, Smaug stared at the two-block-high tunnel entrance, waiting for the mortal to emerge. Behind him, he had prepared several chunks of stone.

After being ambushed and evaded by Garrett multiple times, the dragon had finally grown more cunning. He planned to seal the tunnel with rocks the moment Garrett appeared, cutting off his escape route.

What Smaug didn't realize was that Garrett harbored the exact same intention.

At that very moment, he was digging behind the corridor, planning to block off Smaug's retreat entirely, to teach the dragon what it meant to be a trapped beast.

In less than a day, while Smaug remained oblivious, he had completely sealed every passage leading from the lower treasury.

Smaug still had no idea that he would never return to his treasure-filled vault again.

Just as Garrett finished blocking the exits and returned to the throne hall in full battle gear, ready to consume potions and eliminate the now-trapped boss, a company of dwarves burst through the entrance, panting heavily.

"Wait! Wait! Don't proceed yet!"

"There's no need, truly, no need!"

The course of events suddenly shifted.

"Whew, we've returned, Garrett. Ha, it appears we arrived just in time."

The dwarves blocked Garrett, sweating buckets, clattering as they dropped a heap of components and collapsed on the floor. Many of them, parched from their journey, pulled out their water flasks and drank deeply on the spot.

Bombur even threw himself beside the infinite water source and began gulping like a thirsty ox, nearly tumbling in headfirst.

"Drink slower."

Garrett grabbed the rotund dwarf and pulled him back to prevent him from falling into the spring.

"Quite a surprise indeed. I thought it'd take you guys a few more days. I was already considering how to prepare dragon steaks."

"Since our departure, we haven't paused for a single moment. Not even a second's rest," Balin muttered, utterly exhausted.

Dwarves aren't known for their endurance, and if they'd really been rushing at full speed the whole way, no wonder they looked half-dead.

Never mind old Balin and portly Bombur, even the hardiest among them, Thorin himself, was too tired to speak, too drained for one of his customary passionate speeches.

"We couldn't allow you to face everything alone. Behold, we've brought back everything that can counter that dragon."

"This will certainly aid you."

The dwarves stepped aside, revealing a Man who had been frowning throughout the entire journey and had barely relaxed his expression once. They presented him to Garrett.

He carried a longbow across his back and held in his hands a massive, black arrow the size of a javelin.

Well, they actually brought the guy here.

"You're the legendary warrior, Garrett, correct?"

Before Garrett could respond, Bard spoke first.

"You know me?"

"No, we've never met before. But I've heard tales of your deeds. Several months past, Lake-town sheltered some refugees. They spoke your name with reverence and told your stories."

"They described a black-armored warrior roaming the Vales of Anduin, whose blade could burst into flames, striking terror into any orc who beheld it. Single-handedly, he faced savage orcs and wargs, and alongside a wise wizard, rescued the folk dwelling on both sides of the river."

"Well met. I am Bard of Lake-town."

He offered a respectful nod. In truth, he was quite surprised, the dwarves had never mentioned their acquaintance with this legendary figure.

You might have mentioned this earlier. Had I known, I would have assisted from the beginning.

Though he held no particular fondness for dwarves in general, he showed genuine respect for this fellow Man who had clearly saved many lives.

"Well met, Bard. I imagine you already know why we're here. The dragon is inside."

Garrett gestured toward an opening in the distant wall. Bard couldn't help but glance over, curiosity pulling him a few steps closer.

"No, I suggest you don't go too near. That dragon has a filthy mouth. If you don't want your ears sullied, stay back."

Smaug was still ranting within, his voice truly worthy of the title "golden throat." He'd been shouting for ages and showed no signs of growing hoarse.

"So, what's the plan? Assemble the wind lance and shoot that dragon dead? But we have only one shot. That arrow has to hit its heart."

Every eye turned toward Bard.

"I shall do it."

The archer's gaze was steady, showing no trace of fear, as though this were merely another hunt.

Garrett studied the marksman and nodded approvingly.

Bard was indeed someone you could depend upon. Even if the dragon were soaring overhead breathing fire, so long as it threatened the townsfolk, he would still charge forward with nothing but an ordinary bow to draw its attention.

"I have a plan."

After a brief rest, Thorin suddenly spoke.

"Beyond the corridor lies a secret passage, just wide enough for the dragon to enter."

"If it attempts to pursue someone through that route, it will be forced to expose its chest. And once it's committed to the passage, there's no retreating. We can position the wind lance at the far end and lure it inside. After that... it falls to our marksman."

He raised his head and regarded Bard seriously. "If this operation succeeds, I shall make you a vow, a king's promise. You may request anything, provided it doesn't violate the dwarves' most sacred principles."

Bard glanced at Thorin and gave a slight nod.

"I hope you prove more honorable than your grandfather."

Thorin froze, clenched his fists, and remained silent. But his expression visibly darkened.

No one paid much attention to the moment.

Soon, the thirteen dwarves, two Men, and one hobbit gathered in council to discuss the plan's specifics.

Garrett asked about the secret passage's location, then suddenly clapped his hands.

"Ah, that passage you mentioned? I blocked it earlier. But no worries, I'll tear it down in a bit."

Blocked it?

At first, Thorin didn't quite understand, how do you block a whole hidden passage? But then, from the corner of his eye, he glimpsed the massive stone barrier that now blocked the throne hall entrance, and it all made sense.

Aye, that would certainly do it.

"Excellent."

He decided to stop questioning Garrett's methods. So long as the results proved effective, that was enough.

"But the key to this plan," Garrett continued, "is having a decoy."

"This person needs to be agile and able to traverse all kinds of terrain. Also, they shouldn't be too tall, some of these dwarf-sized tunnels wouldn't accommodate a bigger person. With a dragon chasing close behind, tripping over something wouldn't just leave you with scrapes. Among us, the one who best fits that description—"

Bilbo looked around, took a deep breath, and stepped forward: "I..."

"I suppose that would be me," declared Thorin, placing a firm hand upon Bilbo's shoulder and gently pushing him back.