Bear School Astartes

Chapter 1063 - 1045: Holy White Council

Lady Galadriel, before coming to this world, Lann was entrusted by the Lady of the Lake with the task of ’greeting this old friend’.

But in this vast and dangerous yet wondrous world, it had been almost two months before Lann finally met the person he was looking for.

To be honest, Lann felt... merely seeing the Elf Queen before him made all the troubles and dangers previously endured worthwhile.

Standing before him, Lady Galadriel’s sacred and noble essence seemed as natural as the sun and moon, without comparison.

"I’ve heard, you’ve been looking for me, Yadanisil."

Galadriel slowly approached from beneath the stone archway facing the cliff, smiling as she spoke.

It seemed she deliberately subdued her extraordinary presence, for when Galadriel spoke now, her voice was no longer as ethereal and distant as when they first met, just simply pleasant.

The striking beauty of her long hair no longer emitted a soul-stirring golden-silver gleam.

She stood before Lann, looking up at the young Demon Hunter’s face under the moonlight, her expression showed joy and appreciation at seeing something beautiful.

"Ah, you truly live up to that name."

Lann, unusually, felt a bit nervous and took a small deep breath.

"I was entrusted to bring you greetings, Lady Galadriel. It is from your old friend."

Saying this, the young Demon Hunter drew Aron Dite from his left waist, still in its sheath, and offered it before him.

"Please look."

The Elf Queen’s expression froze; it was the first time since appearing before Lann that she revealed an unexpected look.

This slightly lessened her innate sacred aura in Lann’s eyes but rendered her more approachable.

She gently raised her finger, not unsheathing the Lady of the Lake’s Sword, but merely tapped the hilt lightly, a look of realization and a smile of fond memories appeared on her face.

"I understand now."

She withdrew her hand and glanced at the young Demon Hunter.

"Indeed, an old friend... we can discuss later."

Lann could tell that Galadriel was pleased to hear news about the Lady of the Lake, but today’s meeting was to discuss important matters, and personal reminiscence could be delayed.

The Elf Queen had a great sense of the bigger picture.

"Long time no see, Mistlandir."

Turning, Galadriel addressed Gandalf with a string of lyrics as beautiful as poetic chanting.

This was Elvish, a language Lann had largely mastered through Mentos’ recording ability and his own learning skills during his two weeks in Rivendell.

Thus he could understand it.

"I am deeply honored, my lady."

Gandalf humbly and sincerely bowed, and showed a smiling face as old friends reunited.

"It’s a pity there just isn’t time, or else I would of course visit Lothlorien Forest to catch up with you."

Gandalf turned to look at Elrond: "I didn’t expect Lord Elrond would invite you as well."

Yet voices from the other end of this open-air mountaintop platform caused Gandalf’s relaxed expression upon seeing old friends to suddenly drop, tightening up.

"He didn’t invite."

It was a steady, calm, elderly male voice; an elder with white long hair, wearing a clean white robe, and holding an iron magic staff, stepped up from there.

"I did."

Beside him, Lann keenly noticed that Gandalf, who was usually carefree and relaxed, was slowly turning his body from facing Elrond to facing this elder.

Moreover, during this process, his face bore a strange expression...

To put it bluntly, it was the feeling of facing an incompatible superior, yet having to muster a smile to greet them.

"Saruman!"

Lann did not know what the essence of this world’s so-called ’Wizards’ was, but he felt Gandalf’s essence surely wasn’t fond of acting.

The forced cheerfulness within this greeting was purely awkward.

However, evidently, this Saruman seemed accustomed, not bothering to mind Gandalf’s stance.

Thus, he simply nodded, a response of basic courtesy.

"You seem very busy lately, my friend."

The hawk-nosed elder’s gaze shifted to Lann.

"And this one... Radagast’s agent?"

"Why have I never heard of such a person in Middle-earth? Quite accomplished for someone so young."

In Lann’s eyes, Saruman emanated a sacred white glow akin to Gandalf and Radagast.

Even in terms of presence, he surpassed both combined.

Yet the feeling he imparted was not one of ease.

Gandalf gave Lann a sense of harmony, approachable.

Radagast was close to nature, unrestrained.

Their powers were indeed of the same nature, yet the feeling given to Lann varied.

Whereas Saruman before him, though possessing the same divine power as the other two Wizards, wielded authority and might to assert dominance and exhibited arrogance.

"My power is holy and mighty, so what I say is right."

...The feeling exuding from Saruman made Lann feel a sense of constraint and unease.

"This meeting of yours, it seems you’re discussing some major issues?"

Lann suddenly spoke up.

"Am I suitable to be here?"

He had already discerned the implication hidden in Saruman’s words.

Saruman claimed he hadn’t heard of someone named Lann.

He appeared with a strong aura, presenting himself as an important figure. By saying that, he was essentially stating, in the capacity of the meeting’s leader, that Lann was unsuitable to participate in these matters.

"Of course suitable! Of course suitable!"

Gandalf immediately interjected from the side.

"Ah, Saruman! My old friend!"

"But we are also old friends of Radagast, aren’t we? We know him, right? How long has he been madly running around in the Dark Forest? Must be a few hundred years by now?"

"He made friends you don’t know, so what? It’s very normal, right! After all, we haven’t visited the Dark Forest many times."

"But I personally witnessed them covering for me, facing the Warg Riders of the Beastmen, cooperating seamlessly!"

"In the end, Radagast, as always, shirked the trouble, dumped everything on Lann, and slipped away on his rabbit sleigh. Elrond saw it with his own eyes."

The Elf Lord, standing at the back, nodded, affirming Gandalf’s words.

Saruman, seeing two of the attendees affirming Lann’s involvement, was silent for a moment, then turned to look at Galadriel.

"Esteemed lady, what do you think? Adding someone to our meeting temporarily?"

Galadriel’s voice was calm and unhurried.

She did not respond to the exclusion implied in Saruman’s words.

"This is good, Saruman."

"I can vouch for him; he is a virtuous and beautiful life."

This was equivalent to unanimous approval.

Saruman’s face remained impassive, seemingly unconcerned about being contradicted.

"Then so be it, let us begin our discussion."

-----------------

Once everyone had finished negotiating, Saruman and Gandalf sat opposite each other at the only stone table on the platform, clearly prepared for questioning.

The other three stood nearby, without fixed seats.

The Dwarves had dismantled the Elven furniture for a barbecue party, which lasted late into the night.

When the small meeting was called, the sky was already gray and dawn-like. Now settled in their seats, the warm and gentle sunlight of dawn mingled with the not yet fully departed moonlight, shining down.

But all present were no ordinary beings; a whole night without sleep did not affect them at all.

This meeting arose because of the Dwarves’ Reconquest Expedition Team, so it was only natural for Gandalf, the one who orchestrated the entire group, to be questioned.

"Tell me, Gandalf."

As the questioner, Saruman sat calmly and opened his mouth with composure.

"Do you really think your plan and actions remain unnoticed? Unseen?"

Gandalf propped both elbows on the stone table, cautiously weighing his words.

"I wouldn’t be so conceited as to think no one can see through my plans; at least the Beastmen have already set their sights on my group. But I must emphasize: everything I have done is necessary."

"Is it truly necessary, Gandalf?"

Standing at the edge of the platform, watching the mingling of dawn and moonlight, Galadriel spoke softly.

"I know you have always harbored a deep concern regarding the dragon of the Lonely Mountain. Could this cloud your judgment?"

Gandalf unabashedly nodded.

"A deep concern, yes. Smaug is the common enemy of all good and beautiful lives. He is a descendant of that ancient evil race created by Morgoth."

"Dragons have a reputation that has endured through the ages. Glaurung, Morgoth’s initial trial product, could not fly yet possessed a cunning mind. Later came the pinnacle of evil creativity, the dragon Ankala Gang, whose wings could cloak mountains."

"Of course, that ancient shadow has been banished into the Void Realm after the wars of the First Era by the great powers of the West, but his creations still leave endless poison...like Smaug."

"Although it will not genuinely take orders from anyone other than its creator, we must still be cautious...cautious of it allying with our enemies as a collaborator."

"The harm that could bring would be immeasurable!"

Lann and Elrond quietly listened; the two stood very close, with Lann leaning against the Elves’ exquisite marble pillar, arms crossed.

These tales of ancient times, even in the Elves’ records, have only a few scattered words left.

And everyone present, except Lann, displayed extraordinary familiarity, as if they were witnesses.

Among them, Elrond, closest to Lann, displayed a glimmer of remembrance in his eyes when Ankala Gang, the absurd dragon whose wings alone could shadow mountains, was mentioned.

And instinctively, he glanced toward the sky.

Elrond and Galadriel, the two Elves, pondered and paced during this inquiry.

While Lann remained in a position offering a complete view of the proceedings, observing the questioning unfold.