This night somehow went by as planned by Lann and Bard.
The nighttime temperature became even more piercing after the snowfall, sitting by the fire pit still made one's body feel numb.
Fortunately, the underground shelter was cleared out in advance, allowing the elderly and children to go inside collectively and be taken care of uniformly, thus preventing anyone from freezing to death tonight.
The morning sun rose from the snow line along the Lonely Mountain, which finally brought a sigh of relief to everyone.
And over time, the news of Smaug's death had spread like a bird with wings, reaching the ears of those with keen interest all around.
In the southwest of Smaug's Wasteland, a massive black army was traversing the barren wasteland.
Shadows of clouds occasionally left gloomy and fleeting traces on the earth-toned wasteland.
But those gloomy shadows could not compare to this army.
