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It was only half a day later when Kael met Thorin Oakenshield again, this time within the Dwarf-king's own hall.

"It's you, the black-robed wizard." A flicker of surprise crossed Thorin's sharp eyes at Kael's reappearance. He frowned slightly. "So, you are the one who commissioned the reforging of the ancient sword?"

Kael held no particular affection for Thorin, but now, needing the Dwarf-king's aid to reforge the blade he had taken from the Barrow-wight, he had no choice but to come in person.

"We meet again, Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, grandson of Thrór, King Under the Mountain." Kael, imitating Gandalf's formal address, nodded in greeting. "I seized an ancient sword from a Barrow-wight in the Barrow-downs, but the blade has suffered the erosion of time and dark magic. It has long lost its former sharpness and resilience. I heard that the Dwarven race is unmatched in the craft of forging, so I hoped you might see if it can be remade."

The terrifying reputation of the Barrow-downs was known even to the Dwarves, and the name Barrow-wight alone made them tremble. Thorin had heard Gandalf mention that Kael had ventured into the Barrow-downs alone, but he hadn't expected the Wizard to actually return with a blade seized from one of its cursed denizens. This gave him a clear and potent understanding of Kael's strength for the first time.

Such a person, no matter how proud Thorin was, he would treat with caution. He stepped down from his seat and said to Kael, "Forging is as simple as eating and drinking for us. We accept your business!"

"But before that, may I see the ancient sword?"

Kael handed over the Barrow-blade he had brought.

Thorin took the ancient greatsword; though longer than he was tall, it felt almost weightless in his hand, held with just one hand. He carefully examined it, the regal solemnity fading from his face, replaced for the first time by the focused seriousness of a master craftsman. "The casting process is complex. The blade is diamond-shaped, suitable for both thrusting and slashing. The hilt is designed for one hand, the guard is a bronze crescent, and there's a White Tree emblem…"

"Is this a treasured blade belonging to the royal family of Númenor?" Thorin looked at Kael, his tone one of certainty.

Kael nodded, explaining, "It once belonged to the last prince of the Kingdom of Cardolan."

Thorin understood immediately. Dwarven history recorded Cardolan, one of the three kingdoms that split from the great Kingdom of Arnor. He knew that this kingdom, established by the descendants of the Númenóreans, was ultimately destroyed by the Witch-king of Angmar. The Númenóreans, taught by the Noldor—the most skilled blacksmiths among the Elves—had mastered superb forging techniques. Even the dwarves, who were naturally adept at the forge, would not underestimate the craftsmanship of Númenor.

Thorin held the ancient sword, pondering for a moment. He then looked at Kael, his eyes burning with intensity, and said, "I will personally forge this sword for you. I will invite the most excellent craftsmen of my clan to aid me. Not only will it regain its former sharpness, but it will become more powerful than ever before…"

Hearing Thorin's words, Kael's face showed no joy. Instead, he gazed at him seriously, directly asking, "What are your conditions?" He didn't believe Thorin would be so generous as to use the full strength of his clan to help him reforge the ancient sword without a price.

"I want to invite you to join the expedition to the Lonely Mountain," Thorin stated his purpose. "To help us fight the dragon."

Kael frowned, looking at the dwarf prince in confusion. "Have you forgotten that I already agreed to Gandalf's request to join your expedition?" Why would he use this as a condition?

Thorin shook his head. "No, you don't understand. I want to invite you to join my expedition, not Gandalf's!"

Kael was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood Thorin's meaning, and was instantly astonished. Good heavens, the expedition team hadn't even been fully assembled yet, and this Dwarf prince was already trying to seize power, attempting to snatch leadership from Gandalf. Was he trying to poach Gandalf's recruits?

Kael was a bit speechless, but he still shook his head and said, "Although I agreed to join the expedition, I am joining only as a collaborator. I am not subject to anyone's command, whether the leader is you or Gandalf."

Thorin's expression turned somewhat gloomy upon hearing this. Ever since the Dragon occupied the Lonely Mountain and he was forced into exile, with no one offering aid, he had ceased to trust anyone. Not even Gandalf. However, reclaiming the homeland of the Lonely Mountain was not only his father Thráin's obsession but also his own burning ambition to revitalize the line of Durin.

So he reproposed his conditions: "The previous conditions remain unchanged. As the heir of the Durin clan, I formally invite you to join the expedition. You need not obey my commands, but you must ensure that you fully help me reclaim the Lonely Mountain. How about it?"

Kael's eyes flickered. He knew that even without him, Thorin and the others would eventually reclaim the Lonely Mountain. But he still shook his head, chuckling. "Your demand is not low. One sword is not worth that price."

Thorin gritted his teeth. "Plus one-tenth of the Lonely Mountain's treasure! As long as you help me reclaim the Lonely Mountain, I can share the treasure within it with you!"

At this, Kael's spirits lifted. He knew that the Lonely Mountain's treasure was piled high like a mountain, the richest place in all of Middle-earth. Even one-tenth of it would be wealth comparable to an entire kingdom.

"Alright," Kael agreed, "but we need to sign a contract." After all, he remembered that Thorin had a family affliction, the 'Dragon Sickness.' As soon as he came into contact with the Lonely Mountain's treasure, he would lose his sanity and become madly paranoid, filled with greed and possessiveness for the gold.

However, at this time, Thorin was not affected by the sickness, and he readily agreed to Kael's condition. Moreover, he believed that with a contract, Kael would be more dedicated to helping them reclaim their home, rather than giving up halfway.

Thus, with mutual consent, and witnessed by a host of Dwarven kin and elders, Kael and Thorin signed the contract. It stated the conditions under which Kael would join the expedition and help the dwarves reclaim the Lonely Mountain. In return, the clan of Durin would use the full strength of their clan to help him reforge the ancient sword, and after reclaiming the Lonely Mountain, one-tenth of its treasure would be gifted to Kael.

Afterward, Kael remained in the Dwarven territory.

Thorin and the other Dwarf craftsmen then began to reforge Kael's precious sword. The place for sword casting was not in the town but deep inside the mine tunnels of the Blue Mountains, thousands of meters underground, using the heat of the earth's core to melt the ancient Barrow-blade.

The dwarves did not hide their process from Kael, so he had the privilege of riding a winch-driven mine cart, descending thousands of meters into the fiery heart of the mountain. Here, the temperature rose dramatically, and the ground was a sea of fiery red magma.

On a colossal basalt forging platform, Thorin and two other craftsmen, bare-armed and clad in leather armor, wielded huge iron hammers, continuously pounding the glowing red metal. The three moved in a continuous and orderly fashion, striking the billet with a mysterious and complex rhythm, producing rhythmic clanging sounds. Sparks flew, and the sounds echoed incessantly in the vast cavern, like a battle song of clashing weapons and charging horses.

Kael stood not far away, quietly watching this scene, his eyes filled with anticipation. The surrounding scorching heat seemed to have no effect on him; he still wore his thick, long cloak, which emitted a cool sensation, as if brushed by a mountain spring, dispelling the surrounding heat waves.

(End of Chapter)

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