On the flight south from the Misty Mountains, Smaug gripped great eagle Thorondor carefully in his claws while Kael stood balanced on his broad back, feeling the rhythmic beat of wings beneath his feet.
Kael held a large box forged entirely of mithril alloy, its surface gleaming dully in the fading light. The box was remarkably sturdy, a gift from Balin himself.
Inside this container, Kael had cast an Extension Charm, barely managing to contain the frost dragon's massive corpse. The enchantment strained against the sheer bulk of the ancient beast, but it held.
Balin had originally invited Kael to visit the halls of Moria and rest there before returning home, but Kael urgently needed to return to Isengard to assess the damage and handle pressing affairs. He politely declined the generous offer.
Before leaving, he had gifted Balin one of the frost dragon's teeth as a token of gratitude and friendship.
Balin treasured this gift beyond measure, already making plans to work personally with other master dwarf craftsmen to forge a legendary dragon-tooth sword using mithril and that very tooth.
This dragon-tooth blade, carried by Lord Balin of Moria, would in future years become an inheritance treasure as renowned throughout Middle-earth as Durin's Axe itself. But that lay far in the future—Balin had only just received the tooth, and the sword's creation would take considerable time and skill.
Standing on Smaug's back as wind whipped past, Kael could feel the unnatural chill emanating from his dragon companion.
Having swallowed the dragon crystal whole, Smaug had temporarily lost his fire-breathing ability entirely. His body had turned cold to the touch, his breath freezing the air—he looked and felt more like a frost dragon than the golden fire-breather he truly was.
"Smaug, how long until you absorb the crystal completely?" Kael asked, raising his voice over the rushing wind.
"The frost dragon's crystal contains enormous accumulated energy, Master. Full absorption will take at least ten years," Smaug replied, his voice slightly strained.
"Ten years! That long?" Kael was genuinely surprised by the duration.
"That is not actually long, Master," Smaug shook his massive head carefully to avoid dislodging Kael. "This is a crystal from an ancient dragon born in the First Age, containing millennia of gathered power. Once I fully absorb its energy, I will become as powerful as that frost dragon was—no, even stronger! And eventually just as massive!"
"In merely ten years, I gain what took the frost dragon thousands of years to accumulate—benefits no dragon could ever dream of receiving!"
"So for these ten years, you cannot breathe fire at all?"
Dragon fire was Smaug's greatest natural weapon. Without it, he would be no different from the cold drakes that could not breathe fire, relying solely on physical strength.
Even weakened by the crystal's overwhelming chill, Smaug had clearly entered what dragons called a "vulnerable period." Encountering today's combat situation again during this time could prove extremely dangerous.
Smaug shook his head reassuringly, "Not exactly. In one or two years, I should be able to suppress the crystal's chill enough to breathe fire again, though not at full strength initially."
Hearing this more optimistic timeline, Kael relaxed somewhat.
At worst, for these one or two years, Smaug could remain safely in Weathertop's vast underground treasury until his vulnerable period passed and he could emerge stronger than ever.
Smaug hesitated, then spoke with awkward concern, "Master, after returning to Isengard, I will need to fall into deep hibernation to accelerate digestion and absorption of the crystal's power. I am afraid I will not be able to help you defend our territories during that time..."
Kael waved dismissively, his expression understanding, "Sleep as long as you need. Do not worry about other matters—your recovery and growth are most important."
After this catastrophic failure, Mordor likely would not act rashly against them again anytime soon. Sauron would need time to recover his forces and rethink his strategy.
And if any threats did arise, there were still the Great Eagle Thorondor, the Basilisk Herpo, the Giant Kraken guarding Weathertop, the Three-headed Dog Cerberus, and numerous other loyal creatures available for defense. No immediate rush existed.
On the return journey to Isengard, Kael also carefully retrieved the hibernating basilisk Herpo from where he had left him, gently packing the cold-stiffened serpent into the mithril box alongside the frost dragon's corpse.
Arriving at Isengard as the sun began setting, Kael surveyed the devastation with a heavy heart.
The landscape was thoroughly destroyed. Ancient trees lay splintered and uprooted. Massive boulders were shattered into fragments. The ground was pocked with deep craters from impacts and explosions. The once-sturdy defensive walls had been reduced to scattered ruins. Unmelted frost still coated everything in a glittering, deadly layer of ice.
Even the famously sturdy Orthanc Tower had suffered significant damage. Its peaked top had collapsed entirely, and the uppermost floors were exposed to the elements.
The scene was one of utter devastation.
Seeing the extent of destruction, Kael frowned deeply and sighed with genuine regret.
This was the first large-scale military attack on any territory under his protection. Fortunately, this was not densely populated Weathertop with its bustling city of Hogsmeade.
Otherwise, losses would have been truly catastrophic, with countless subjects dead and entire districts destroyed beyond repair.
Dunlending warriors and Rohirrim cavalry still maintained vigilant guard positions around Orthanc's base, alert and watching for any sign of enemy return.
Led by Chief Brog, several squads of warriors rode hippogriffs on regular aerial patrol routes.
Higher up, Griffin Aslan, with his superior vision, maintained overwatch, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon in all directions.
On the frozen ground, Cerberus had unusually refrained from attacking the nearby human warriors. His three massive heads constantly swiveled, watching three different directions simultaneously, remaining alert for any approaching enemies.
Seeing Smaug, Kael, and Thorondor finally appear on the horizon, everyone's anxious hearts settled with profound relief.
"Lord Kael!" voices called out in unison.
Warriors rushed forward joyfully, grateful to see their lord returned safely.
"Lord Kael, what happened to the Great Eagle?" Chief Brog asked with obvious concern, seeing Thorondor released carefully by Smaug's claws.
"One wing was frozen by the frost dragon's breath. He cannot fly temporarily, but he will recover with time and rest," Kael explained calmly.
Thorondor cried out loudly in agreement, signaling to everyone that he was indeed alright despite his injury.
Unable to fly temporarily, he walked on two powerful legs with a bearing that was simultaneously dominating and somewhat comical—a mighty predator reduced to ground travel.
King Théngel also approached with urgent inquiry, "Wizard Kael, what about the frost dragon? Did it manage to escape into the mountains?"
Kael smiled faintly and lifted his mithril box for all to see.
"Right here."
Everyone stared in complete disbelief, eyes widening.
"My lord, you mean the frost dragon is actually dead?" Brog asked in genuine shock, barely able to process this information.
Kael nodded with quiet satisfaction, opening the box's enchanted lid.
Everyone crowded closer to peer inside at the vast expanded space, packed tight with a thousand-meter dragon corpse that still radiated bone-deep cold even in death.
In the narrow gaps between the dragon's coiled body lay the hibernating form of Herpo, perfectly still.
Seeing the frost dragon's unmistakable corpse with their own eyes, everyone finally accepted its death as reality.
They were simultaneously shocked and wildly excited.
They had all personally witnessed the frost dragon's terrible power during battle—like a living natural disaster, it had nearly destroyed all of Isengard through sheer elemental force.
Yet somehow, Kael had killed this legendary ancient dragon.
The martial Dunlendings now worshipped Kael with even greater awe and reverence than before, seeing him as truly legendary.
Even the proud Rohirrim cavalry gazed at him with burning admiration in their eyes.
King Théngel himself was no exception to this newfound respect.
"Lord Kael, here is your golden bow, returned with gratitude," Brog respectfully handed back the precious weapon.
The mithril arrows had all been expended during the intense previous battles against Mordor's forces.
"Wizard Kael, here is your horn, returning it to its rightful owner," King Théngel also returned the Horn of Victory, though his eyes betrayed deep reluctance.
This horn's battlefield effectiveness had been tremendous—boosting allies' morale and physical strength while summoning distant companions, and simultaneously weakening enemy courage while disrupting their coordination and focus.
Such a powerful artifact—King Théngel had personally experienced its incredible might during combat.
In previous battles, though Théngel had not directly engaged in melee combat, the Horn's continuous support had provided tremendous tactical advantage to their forces.
If Rohan possessed such an artifact permanently, they would be nearly invincible against conventional enemies.
Even with his famously strong willpower and sense of honor, Théngel felt genuine reluctance parting with it.
But he knew he lacked both the ability and the legitimate claim to possess such powerful artifacts long-term, so he proactively returned it without hesitation despite his feelings.
Kael accepted both the golden bow and Horn of Victory without any hesitation or commentary, simply nodding his acknowledgment.
Then he looked at both leaders with sincere gratitude, "Thank you both deeply for coming to aid Isengard today despite grave danger. You saved this place from complete destruction. To properly show my gratitude, I have prepared gifts for you both."
At his sharp whistle, the hippogriffs flew over in formation and landed gracefully.
Kael patted the lead hippogriff affectionately, then smiled warmly at Chief Brog, "Brog, you risked everything returning from Rohan's distant battlefield to aid Isengard when we were most vulnerable—I have felt your profound loyalty personally. So as thanks and permanent reward, these hippogriffs are now yours entirely, becoming your tribal mounts and lifelong companions."
Hearing this unexpected generosity, Brog and the other Dunlending warriors showed expressions of pure joy and disbelief.
"Thank you for Lord Kael's incredible grace! We will care for them with our very lives!" Brog excitedly promised, voice thick with emotion.
The Dunlendings had always loved and admired the hippogriffs, but they had always known these magnificent creatures belonged to their lord. They had never dared to covet them as their own.
Unexpectedly, their lord was now gifting them to the Dunlending people permanently.
This generous gesture sent Brog and the other Dunlending warriors into absolute ecstasy.
Nearby, King Théngel watched with obvious envy written across his weathered face.
He desperately wanted a hippogriff for himself as well!
Kael then turned his full attention to King Théngel with a knowing smile.
"King Théngel, when Rohan faced its own mortal crisis, you resolutely led half your precious cavalry to support Isengard anyway, risking your kingdom's safety. I am profoundly grateful and humbly accept this demonstration of deep friendship between our peoples."
He presented an exquisite sapphire brooch to King Théngel, the gem catching the dying sunlight beautifully.
"This is an enchanted Portkey. When Rohan faces a genuine crisis in the future, whether you or your descendants hold it, simply tap the sapphire three times with intention. It will instantly transport the holder directly to me, wherever I may be, and I will provide immediate aid once to honor our friendship today."
Hearing the brooch's incredible function explained, King Théngel's eyes lit up with understanding and profound appreciation.
This brooch was not merely a life-saving tool but represented Kael's solemn promise of future aid—far more valuable than gold or jewels.
Now he no longer envied the Dunlendings their hippogriffs at all.
Though hippogriffs were undeniably rare and magnificent creatures, how could they possibly compare to Kael's binding promise of intervention?
King Théngel felt immensely glad he had chosen to provide support despite the risks. Otherwise, he would never have gained such a precious talisman for his kingdom.
He silently decided to make this brooch a sacred royal heirloom, to be used only when Rohan faced potential extinction, passing it down carefully through generations as the ultimate trump card.
After exchanging words with King Théngel, Kael looked at the other assembled warriors, not forgetting their contributions either.
He smiled broadly, announcing to the entire gathering, "To celebrate today's hard-won victory over Mordor's forces, we will host an outdoor barbecue feast—with dragon meat as the main ingredient!"
He pointed at the numerous sub-dragon corpses still littering the frozen ground throughout Isengard.
In this siege of Isengard, the sub-dragons had suffered the most catastrophic casualties of any force involved.
Saruman's entire force of evil dragons had been completely annihilated without a single survivor.
Kael's own fire dragons had also suffered significant losses, though not as severe.
To properly reward nearly ten thousand battle-weary Dunlending warriors and Rohirrim cavalry for their courage and sacrifice, Kael prepared to host them generously with these dead sub-dragons as feast meat.
Hearing this unprecedented announcement, the assembled warriors erupted in roaring excitement and disbelief.
Eat dragon meat? Everyone found it nearly unbelievable yet deeply anticipated the experience.
That was actual dragon flesh! They would have the incredible fortune to taste dragon meat this very day?
Seeing everyone excited and energized despite their exhaustion, Kael's smile remained warm.
"But before that feast begins, I will restore our surroundings first."
He raised his wand purposefully, the Ring of Power on his finger also glowing with awakened power. The surrounding devastated environment seemed to reverse through time itself—pocked ground continuously repaired itself, filling craters and smoothing surfaces. Ruined walls reassembled stone by stone, mortar flowing back into place...
Everyone watched this display of godlike power in profound shock and awe.
Their collective gaze fell on that tall figure standing before Orthanc with even greater worship and reverence than before, seeing him as something far beyond mortal.