Chapter 3 Challenges

"Of course, there is a problem," Carl stopped laughing and said slowly, "Since you mentioned value, you have to evaluate it carefully. Why do you think that you dwarves are worth more than me?"

"Is it because of ignorance? Or because of arrogance?" Carl's eyes also faded.

Although Thorin is one of the protagonists of the story, Carl's attitude towards this guy is not very good. Sometimes this guy is really too self-righteous.

He really thought that the world couldn't revolve around him, just because he was the son of the King under the Mountain, and because he was Thorin Oakenshield, could people unconditionally trust him to help?

Oh, what a joke.

Although Thorin is the protagonist, Carl has become accustomed to the rules of the world after all these years of wandering and will not be polite to him for this.

Since you want him to help, you must show your sincerity and directly take half of the wealth, which can be regarded as a punishment for him to show such a bad face to himself.

As Carl's words fell, the aura that the two of them saw suddenly became solidified and heavy.

"You want to know my worth?" Thorin looked at Carl coldly. "Very well, let's have a duel, and you'll find out."

"Oh?" Carl raised his eyebrows slightly. "You mean, whoever has the bigger fist is more valuable?"

As expected, he will be the king of dwarves in the future. This reasoning is really simple and crude, but it is exactly what Carl wants. He had never been afraid of anyone in a fight, even if the person standing in front of him was Thorin Oakenshield.

Hearing Carl's rhetorical question, the dwarves on the side suddenly laughed:

"Of course, boy, now I know I'm afraid, hahaha."

"Look at you with thin arms and thin legs. If you make a move, won't you be beaten to death?"

"So, being a human being, sometimes it's better not to be arrogant. Isn't it a lot of fun for everyone to be nice? You don't think so, Bilbo."

"Uh... yes." Bilbo also had no confidence in Carl and nodded worriedly.

Of course, he didn't like to see this kind of battle scene. Hobbits are born to like quiet and leisurely days.

The dwarves were talking, but Gandalf stood by and listened, though he was a little speechless. He felt that these guys were too naive.

Gandalf looked at Carl, and the memory flashed.

Three years ago, he was fortunate enough to invite Carl and him to investigate the massacre in a town in the Etern Moor, and it turned out that a group of giants were haunting there.

Giants, although they are not real Titans, but their distant relatives, they are as tall as 4-5 meters, with rough skin and thick flesh, and infinite strength. They are not something that ordinary people can easily deal with, let alone What about a group?

Although Gandalf was a wizard, he was only dressed in grey robes, and with his ability, he could not deal with so many giants at all.

But just when he was helpless and thought he could only watch these guys continue to kill and kill, Carl shot.

He even remembered Carl's excitement at that time, the drooling look that couldn't wait to rush up, which really left a lot of impressions on him.

Facts have also proved that Carl is indeed a lunatic, a powerful lunatic ranger.

The guy was terribly slippery, and every time he thought the giant's fist was about to smash him down, he would evade it with an enchanting twist. Of course, what's even more powerful is that the long swords in his hand, those human weapons made of ordinary iron, each accurately pierced into the eyes and throats of the giants.

All the giants were bruised and bruised by him, and finally found that they couldn't beat them and even tried to escape, but their limbs and... heads were cut off in Carl's unbrid

Since then, whenever Gandalf encountered difficulties, Carl would always be the first to think of, and Carl could always help him solve those problems perfectly.

Therefore, he really knows better than anyone about Carl's strength. Of course, the clarity here does not mean that he knows the depth of Carl's strength, but that he clearly knows that it is difficult for anyone to be his opponent.

He himself has not tried it. After all, he is a wizard, and his methods cannot be compared with humans after all.

However, now that Sorin wants to fight Carl, he is obviously really not optimistic about Sorin.

But Gandalf, thinking of Thorin's flamboyant look, did not stop him at once.

Carl had to be pulled into the team no matter what, so there had to be a compromise. He couldn't help Carl, so he could only feel sorry for Sorin.

Carl and Thorin exited the house.

"Boy, it's too late for you to regret it now, otherwise, don't blame me for the broken arm," Thorin reminded Carl with his long sword.

"You don't have to worry about it, I'm not a waste like Azog."

Hearing that, Thorin was secretly angry. Azog is a waste, so what is he? After thinking about it, he no longer hesitated and charged toward Carl with his sword in hand.

With a jump, with the unique ferocity of the king of dwarves, he slashed toward Carl.

Looking at the trajectory of the long sword falling slowly, Carl just felt that the blade was coming at an unusually slow pace.

The master-level swordsmanship made Sorin's movements full of flaws and loopholes in his opinion. If he wanted to, he could even pierce Sorin's heart with a single sword.

Sure enough, this guy still needs to grow up.

After thinking about it, Carl moved slightly sideways to avoid the slashing longsword, and then advanced halfway. His elbow cut through the air and struck Sorin's chest.

"Boom!"

*Clap clap clap!* Sorin staggered back, his steps unsteady.

"Damn," the pain in his chest fueled Sorin's anger. He couldn't believe he'd already lost in the first exchange. Were the humans before him truly stronger? Impossible. He was Sorin; he couldn't be so easily defeated.

After a moment's consideration, he charged forward once more.

Repulsed again, he charged again...

Carl observed Sorin like a raging bull, but there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes. Was a minor setback too much for him? Or was he simply basking in past glory, refusing to accept reality?

If that were the case, Thorin Oakenshield would indeed be a disappointment.

Finally, Carl grew tired of the game. As the longsword swung toward him once more, his own sword suddenly left his hand, twirling gracefully.

Sorin barely registered a blur before a series of soft thuds echoed, and he realized his sword had been disarmed.

"Not good!" In an instant, he prepared to act.

*Om!* A longsword pressed against his neck.