That was an arrow.

Lann’s eyes precisely captured the object shooting towards the faceplate of the Qilin.

But unlike ordinary arrows, this arrow’s head was angular and exquisitely crafted. Moreover, the force with which it was shot... clearly it wasn’t a crossbow arrow, yet it was even more powerful than an ordinary crossbow?

The archer and the bow used also seemed extraordinary.

But it wasn’t really troublesome.

"Meow!"

Rong Buqiu, sitting in Lann’s arms, suddenly leaped from the Qilin’s back, climbing up its long neck to the top of its head!

One of the kitten’s paws clutched the Qilin’s azure horns, while the other held the Thunder Cat Sword.

With a crisp ’ding’, the arrow shooting towards the Qilin was sliced and deflected.

Then the Qilin tossed its head upwards, and Rong Buqiu, holding onto the azure horns to steady itself, was flung back onto its back.

The two usually played well together, so their coordination was perfect.

This series of actions flowed seamlessly like water.

However, these fluid and unexpectedly effortless movements left the group in front more astonished.

"An elf! Pointy ears!"

"Bullshit! Have you ever seen an elf that small?"

They were all male with rough and bold voices. Although it was just a fleeting moment, someone managed to figure out the gist.

When Rong Buqiu landed back on the saddle, the Qilin carried Lann fully into the group’s view.

All of them fell silent.

They looked up in surprise, or unconsciously took a few respectful steps back, then looked up again.

To these people, sitting on the Qilin’s back, Lann seemed rather too tall.

This was a group of dwarves, among whom there was an elderly man in a gray robe standing close to 1.9 meters if you count the pointed hat.

Fourteen short statures.

Though short, they were sturdy, robust, and powerful.

Their appearances varied, even to the point of being peculiar, but invariably, the dwarves had a variety of lush beards.

And these people seemed to have just gone through a tough battle, their bodies disheveled and tired, carrying a foul stench.

No, they weren’t all dwarves... there was also a half-elf.

It was a male in a small red suit jacket, not out of place height-wise among the dwarves.

But he wasn’t strong or sturdy, not wearing boots, with large soles thickly calloused, and thick hair on the feet’s back.

Lann felt a moment of misplaced bewilderment.

In the Magic Middle Ages, his assets were first mismanaged due to his dwarf friend’s investment failure, then he found a trustworthy shapeshifter to manage the funds, and the form that shapeshifter most commonly took was a half-elf.

And now, at the other end of a celestial convergence, he encountered dwarves and a half-elf again.

However, compared to those shrewd and clever half-elves in the Magic Middle Ages, why did this one feel... a bit adorable?

The Qilin didn’t feel hostility or annoyance from the arrow shot towards its face earlier.

To be honest, even if that arrow had hit, given the New Continent Ancient Dragon’s physical resilience, it would probably just break the skin.

Moreover, with just a slight head tilt, the faceplate on the magic horse harness would have deflected the arrow.

So that arrow didn’t pose a threat to the Qilin at all.

Now its bowl-sized hooves pattered and stepped on the fallen leaves in the small forest.

Lann sat on its back, overlooking this strange ensemble.

And in the eyes of the group of dwarves opposite...

"He’s huge!"

A round, nearly spherical red-haired dwarf tightly gripped his axe, murmuring to his uncertain companion.

"That freak horse is huge too! And that cat! Am I seeing this right? Does the cat have two swords? What on earth is all this?!"

A dwarf next to him, wearing a leather hat, was also muttering.

"We took down three ogres, are we afraid of his size? Don’t be intimidated, Bombo!"

"But those three ogres weren’t defeated by us, Gandalf did it..."

"Shut up! We were about to win even before Gandalf showed up!"

The thirteen dwarves, along with a half-elf and a gray-robed human elder, were divided into several groups, standing at different positions.

It seemed like they weren’t ordinary miners or blacksmiths; their strategic stance indicated they were experienced veterans with group combat expertise.

Among the group of dwarves standing slightly further away, a young and handsome dwarf looked suspiciously at the bow in his hand.

It was a fine dwarven bow, not as light as an elven longbow, but its body was sturdy, and its shooting power strong.

Yet after shooting it... the arrow got sliced by a cat?

Isn’t there something wrong here!

The Qilin paced, curiously watching the group, Lann rising and falling on its back.

"Gray robe."

Suddenly, as the dwarves grew more tense, their gaze gradually entering into a combat state, Lann spoke to that human elder.

"Gray Robe Gandalf?"

He appeared tall among ordinary people, with gray-white hair under his pointed hat and a large bushy beard cascading down to his belly.

Judging purely by appearance... it was indeed Lann’s first time seeing someone who so thoroughly embodied the stereotypical image of a ’Wizard’.

A wise old man, a long beard, a pointed hat...

In his hand, just like Radagast, he held a sturdy Magic Staff, but he also had a Hand-and-a-Half Sword hanging from his waist.

The Half-Elf beside him was trying to maintain composure, standing by his leg, nervously watching Lann and swallowing hard.

Gandalf also couldn’t figure out what kind of person he was facing, whether friend or foe.

But, adhering to the wisdom of "not initiating conflict first", his lips slightly pulled up under his long beard, revealing a polite smile, and he opened his mouth as if to say something.

However, before he could speak, a Dwarf standing in front of him looked up and addressed Lann.

"If you want to get to know others, it’s best to introduce yourself first, sir. I thought it was a self-evident principle."

The speaking Dwarf was not small, standing almost at one meter fifty, somewhat like a shorter human.

He was strong and his demeanor matched his appearance, powerful yet also serious and imposing.

If one can possess these qualities simultaneously, then generally, no one would think of him as a simple character.

Lann silently nodded on horseback, turned over, jumped down, and approached amidst the wary and uncertain eyes of the gathered Dwarves.

"Lann, at your service."

According to etiquette, now it’s time for the other side to respond.

Behind the Demon Hunter, Rong Buqiu imitated him and also bowed.

"Sorlin Oak Shield," the leading Dwarf cautiously watched Lann and bowed his head in response. "And my companions, at your service."

Only then did the atmosphere finally ease.

Gandalf was the first to relax his grip on the hilt of the Longsword at his waist.

The Half-Elf standing by his leg subtly exhaled a long breath, seeming not to be very brave.

Wearing a gray robe, the Wizard stepped forward, standing between the still vigilant Sorlin and Lann, apparently serving as the negotiator for the team.

"I am Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. May I ask who you are...?"

His aged face wore a practiced smile, seemingly having seen much and accumulated many life experiences, allowing him to naturally wear a smile that felt like ’everything can be resolved’.

But Lann waved his hand.

"Please wait, your main contact is about to arrive."

"What?"

Gandalf was puzzled, while at the spot where Lann had emerged from earlier, the rustling disturbance among the shrubs and branches occurred again.

The Dwarves thought it was Lann’s reinforcements and hurriedly assumed battle stances again.

Until a leading group of seven or eight large rabbits burst out from the woods, Gandalf finally understood and gestured for the Dwarves to relax.

"Radagast the Brown!"

Gandalf spread his arms, his gray robe swaying open like a sheet with his movement.

He walked over to the ragged Wizard who had just stopped the rabbit sled, asking puzzledly: "What brings you here?"

"Big, big news!" Radagast exclaimed breathlessly; driving the rabbit sled such a long way was no easy feat. "Something major has happened!"

Gandalf’s expression slowly changed, from slightly pleased upon meeting an Old Friend, to a look of ’even though he expected bad news, he didn’t anticipate things would be so bad, so quickly’.

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

Radagast was taken by Gandalf to a more distant part of the grove for a private discussion.

Wizards always have many secrets, and the Dwarves were not surprised and did not wish to intervene.

However, Lann was curious about this little group.

"You’re following Gandalf the Grey; what’s your goal? You look quite dusty, having traveled a fair distance."

Lann crossed his arms and spoke to Sorlin with interest.

These Dwarves, visibly weary, showed signs of losing considerable weight in a short period.

Long journeys are exhausting; not only do horses lose weight during such travels, but people do too.

"That’s none of your business."

Sorlin Oak Shield had an unyielding expression.

However, the Dwarf beside him, resembling a smaller version of Santa Claus with gray hair and a gray beard, intervened amicably.

With subtle gestures, he patted Sorlin’s arm, moving him aside to prevent further harsh words.

"Oh, I am Balin. Greetings, Master Lann."

Balin spoke with a face full of kindness.

The term ’Master’ seemed to be a polite form of address in this world, with a weaker connotation of hierarchy.

At least Lann heard other Dwarves referring to their team’s Half-Elf as ’Master Baggins’.

"We are Dwarves planning to visit relatives near the Lonely Mountain at the Iron Hills, but the wilderness is full of dangers, so several families teamed up to form this capable group to travel together."

"Is it purely to visit relatives?"

"Of course, it’s to visit relatives!"

Lann displayed a subtle expression of having seen through their pretense without exposing it.

"So, are you among the ’capable ones’ as well, old man?"

"Me?" Balin’s large bulbous nose twitched as he laughed generously. "I’m not considered ’capable’, but at my age, dying wouldn’t be a pity, right? So I just tagged along!"