The seemingly never-ending rumble of gold coins collapsing from the golden mountain completely came to a halt at this moment.
The entire magnificent Treasure Hall was silent.
Until—'Ding!' a sound.
The long echo of precious metals colliding lingered within this gigantic building.
Sorlin stood up from the golden mountain.
He tore off the crown he had worn since driving out Smaug, carelessly tossing it aside.
The crown of gold and iron slipped away like an inconspicuous item in this sea of gold and silver, rolling to who knows where.
The cold air inside Lonely Mountain filled Sorlin's chest, calming his mind that had seemed about to split apart moments ago.
The dragon stench in the air, originally causing physiological discomfort with its strong adhesion and penetration, now smelled no different from moldy dust.
