LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

Whoosh!

Flames exploded outward, roaring through the corridor like a living tidal wave. The inferno swallowed Eric in a curtain of fire so blindingly bright that the very stone around him glowed, radiating waves of heat that made the air shimmer.

[Fire Resistance: 7:59]

His hand moved fast, drawing his sword from its sheath with a hiss of steel as lingering tongues of flame licked at his armor. He swept the blade through the fire, carving a path as it sizzled against the heat.

He gasped. The searing wind ripped the air from his lungs.

Good thing he'd chugged that fire resistance potion like his life depended on it, because it absolutely did.

If he'd been even a heartbeat slower, he would've been reduced to a crispy memory. Barbecued in midair, tossed like a rotisserie chicken into the sky.

A deep voice echoed from the dark ahead, slow and terrible, rolling out like thunder trapped in the bones of a mountain.

"Oh? A human... who doesn't fear flame?"

The tunnel groaned under pressure as a storm of wind surged forward. Eric planted his boots and steadied himself just as the beast emerged.

The dragon.

A monstrous shadow forced its way through the narrow passage, scales scraping stone, wings folded close but still vast. Its massive head pushed into the corridor with terrible intent. Smoke curled from its nostrils.

And then it saw him.

A single eye, enormous and gold, stared him down. That eye alone was bigger than his helmet. It gleamed with dark amusement.

"You must be the little pest the Dark Lord mentioned," the dragon rumbled. "Do you really think that being a touch flame-resistant makes you a threat to me?"

A low, gravelly chuckle followed, vibrating in Eric's bones.

Eric's eyes flicked across the massive creature, estimating its length to be well over a hundred meters. This wasn't just any dragon.

This was the last fire-drake of the Third Age.

"Smaug, I presume?"

The dragon's chest puffed slightly in satisfaction. "Indeed. I am the great Smaug. And you... you are either very foolish or very brave to crawl into my lair like this. So tell me, little morsel. Was it gold you came for? Power? Or did someone offer you up as a sacrifice to keep me entertained?"

Smaug's tail shifted behind him with a sound like grinding boulders. The beast was in no rush. He was curious.

Eric kept his voice casual, even as his fingers worked behind his back, silently crafting a pressure plate from the materials stored in his inventory.

"Honestly? I thought you were dead. Or maybe just snoring through a few centuries. The world's been pretty quiet on the dragon front lately."

Smaug narrowed his other eye. "I was sleeping, yes. Quite comfortably. Until someone awoke me… with a tempting offer. Care to guess?"

"Not particularly."

That, of course, made Smaug even more eager to tell him.

"He offered me dominion over the northern realms," Smaug said, pride dripping from his voice. "He promised that darkness would rise again. That I would be king, the true King Under the Mountain."

"Funny," Eric said with a small grin. "I thought that title belonged to a dwarf."

That did it.

Smaug reared his head with a deep snarl, wings twitching. The stone walls trembled.

"Look at me, insect! Who else commands such fire? Who else rules from beneath the earth with a glance? Say it!"

Eric looked up. Not at the snarling maw but at the dragon's chest. His eyes locked onto something small, something gleaming.

A diamond, wedged into a hollow just above the heart.

A missing scale.

"You're… tall," Eric offered blandly. "Very majestic."

Smaug actually looked pleased. "Hah! At last, some recognition. Say a few more kind things and I might consider not turning you to ash."

"Do not imagine you can fight me. I have slain armies. Heroes. Kings. That was when I was young. My scales were still soft then. Now? I am untouchable. My hide is harder than dwarven steel. My fangs can shear stone. My claws rake granite. My tail crushes towers, and my wings blot out the sky. My breath is death itself."

Eric nodded along like a wizard humoring an overly talkative Hippogriff trainer.

Then, the dragon tilted its head.

"And you, human? What is your name?"

Eric didn't miss a beat.

"You can call me Steve."

He wasn't about to give his real name to a dragon. Not here. Not in Middle-earth. A name wasn't just a name in a place like this. Dragons had magic, old magic. Enchantment clung to their words like ivy to stone. Names could bind you.

Especially when offered freely to a creature like Smaug.

"Steve?" the dragon repeated, unimpressed. "Never heard of you."

"Oh, I've got dozens more. You wouldn't remember them all, even if I started listing."

Smaug stared at him hard. There was magic in that gaze too. But it wasn't working.

The human wasn't trembling. He wasn't even sweating.

He was… eating?

Smaug blinked in disbelief.

Eric casually tore off a chunk of bread and munched, sipping from a glowing vial between bites. Right there. In the path of a dragon.

That was it.

The final straw.

Insulting. Unforgivable.

Smaug's chest flared. The inferno gathered behind his teeth.

Just as the dragon's jaws parted to end the pest once and for all, Eric shouted and moved. A blur of motion and steel.

His sword crashed down on the dragon's snout.

CLANG!

The sound was like thunder trapped in a bottle. Smaug's head recoiled, the great beast stumbling back as the impact rattled through his skull and into the stone.

He smashed into the wall behind with a crash that shook the mountain.

Eric lowered his sword, its edge glowing red.

[-2]

[998/1000 HP]

"Thick hide," Eric muttered, shaking out his wrist. "Even thicker skull."

Good news: Smaug had a health bar.

Bad news: It might as well have been decorative.

Smaug's voice exploded from the dust and fire. "YOU... LITTLE... WORM!"

His chest lit up again, blazing like a furnace. The roar that followed cracked the ceiling.

Fire poured through the corridor, hotter than anything before. The flames consumed the space, warping air, melting stone. There was nowhere to run.

When the flames finally died down, silence followed.

A shape stepped through the smoke.

Eric.

His armor hissed with steam, but the metal felt cool to the touch.

Smaug stared.

"Impossible…"

That blast wasn't just physical heat. It carried ancient magic, a smoldering curse meant to reduce even enchanted bones to ash.

And it didn't leave a scratch.

Eric grinned.

"You think that was impressive?"

He stepped back. One heel landed directly on the pressure plate he'd placed earlier.

Click.

From deep beneath the floor came the sound of fuses igniting.

"What's that sound?" Smaug muttered, eyes narrowing.

He twisted, searching.

Eric was gone.

A narrow tunnel had opened behind where he stood. A fresh one, barely wide enough for a man. The last thing Smaug saw was a flick of a boot vanishing around a bend.

"You hole-digging rat…"

The dragon snarled, his fury climbing to a boiling point. He had been touched. Staggered. A human had landed a blow.

The shame of it smoldered hotter than fire.

"Get back here!"

His bellow shook loose an avalanche of dust. He reared back, flames rising in his throat once more.

Then the TNT went off.

BOOM!