LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

"Kill them all!"

Azog the Defiler's roar echoed across the battlefield, deep and furious.

The tide of battle had shifted.

Crack!

Several fire charges exploded mid-air, flooding the front lines with blinding light. The orcs at the vanguard stumbled, shielding their eyes and skidding to a halt.

By the time their vision cleared, a new obstacle had appeared—a solid wall blocking the narrow mountain path.

"Again?!" Azog growled.

He was no stranger to this trick. The sudden appearance of solid blocks had become the calling card of one particular human.

But this time, he was prepared.

"Bring the ladders!"

Pre-built wooden ladders were rushed forward and slammed against the wall. Orcs scrambled up without hesitation, snarling and eager.

Then, a shadow dropped from above.

A warrior clad in thick, blackened armor leapt from the top of the wall, his sword flashing like a falling star.

Jump Slash.

CRASH!

The lead orcs collapsed as if struck by a boulder. A wave of weakness swept through them, their limbs turning to jelly. The sword hadn't just slashed, it had flattened them with brute force.

With only a few swift strikes, a wide gap had been carved into the battlefield.

Azog's breath caught. He instinctively stepped back.

Once upon a time, he would've charged forward to challenge this human in a duel, believing victory would rally his troops.

Now? He preferred letting his army take the first swing.

"I'll hold him. You take a detour and kill the dwarves behind," Azog ordered.

Bolg, his son, nodded and led a flanking force down the side path without protest. He didn't even mention his previous desire to fight Eric one-on-one. Apparently, reality had smacked the enthusiasm out of him.

Meanwhile, Eric popped the cork on three potions and chugged them down in quick succession.

Strength II. Speed II. Regeneration II.

Suddenly, the orcs facing him directly felt a crushing pressure descend upon them. Their chests tightened. Something wasn't right.

Eric lunged forward. His sword swept horizontally, and the orcs in its path were launched like burning ragdolls, their bodies igniting on impact with the ground.

Not a single survivor. All one-hit kills.

Even the densest formations could not withstand the sheer force. His blade behaved less like a sword and more like a war club, hammering through shields, cleaving through ranks like a walking siege engine.

Azog stepped back again, shouting for more troops to be thrown at him.

Something was off. The human wasn't just stronger, he was faster too. Far faster than any human should be.

"Potion magic…" Azog muttered, eyes narrowing. "He's an alchemist."

More orcs surged forward to surround him.

But from Azog's viewpoint, the human was untouchable. One moment he was spinning in a deadly dance of blades. The next, he was in the air again, cleaving downward like a falling meteor. Every swing left a trail of broken orcs.

When one finally reached him with a swing, Eric either shrugged off the damage or simply blinked out of harm's way with uncanny reflexes.

Thud. Thud…

Heavy footsteps thundered behind Azog. He turned and ordered the trolls forward. The massive creatures lumbered past the orcs, clubs raised, joining the fray.

BOOM!

An explosion lit up the battlefield, hurling orcs in all directions. Screams filled the air. Even the trolls staggered back, shielding themselves from the blast.

And Eric?

He stood firm behind a broad wooden shield, completely unharmed.

"Oak shield?" Azog barked in disbelief.

"Send the trolls to surround him! Now!"

Azog was running out of options. Desperation made him more dangerous.

The trolls obeyed, smashing their way through the orc lines to reach Eric. Their clubs, as wide as tree trunks, came crashing down.

Crack!

Eric countered. A fire charge detonated in front of the trolls, blinding them. They howled and thrashed, swinging wildly.

In the chaos, a shimmering ender pearl arced into the air.

Azog's eyes tracked it.

"What now?"

Before he could process, the pearl hit the ground near his feet—and Eric materialized from thin air, sword already in motion.

Clang!

Azog blocked the strike with the weapon grafted to his left arm, but the force still sent him staggering backward.

Tsst!

Several sticks of TNT landed and hissed to life. Eric dove behind his shield as the world erupted in another explosion. Azog rolled out of the blast zone, but the shockwave still sent him flying.

"Hold him back!"

He grabbed his warhammer and charged again, this time with the trolls at his side.

Say what you will about Azog, he wasn't a coward. Even with the odds stacked against him, he chose to fight.

And honestly? That kind of stupid bravery deserved a slow clap.

THUD!

A troll's massive club slammed down on Eric.

Eric caught it with his sword. The blow pushed him back, boots sliding in the dirt, but he held his ground.

Azog, wisely, began backing up again.

Eric pulled out another ender pearl and blinked to Azog's side.

Slash!

The pale orc barely raised his shield in time. The blow forced him back several meters, boots skidding across the ground.

"Ha…" Azog chuckled, breathless.

Then…

CRASH!

A nearby watchtower, weakened by battle, collapsed. The rubble tumbled down in a deadly avalanche, aimed squarely at Eric.

Azog's lips curled. That was his doing.

He'd finally learned to weaponize the terrain.

Thud.

The rubble stirred.

Eric pushed aside the shattered stone and stood up—completely unharmed.

Nice try, Azog. But he'd taken worse hits from catapults.

"Rrrraaaah!" Azog screamed in fury and charged again, hammer swinging.

He traded blows with Eric in a wild frenzy, sparks flying as steel met steel. Each time, he was forced back.

Then, at last, he landed a clean strike—his warhammer crashing into Eric's chestplate.

The impact sparked like a forge fire.

Eric didn't budge.

Azog froze, panting, eyes wide.

"Why won't you just die?!"

Eric grinned faintly.

"Some things are just fate, Azog."

Slice.

Blood sprayed.

Azog's pale body crumpled to the ground, flames licking at the edges of his armor.

He rolled, twitched, struggled… but there was no saving him. His last expression was one of rage and disbelief.

Not a loss by skill, but by destiny.

"I told you—I'd be the last thing you'd ever see."

Azog the Defiler. Deceased.

The moment their leader fell, the orc horde panicked. Chaos erupted. Eric's mere glance was enough to send them scattering in every direction.

Even the trolls blinked dumbly, then roared and bolted after the fleeing orcs in confusion.

A new system prompt appeared before Eric.

[Orc Reputation in the Misty Mountains: -5873 (Nemesis)]

[Title Unlocked: "Bane in Black"]

From the dawn of the Third Age, the free peoples of Middle-earth had used the term Great Enemy for only one being—Sauron.

The title bane, however, was even rarer.

The Balrog beneath Moria had earned it, after slaying dwarf kings and razing their homes. He was called Durin's Bane.

In the First Age, the same creature earned another name, Elf-Bane—for the countless elven warriors who fell to his whip and flame.

Only one item had ever received a similar title: the One Ring. Isildur's Bane.

To be a bane was to be a harbinger of death, destruction, and dread.

A living curse.

Now, another had joined that grim legacy.

One who stood against the darkness… and made evil fear him.

Eric.

Nemesis of Orcs.

A walking catastrophe for the forces of evil.