LOTR: The Mincraft Player

"Kill them all!"

Azog roared in fury.

The tide of battle had shifted decisively.

Pop!

Several flash bombs were thrown, forcing the front-line orcs to shut their eyes and halt their advance.

A few seconds later, once their vision cleared, a wall had suddenly appeared before them, blocking the already narrow mountain path.

"Again with this sorcery!"

Azog was no stranger to this tactic by now. The sudden appearance of stone blocks was Garrett's signature move. However, since he already knew his enemy's methods, how could he not have prepared countermeasures?

"Bring up the ladders!"

Pre-made ladders were quickly brought forward and placed against the low wall. The orcs swarmed toward them, grasping the rungs and beginning to climb.

But suddenly, a figure appeared atop the wall.

His armor was heavy and pitch-black, and his longsword gleamed coldly.

He leaped down.

Leaping Blow!

Crash.

An entire group of orcs seemed to be struck at once. Their bodies instantly weakened as if they were falling apart, unable to muster any resistance.

In just a few swings, he had cleared a wide space around himself.

Azog froze and took several steps backward.

If this had been earlier in the campaign, upon seeing this human, he would have charged forward for single combat to slay him and rally his troops. But now, he chose to let his army fight alongside him.

"Hold him here. You take your war-band and eliminate the dwarves in the rear."

Azog gave the order to Bolg, who immediately led a squad of orcs to outflank their position, no longer mentioning his previous eagerness to duel Garrett one-on-one.

While Azog was issuing commands, Garrett pulled out several potion bottles and quickly downed them.

Strength II, Speed II, Regeneration II.

At that moment, the orcs facing him directly felt their hearts clench with dread. A sudden, overwhelming pressure washed over them.

He swept his sword in a wide arc, and everything within its reach, along with the surrounding area, was instantly sent flying, bodies igniting as they struck the ground.

Each enemy fell in a single blow, not one survivor remained.

It was an overwhelming display of power that even dense formations couldn't withstand. He moved like an unstoppable force of nature.

In his hands, the longsword seemed more like a great maul. Even when striking shields, it didn't deflect; it simply crushed forward, knocking both shield and wielder aside.

Azog kept retreating, constantly sending more soldiers forward to their doom.

It was too bizarre, not only had the Man's strength suddenly increased dramatically, but his speed had as well. It was far beyond what any mortal should be capable of.

"Wizard's potions..."

He can brew them himself?!

Tens of thousands of troops continued surging forward to encircle him.

But all of it was in vain.

From his perspective, the Man alternated between devastating sword combinations and sudden leaping strikes. Each time he attacked, large numbers of orcs fell. There was no way to halt his advance.

Even when an orc finally reached him and managed to land a blow, it either caused negligible damage or was evaded so swiftly it seemed like teleportation.

Thud thud...

The heavy footsteps of cave trolls echoed from behind. Azog immediately ordered them to the front lines to join the assault.

BOOM!

A thunderous explosion erupted overhead. Screams echoed from above as orcs were blasted apart, their limbs scattered. Even the trolls had to raise their massive arms to shield themselves, stumbling backward several steps.

As for Garrett, he simply raised a large wooden shield and blocked the blast with ease.

Was that... an oak shield blocking such destruction?

"Send the trolls forward! Surround him completely!"

Azog couldn't figure it out. He could only keep issuing desperate orders.

The trolls immediately raised their enormous clubs, pushing aside lesser orcs to strike down at their target.

Pop!

Another flash bomb exploded in place. The trolls were instantly blinded, covering their eyes and swinging their weapons wildly in confusion.

At the same time, a smooth, round pearl flew out from within the encirclement. Azog's gaze was instantly drawn to it.

"What is that?"

While he pondered, the pearl landed at his feet.

A wisp of purple particles drifted through the air, and in the next moment, a nightmare-like figure materialized directly before him, sword already swinging without hesitation.

Clang!

He hastily raised the modified weapon grafted to his left arm to block, but the sheer force still sent him staggering backward.

Plop.

Hiss...

Several sticks of explosives were dropped and ignited. Garrett raised his shield, Azog had already witnessed the destructive power of these things before, and immediately rolled aside. Even so, the shockwave sent him flying several meters away.

"Stop him!"

He gripped his war-mace and led a group of trolls to surround Garrett.

Say what one would about him, but this Pale Orc truly lived up to his reputation as one of the most formidable orc chieftains in recent memory. Even in this dire situation, he still charged forward.

Though he had brought a squad of trolls with him, it was still an act of remarkable courage.

"Impressive."

BOOM!

A troll's massive club, wider than a man's torso, came crashing down, only to be directly parried by Garrett's sword. Even so, the force made him slide backward several paces.

Azog began retreating again.

Garrett immediately tossed another ender pearl and teleported beside him, striking down with another blazing slash.

Azog quickly raised his arm-shield and barely blocked it, sliding back several meters before managing to halt his momentum.

"Haha!"

He let out a grim laugh.

CRASH!

A watchtower above suddenly collapsed, revealing a troll that had been lifting a massive stone slab from behind the structure.

The massive debris came crashing down out of nowhere and smashed directly onto Garrett, sending dust flying everywhere.

It seemed this orc commander had learned to use the terrain for a kill.

He had no choice, he was forced to.

Thud.

The rubble was pushed aside by Garrett.

He emerged completely unscathed.

That level of impact? It paled in comparison to the boulders hurled by catapult-trolls.

"RAAAHHH!!"

Azog roared through clenched fangs and charged forward, swinging his war-mace in a desperate flurry against Garrett, but found himself driven back step by step under the onslaught.

WHAM!

Finally, he spotted an opening and slammed the heavy mace into Garrett's breastplate with all his might, sparks flying from the impact. But the warrior before him didn't even take a single step backward.

He looked up and met Garrett's half-amused gaze.

"Why won't you just die?!"

"This is your fate, Azog. Not mine."

Slash.

Blood sprayed through the air. The pale orc's body fell heavily to the stone, engulfed in flames.

Azog rolled and thrashed, but ultimately couldn't escape his destiny of becoming a charred corpse.

Even in death, his eyes remained filled with bitter defiance.

This was no fault of his prowess in battle.

Azog the Defiler, slain.

As the orcs witnessed the death of their supreme commander, their ranks instantly collapsed into utter chaos. Wherever Garrett's gaze fell, the creatures scattered like leaves before a storm. Not a single one held their ground.

The trolls scratched their heads in confusion, finally seeming to grasp what had just happened. Their eyes widened in terror, and they shrieked as they fled after the retreating orcs.

Reputation sharply decreased. A new system notification appeared:

[Misty Mountains Orcs Reputation: -5873 (Arch-Enemy)]

[Title Unlocked: Bane of the Orcs]

Since the dawn of the Third Age, there had been only one being in Middle-earth whom the Free Peoples had ever called the Great Enemy, Sauron the Dark Lord.

And to be named the Bane of an entire race, such entities were exceedingly rare. Of the known legends, only one creature bore such a title: The Balrog of Morgoth that dwelt beneath Khazad-dûm. Having destroyed dwarven realms and slain dwarven kings time and again, it was called Durin's Bane.

And in the Elder Days, many of the Firstborn had fallen to Balrogs, so the Eldar also named them the Bane of their people.

There was one other artifact with such a designation, the One Ring, known as Isildur's Bane.

A Bane was a harbinger of death, destruction, and ruin, an entity that brought fear to the hearts of its enemies.

Whether Great Enemy or Bane, these titles had always been used by the Free Peoples to describe the most terrible forces of darkness.

But now, a figure had emerged, a Great Enemy and Bane not of the Free Peoples, but of Evil itself.

He had earned these names through real bloodshed and undeniable victories, sending tremors of dread through all who opposed the light.