LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

Eric stood quietly as the elder wrapped up his explanation. It had been brief, but impressively efficient - clearly, this man was cut out for leadership.

Unlike the corrupt mayor of Lake-town, who had climbed into office by stoking fear and resentment, this village elder had earned the people's respect the proper way. He'd been chosen because the community believed in him, not because he shouted the loudest.

Eric hadn't officially appointed anyone to keep watch, but the old man had naturally taken it upon himself to maintain order. Not that any oversight was truly necessary. Even without a watchful eye, the villagers wouldn't dare pull any tricks.

Their lord's reputation preceded him - so much so that even when they were camping outside the safety of the walls, no orc or bandit would dare come near.

Eric's fame had become the stuff of legend. And now, with rumors spreading that he could somehow see how much each person had contributed to the land, the villagers had become even more disciplined. No one wanted to test the accuracy of such a terrifyingly specific magical ability.

What Eric didn't yet realize was just how enthusiastic the people were becoming in response to the tangible changes they could now witness. Their passion for building a better life was about to surpass even his own expectations.

As the villagers lined up to receive tools and began setting up the first waves of production, Eric walked toward a large empty plot within the city. With a bit of care, he poured lava around the perimeter, forming a square of bubbling heat. Right in the center, he placed the dragon egg.

The moment it sensed the surrounding heat, the egg began to stir faintly - entering what seemed to be a dormant incubation state.

To be honest, Eric had no idea which mod this egg had come from. It had appeared in his inventory seemingly at random, and when it did, two crafting trees had unlocked: Ice and Fire, and Dragon Rider.

His best guess was that this egg belonged to a hybrid species - one that could function with both systems. That would make things interesting.

Every now and then, the egg pulsed with a flicker of light, showing signs of life, but it didn't look like it was in any hurry to hatch.

Shrugging, Eric left the egg alone and fetched some reinforced fireproof building blocks from the warehouse. He sealed the area tight, just in case the egg hatched while he was away. The last thing he needed was a baby dragon throwing a tantrum across the town square.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The next thing on his to-do list took him straight to the forge. There, he had the blacksmith enchant his Elven longsword with a Knockback enchantment.

He paused, then renamed it too.

The name had been on his mind ever since he fought his way through Ravenhill and earned the title Orc-Bane.

Nemesis.

Simple. Final. Poetic.

It meant that anyone who dared to oppose him - or stand against the blade, would soon discover what it felt like to face their natural predator.

Eric unsheathed the blade and admired the freshly etched inscription along the hilt. The sword had already slain thousands of orcs and wargs, including a pair of orcish war-chiefs. From now on, this wasn't just a weapon - it was a legend.

In fact, it might be possible to toss it into an orc warband and watch the whole army scatter in terror.

For the orcs, this sword was akin to how free folk viewed Sauron's blood-slicked mace - just the sight of it could freeze their blood.

After finishing the enchantment and christening the sword, Eric turned his attention to something glittering in his inventory.

Dragon scales.

Armor crafted from them offered six more points of protection than netherite. But there was a catch: no knockback resistance.

That could be a serious issue.

Against raw brute force - think Azog's hammer or the crushing palms of a troll or hill-giant, that knockback resistance had saved his life more than once. Without it, he'd have been flattened or launched into the nearest mountain wall.

After some careful thought, Eric decided to stick with his trusty netherite armor for now. It was more than enough for the current level of threat.

When the dragon hatched, though… then he could forge Dragonsteel. That stuff had a base armor value of thirty-four. With a full set, even Sauron in his prime might struggle to land a scratch.

Chuckling, Eric left the forge and made his way toward the Nether Portal. Then something occurred to him, and he opened the map.

Distance from Roadside Keep to Riverdale?

Roughly eleven hundred kilometers in a straight line.

Which, even using the Nether for travel, meant a trek of 140 kilometers.

If he wanted true efficiency, he'd need to build a Nether highway between the two. But even a single-lane path would require over 140,000 blocks of blue ice.

And that was no small matter.

Nine regular ice blocks formed one packed ice block. Nine packed ice blocks formed a single block of blue ice.

Which meant... eighty-one regular ice blocks per blue ice block. So, to build the full length of this highway, he'd need over 11.3 million blocks of regular ice. That would fill more than three thousand large chests.

Eric recalled his last winter's blue ice stockpile. Not even close to enough. Barely a tenth of what he'd need.

He'd gotten sidetracked that winter too - working on other things instead of farming ice all day.

Sigh.

He left the warehouse, rubbing his temples. This one was going to take time.

Fortunately, the weather was already turning. The air was crisp and freezing, likely just a snowstorm away from proper winter.

Soon, he could begin harvesting ice again.

And truthfully, the highway didn't have to be made of blue ice. Packed ice would do - just not quite as fast.

A boat on blue ice could hit seventy-two meters per second. On packed ice, forty. Still faster than any horse.

It wasn't ideal, but it was nine times easier to gather. If he really committed himself for a whole winter, it just might be doable.

Lost in thought, Eric wandered back toward the castle, until he spotted someone standing by the front gate.

The old village Elder.

Eric raised a brow. "Something the matter?"

The old man looked sheepish. "Apologies for disturbing you, my lord. It's just… the villagers had some questions. They asked me to speak on their behalf."

"No problem," Eric replied with a smile. "Ask away. I'm not a troll, you know."

The elder relaxed a little and began relaying the residents' concerns.

Most of them made Eric chuckle.

"Some folks were wondering… would it be alright if they took a few of those magic crop seeds home to plant in their garden plots?"

He hesitated, then added quickly, "I hope that's not too presumptuous. You see, most of us used to be farmers. After so much hunger and hardship, we simply want to grow things again - even if it's just outside our own doorsteps. We mean no disrespect…"

"It's fine," Eric said, waving a hand. "Go ahead and plant as much as you want. Those seeds mature in three days, and pumpkins grow in a day or less. You can plant an entire field if it makes you happy. Just one thing - no wasting food."

"Three… three days?" the elder repeated, jaw dropping.

Eric hadn't told him that part before. Now the man looked as if he'd been hit by a thunderbolt.

He'd assumed the crops were simply frost-resistant and hardy. Not magical super-produce that grew at ludicrous speed.

"I… I understand. We won't waste a single seed. Thank you, my lord!"

The man looked overwhelmed with gratitude.

Eric smiled, then asked, "What's your name?"

"I'm Ved, my lord."

"Well then, Ved. You're clearly respected among the people, and you were once their village chief. From now on, I'd like you to serve as this settlement's representative."

"The job's simple. Gather the villagers' concerns and present them to me. You're their voice - but only that. You're not deciding policy."

Ved bowed deeply, visibly moved. "I understand. I will carry out this duty to the best of my ability."

He had heard of such arrangements before. While it wasn't exactly the same as being a chief, the idea of being a speaker or advocate made sense to him. It was something he'd done all his life.

But in the past, he'd also been expected to solve the problems himself. Now he merely had to report them. A bit of a relief, actually.

As Ved thanked him again, Eric's mind drifted to a more subtle issue.

These villagers had lived ordinary lives before. They knew how harsh the world could be. They understood that magical crops weren't normal.

But their children? Not necessarily.

If they grew up thinking this place was the default, they might someday believe all crops matured in three days. They'd be in for a rude awakening if they ever stepped outside the borders.

That meant education would be essential.

Eric made sure to stress this point to Ved. After a moment of thought, the elder nodded, suddenly aware of the potential danger. He promised to work with the others to provide proper schooling - so that the next generation could tell the difference between magic and reality.

Once they finished discussing the education issue, Ved brought up a few more of the villagers' requests. Most were trivial.

One person wanted to know if they could work all day instead of in shifts - apparently they just really liked… labor.

Eric's answer?

"That's one way to fast-track your promotion to full citizen."

Ved laughed and took the message back with him.

As for Eric, he returned to his castle, took a moment to breathe, and looked out over his domain.

The townspeople were working diligently, gathering resources and loading them into the automated collection chutes. The warehouse stocks were steadily growing, forming the backbone for future infrastructure.

One day, all these steady reserves would become the very bedrock upon which a kingdom would rise.