LOTR: Bringing an MC System to Middle-Earth

The great eagles were mighty in battle, and Beorn was no less formidable.

But even combined, they numbered only seven or eight at most. The orc reinforcements, however, kept pouring in. The army from Gundabad was still arriving in waves, showing no signs of stopping.

The orcs had hunted skin-changers before. They knew the weaknesses of the great bears and had ways to exploit them.

As long as they were willing to pay the price, it was still possible to bring one down.

That cost might be steep, yes—but compared to a certain newly-emerged enemy, even skin-changers were manageable.

The eagles, majestic as they were, might not have any clear countermeasures, but no matter how strong they were, they couldn't take on ten thousand alone.

In truth, if Eric hadn't preemptively eliminated the orcs' siege beasts with his... rather unorthodox methods, those eagles might not have had such an easy time tearing through the warg packs.

After all, mortal strength has its limits.

But Eric didn't seem to have one.

"Go! Push forward!"

At the base of Ravenhill, Eric led the charge, shield raised high as he cleared out the orc ambushes hiding among the ruins. The dwarves surged after him.

The path behind was already blocked.

While the orcs were still reeling from the sudden aerial assault, Eric had sealed off their central command route, bottling the main orc army outside the perimeter wall.

Now, the orcs outside couldn't get in, and the ones inside couldn't escape. The battlefield was split into isolated pockets, cut off from each other.

Not that the orcs inside seemed too eager to leave.

From behind the shattered stone and debris, a swarm of orcs burst forth, blades and crossbows raised, howling as they rushed the intruders.

These were the ones dragged up from the Moria Deep Pits, nastier and far more aggressive than their Misty Mountain kin. They had a certain subterranean madness about them.

But that didn't matter.

Eric raised his shield, deflecting every projectile with ringing clashes of steel. Then, with a fluid motion, he drew his sword and leapt into the horde.

His swing carved a path clean through the first wave.

And then he kept going.

From the southern edge of the ruins all the way to the northern wall—and when he realized he'd gone too far, he turned right around and cleaved his way back again.

A full sweep, both ways.

By the end, the pit-born orcs were staggering backward, wide-eyed and shivering.

What kind of monster is this man?

As the last of the orcs fled, a glowing skill orb dropped at Eric's feet.

A new one: Armor Break.

Without hesitation, Eric absorbed it.

[New Skill: Armor Break (Lv.1)]

As the name implied, after a brief charge-up, Eric's next strike would bypass enemy armor entirely and deal direct damage.

Only drawback? No attacking during the charge-up.

Roughly one second of prep time.

"This way up!"

Just as Eric was winding up for another round of mayhem, Thorin hurriedly pointed toward a stairway.

Apparently, even Thorin had started to look like the cautious one when standing next to Eric.

"Alright, we're moving!"

Most of the bottom-floor orcs had already been cleared out. The few that remained were easily handled by the dwarven flanking squads, specially trained for battlefield cleanup and containment.

Eric charged up the stairs without slowing, cutting down orcs and wargs as they came. A few tried to collapse the stairway behind them, but rocks mysteriously reshaped themselves before impact, reconnecting the path within seconds.

Others tried piling up debris to block their advance, but again, their efforts barely lasted a heartbeat before being smashed aside.

It was like watching players in Adventure Mode trying to hold off someone in Survival Mode with Creative privileges. Laughably futile.

Thwip!

Arrows suddenly whistled past from the side.

Eric turned his head sharply and spotted a group of small, wiry figures emerging from behind a crumbled wall.

Goblins.

Even the goblins from Dol Guldur had been dragged into this mess.

"Hah! You're surrounded!" one of them shrieked gleefully.

As everyone turned toward the ambush, another group of goblins leapt down from above, blades raised, shrieking as they attempted an airborne strike.

Too bad they hadn't checked who they were ambushing.

Eric raised his gaze, drew his sword—and the nearest goblin realized far too late that they had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

"Wait... No, it's him—!"

That was all it got out before Eric's blade cleaved it midair, sending a flaming corpse spiraling off into the rubble.

The others froze.

They recognized that black armor. That face. That walking apocalypse.

They weren't the ones doing the surrounding. They were the ones being culled.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

Panic surged through the goblins as they scattered.

But they'd already wasted their only chance.

Moments later, the entire stretch of roadway was littered with goblin corpses. Most were scorched, a few crushed or stabbed—but none had made it out.

Another skill orb materialized from the carnage.

Leaping Strike.

Eric took it, no hesitation.

[New Skill: Leaping Strike]

While locked onto an enemy, a jumping strike would now cause area-of-effect damage and apply a temporary Weakened debuff to all affected targets.

"Keep moving!"

Eric didn't waste time gloating. He led the group upward once more.

Yet something was wrong.

The further they climbed, the quieter it got.

"Where are all the orcs?" Kíli muttered, glancing around.

"Don't tell me they actually ran away."

Fíli, ever ready with a cheerful guess.

Thorin frowned. "No. It's not that simple. Stay alert. Watch every shadow."

They pressed on.

"Still nothing," Bofur said, casting a wary look up the stairs.

By the time they reached the topmost level of Ravenhill, they hadn't encountered a single enemy.

"Something feels... wrong."

Dwalin, who'd been unusually quiet, now gripped his axe tighter.

"I swear, it's like we're being watched. But there's no one here."

Eric didn't seem worried.

"We'll find out soon enough."

"There. That's the command post."

Thorin pointed ahead.

Step by step, they approached what should have been the enemy stronghold—but it was utterly silent.

The screeching bats that had once clouded the sky? Gone.

The orc archers that had once guarded the cliffs? Vanished.

Only the warbanner stood, fluttering alone in the wind.

"Don't let your guard down," Thorin warned. "That Pale Orc is cunning. He's up to something."

"Then let him come," growled Dwalin, as the rest of the dwarves closed ranks around Thorin, ready for anything.

"Eric, what do you think?"

Silence.

"Eric?"

Click.

A mechanism snapped. The dwarves turned.

Vwoooom.

A horn blared on its own, followed by shifting banners that signaled a command.

Far below, a regiment of orcs began advancing—only to walk straight into an ambush of archers and dwarven firework-ballistae. The entire front line exploded in chaos.

"Uh… what?"

Eric blinked. Then grinned like a child discovering a new toy.

"Eric, what in Durin's name are you doing?" Thorin asked sharply.

"Shh. I'm running tests."

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Each time Eric tapped something, another mechanism triggered. Horns blew, flags changed, orc formations shifted.

Some orcs ran left. Some charged forward into certain doom. Some turned, only to crash into their own troops.

Wargs spilled from side tunnels, snarling in confusion.

Trolls emerged from caves, then wandered into solid rock walls and scratched their heads in bafflement.

The battlefield dissolved into total anarchy.

"Fascinating," Eric muttered, eyes gleaming.

"Fun, too."