In that moment, Garrett suddenly understood something crucial.

That orc captain was ultimately just a captain. He could command the orcs, lead the horde, but that was his limit. He could not truly represent them.

Garrett watched with his own eyes as some orcs passed by their captain’s corpse, drooling. One reached into the remains of the armor, dug out a few scraps of flesh, swallowed them, and then turned his savage gaze toward the only remaining enemy.

There wasn’t the slightest trace of discipline in that gaze.

Compared to the orcs of the Misty Mountains, this infernal legion was even more chaotic and brutal.

The powerful leader who once ruled them, Azog the Defiler, the former chieftain of the Moria orcs, was dead.

And after both Azog and Bolg had fallen to Garrett’s blade, Moria never again produced a leader strong enough to unite all the orcs under one banner.

The so-called “captain” who had just been slain was likely only a temporary commander sent by the Dark Lord to maintain some semblance of order. Until a new, truly powerful leader emerged, the orcs would remain loyal to only one force, Sauron.

A dark, vast, and oppressive will controlled all the orcs, forcing them into submission.

This will pressed down on them like a crushing weight. As long as its source of power remained, they could regroup again and again, unaffected by any external threat.

Simply killing a temporary commander wasn’t enough to shake their spirit.

Azog’s worth had just risen again.

In that case, then fight!

Just as he had said from the start, he would keep killing until they recognized him.

“Let me see… is the fear the Dark Lord instilled in you stronger, or the carnage you’re experiencing now?”

Crash.

A large group of orcs transformed into a rain of fire, flew into the air, then slammed into the ground, violently sweeping the dust from the great hall.

Thud!

Chunks of scorched flesh fell from above, striking unlucky orcs, only to be instantly torn apart and devoured by others who rushed in, turned into nourishment.

Thud!

The cave trolls swung their massive weapons, pounding down one blow after another. Some strikes were deflected by hastily raised shields, others bounced off golden light, while some hit the ground with a heavy thump.

Thud!

The orc war drums continued to beat.

Thud!

Monstrous creatures crawled from the deeper pits, their enormous bodies radiating menace. With the trolls joining the assault, even Garrett had to temporarily retreat.

Boom!

TNT exploded, blasting craters into the floor, orc limbs flying in all directions.

Before long, lava suddenly poured down from a damaged stone pillar, scalding orcs and trolls alike, making them howl in agony. Even the larger beasts had to change course.

The chaos inside the hall raged on for what felt like hours, the noise echoing off the domed ceiling and the floor, traveling far into the distance, all the way to the deepest depths underground.

A pair of crimson, burning eyes slowly opened.

After nearly a thousand years of slumber, an ancient evil from the depths of Moria’s darkest abyss had awakened.

Thud!

A wave of intense heat washed over Garrett’s chest. He withdrew the lava, an uneasy feeling creeping over him.

It had been a long time, so long since he’d felt this sensation. This strange, yet intoxicating mixture.

Fear… and excitement.

Even Smaug hadn’t stirred this reaction in him.

Wonderful.

At this moment, he had completely lost interest in dealing with the remaining orcs.

As the heat swept through the hall, the orcs seemed to sense something as well, their attacks lessened noticeably.

Like Garrett, they couldn’t stop looking around, scanning the shadows, searching for something. The clashing of weapons gradually faded, and then stopped altogether.

The first to flee were the trolls and the massive beasts. They had detected the presence of a superior predator, something not just stronger in raw power like Garrett, but superior in every aspect: in form, in presence, in power, even in spiritual essence.

The trolls and beasts fleeing confirmed one thing for the orcs: they should run as well.

With a loud rushing sound, the orcs scattered in panic, retreating in the opposite direction from Garrett. He paid no attention to the terrified wretches. With his back to the retreating army, he began walking step by step toward the source of the heat.

A deep pit.

A vast, seemingly bottomless chasm.

He leaned forward and peered down. A blast of superheated air surged upward, striking him in the face. Anyone unfamiliar with this place would probably assume there was a massive underground magma chamber below. But this presence… was far more dangerous than lava.

Gulp.

He drank a bottle of fire resistance potion.

Almost at the same moment, a pair of crimson, glowing eyes appeared deep within the pit. Something enormous, like a volcanic eruption, suddenly surged upward.

Caught off guard, he barely managed to leap aside, landing on a long stone staircase.

BOOM!

Just as his feet touched down, sudden weightlessness hit him. His vision tilted wildly, his body falling backward uncontrollably. Looking up, he saw chunks of stone flying upward. Looking down again, he realized the massive pillar supporting the staircase had been shattered like brittle clay, crumbling piece by piece.

Falling alongside those stones… was Garrett himself.

A colossal shadow emerged from below. Charred black flesh wreathed in searing flames from the abyss, and spreading with the fire were two wings so vast they could span the entire chasm.

It was the bane of Durin’s folk, a Balrog of Morgoth.

“ROAR!!”

The roar was deafening. The Balrog opened its massive maw, inhaling and exhaling air like a great furnace. Its flaming body glowed like molten iron, burning ever more fiercely, the fire raging ever wilder.

It reached out its hand, flames gathering in its palm. In the blink of an eye, a massive flaming sword formed in its grasp. With a mighty roar, it raised the weapon and slashed down toward the falling Garrett.

Midair, Garrett quickly bit into a golden apple, drew his sword and raised his shield, and braced for impact.

BOOM!

A burst of golden light exploded. His shield shattered completely. A runic belt triggered its emergency mechanism, unleashing a powerful shockwave that blew Garrett and the Balrog apart.

In that brief moment of separation, his vision spun, one moment he saw the rock wall, the next the Balrog’s deep crimson form and the warped air around it, and then nearby chunks of falling stone.

Whoosh.

From the depths of the pit, a figure flew upward, briefly suspended mid-air along with the falling debris.

Only then did Garrett regain his bearings, snapping out of his daze.

Right.

So he’d been blown away.

That single strike had completely destroyed his runic shield, and drained his physical shield’s durability to nothing.

Absolutely terrifying.

He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth, the heat scorching his lungs.

The Balrog… truly worthy of being a corrupted Maia, on the same tier of power as Sauron himself.

That one blow, if the Dark Lord himself had taken it directly, he might well have been cleaved in two.

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150 = +1 bonus chapter

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