Compared to dragons, the Balrog was undoubtedly smaller in sheer size.
However, that didn't stop them from being even more formidable in battle than most dragons, with significantly greater resilience and regenerative power.
Two ages past, during the Elder Days when dragons still roamed in great numbers, many of those winged beasts served merely as mounts for Balrogs. They would carry them over towering city walls, allowing them to wreak havoc within.
Before Morgoth bred dragons that could fly, the Elves had never considered defending against attacks from the sky. They paid a terrible price for that oversight.
In the great hall, before the shattered entrance, Garrett stared in astonishment at the health bar hovering above his foe.
+1 +1.
Almost instantly, the minor damage from his surprise attack had been fully regenerated by the flickering flames on the Balrog's body.
Its healing rate was nearly on par with his own.
Another mechanics-heavy boss fight.
He sighed helplessly.
Fire resistance potions could grant him immunity to flames, but they couldn't suppress the Balrog's fire the way Narya could.
And water, unless it was on the scale of a river or lake, likely wouldn't affect the Balrog significantly. It wouldn't even dim its flames.
Unfortunately, he didn't have time to redirect the Mitheithel right now.
Ultimately, the reason water could suppress Balrogs was because all water in Arda contained traces of divine power from Ulmo, Lord of Waters. All water carried an innate purifying effect, capable of suppressing anything corrupted or evil.
That was also why orcs could only drink fouled water from birth to death, clean water caused them actual harm.
Whoosh.
Garrett's sneak attack had clearly enraged the Balrog. It grabbed a chunk of rubble and hurled it at him, but Garrett had already thrown an ender pearl and teleported to safety.
Naturally, the Balrog wasn't about to let him escape. It immediately shoved aside the broken remnants of the door it had smashed and bent down to step into the hall.
Hiss.
The large piles of TNT placed earlier on both sides ignited from the flames wreathing the Balrog's body, glowing red and spewing black smoke.
Hmm?
A strange sense of unease stirred in the Balrog's consciousness.
Boom!
Explosions rang out in rapid succession, blasting crater after crater. TNT blocks flew in all directions, detonating around the Balrog. Bursts of white light mixed with the acrid scent of gunpowder flashed continuously, widening the ruined gateway completely.
Now that entrance, no, rather, that collapsed wall or enormous breach, was perfectly sized for the Balrog to walk through unhindered.
Garrett stopped and looked back.
Thud!
Rubble was slapped aside as the Balrog emerged from the wreckage, letting out a roar, its flames burning as fiercely as before.
"Foolish insect, do you believe explosions and fire can harm me?"
Garrett could clearly see the contempt on that demonic visage.
Of course.
Explosions and fire, weren't those within the Balrog's very domain of power?
He realized he had inadvertently played to its strengths.
Let's see what you're made of...
Almost unconsciously, he pulled out his thaumometer and began analyzing the Balrog as it approached step by step.
Ignis, Perditio, Vacuos, Fames, Potentia, Tenebrae, Spiritus.
And Praeteritus, Ira, Superbia.
A new aspect emerged: Alienis.
When the massive form of shadow and flame appeared before him, raising its flaming longsword, Garrett also lifted his blade once more to meet it head-on.
Boom!
A flash of brilliant light erupted where the weapons clashed, knocking both combatants apart. However, neither retreated, instead, they raised their weapons again, trading blow after blow.
Thud!
Garrett couldn't help but stagger backward, his boots scraping a long groove across the stone floor. The knockback resistance granted by his netherite armor was reaching its limits, it could deflect flying arrows, withstand a cave troll's heavy punch, perhaps even absorb a giant's powerful blow.
But those were nothing compared to facing a Balrog.
After all, this was a fallen Maia, a being that mortals had once worshipped as divine.
Thud!
Their blades met once again. His runic shields steadily diminished, absorbing the tremendous force of the Balrog's strikes.
With the support of his Basic Sword Technique, every successful hit he landed increased the power of his next attack, up to the technique's maximum potential. But beyond that, something mysterious was helping him. Each time he clashed with the Balrog, his sword would emit a soft white radiance, shielding itself from shattering under the immense pressure.
"Elven work..." the Balrog muttered with disdain. With a flex of its other hand, a fiery whip coiled into existence.
Crack!
The air itself twisted under the lash.
Wielding the sword in its right hand and raising the whip in its left, the Balrog took advantage of Garrett having just blocked a sword strike and lashed the whip toward his weapon.
"You're trying to disarm me?"
This time, Garrett was the one showing contempt.
Sword Skill: Parry!
The whip was deflected against all logic, forced backward. But he didn't stop there, he reached out and grabbed the tip of the flaming whip, yanking it hard toward himself.
Snap!
The whip went taut instantly. For a brief moment, the Balrog found it couldn't maintain a solid grip, it even slid slightly toward the human before it.
What kind of strength is this?!
Both Garrett and the Balrog had the same thought at that instant.
Garrett hadn't grabbed the whip on impulse, it was the follow-up effect of the Parry sword skill: Disarm.
Once it was triggered, if the opponent's weapon was something that could theoretically be pulled away, he had a chance to exploit a weakness and disarm them.
But clearly, the Balrog's strength was overwhelming. Even if Garrett found a weak spot, wresting the weapon from its grasp was nearly impossible.
Something wasn't right about this exchange.
At that moment, the Balrog finally began to take the battle seriously.
"All of you, emerge, destroy him!" it issued a commanding roar.
The orcs cowering in the shadows went blank. Their faces twisted as they struggled internally.
Since the Elder Days, Balrogs had been the natural generals of dark armies, the highest echelon of battlefield command. They answered only to Morgoth himself. All other forces had to defer to them, even dragons.
Orcs, on the other hand, were merely cannon fodder spawned by the Dark Power, lowest of the hierarchy. Every other creature outranked them.
The terror buried in their very essence was awakened. Whatever dark will had been oppressing their minds tried to maintain control for a moment, but then crumbled.
With a single command, the Balrog wrested control of the orcs away from Sauron, freeing them from his oppressive influence, and replacing it with its own authority.
From the shadows, savage creatures opened their eyes, filled with bloodlust. Now, they would have to face a human, one with superior intelligence, and even greater brutality than themselves... Driven by fear, and the compulsion of absolute command.
Even orcs, dull as they were, could tell after witnessing this battle: this was someone who could stand against a Balrog, definitely not prey they should be hunting.
But orders were orders, and disobedience meant worse than death.
Whoosh.
The orcs surged forward, surrounding Garrett from all sides.
Garrett looked at the reorganized orc army returning to the battlefield, then glanced at the Balrog, and said with perfect politeness:
"Goodbye!"
And then turned and walked calmly toward the mountains.