When the Balrog walked out of the crack, the temperature of the underground space increased significantly within a few breaths.
Its body emerged from the darkness, first a pair of burning yellow eyes, then the outline of its head, then its shoulders, torso and limbs.
Its height in an upright state is about several times that of an ordinary orc. The outline of its body is wrapped in a layer of moving shadows and flames that continue to burn in the depths, like a humanoid ember that is burning in a fixed form.
Its manes are formed by the convergence of flames and steam, which scatter outwards as it moves, evaporating into fine white mist the moment it touches the air, and then being reabsorbed back to its surface by the high temperature around the crack channel, forming a continuous cycle of shimmering light.
It held a long flame whip in its hand. The color of the handle was darker than the flames, showing an almost dark red texture, as if it had been continuously burned. The whip body was condensed by flames, dragging a short light trail as it slowly swung in the air.
The orcs retreated simultaneously at the moment the figure appeared, like a dark tide driven by the same force being forcibly pushed through a gate. The body curled up unconsciously, the lower jaw was drawn toward the neck, and the gaze avoided the Balrog's sight.
That is the level of obedience imprinted in instinct. It is an almost instinctive level habit that has been continuously solidified and precipitated in the process of being in the same camp and working with the same commanders for many years.
There is no need for orders or threats. As long as they see that silhouette appearing in their field of vision, they will automatically retreat to a safe distance.
Even though their number far exceeds the Balrog's individual size, the ancient, hierarchical order still maintains firm control within their bodies.
Flame Dragon followed and squeezed out of the crack.
Its size was revealed in its struggle, first the head, then the neck and forelimbs, then the huge part of the thorax, and finally the huge, folded wings and the thick tail end.
The passage was reluctant to accommodate its entry, and the width of its shoulders and wing roots repeatedly got stuck on the edge of the crack. Every time it tried to push forward, the resistance would leave new scratches on its surface.
When it finally passed completely, its width had worn away part of the rock formations on both sides of the passage, making the space for subsequent passage wider than when it first entered.
Its body paused briefly after passing through. The bones of its limbs and wings were gradually returning to their original positions after continuous squeezing. The sound from the joints caused it to make a low grunt, almost parallel to the resonance of the mountain.
It was as if it was stuffed into a mold that was slightly smaller than itself. When the mold finally cracked, it could regain the direction in which its limbs should extend.
The first puff of hot air it emitted was hot and heavy, carrying the smell of fire and magma, and spread along the passage, causing the surrounding temperature to rise again.
Its body surface is covered with a layer of flowing flames, which is different from the flames on the Balrog, and more like the slowly flowing luminous liquid on the surface of magma, wrapping its scales and wings, forming a continuous, orange-red light layer on its back.
The underground space is indeed too small for its size.
It tried to spread its wings, and the wingtips hit the rock wall on the side, bringing down a piece of gravel and dust. As its tail swung backwards, it swept across the support structure of a mine tunnel, causing the wooden pile to tilt outward for a distance when it contacted its tail, making a sound that was close to breaking.
It tried to move its body again, its front paws pressing several scorch marks and dents on the floor of the mine tunnel, while its back brushed against the ceiling of the cave.
Amidst the grinding sound it made as it squeezed through, falling ash and rubble fell from the air, covering the piles of rubble and discarded wood on both sides of the passage.
Balrog stepped forward, raised the long flame whip in his hand, and drew a fast and precise arc in the air. The tip of the whip struck the side of Flame Dragon, making a crisp sound and leaving a dark mark on Dragon's scales.
Dragon's body shrank suddenly under the lash, his head and neck bowed slightly, and he let out a short and low whimper. Then his range of movements significantly restrained, and he no longer tried to expand his space.
Instead, he slowly retreated in the direction of the Balrog's whip, moved along the slope on the side of the underground space in the direction of the magma river, and slid into it the moment he touched the surface of the magma.
The scorching heat made it make a muffled sound that was less than a breath long, and then it became quiet, and only its outline was still vaguely visible on the flowing luminous surface.
After Dragon entered the magma, Balrog withdrew his long whip and turned to the fissure behind him. In the fissure, a new figure was slowly and steadily walking out.
Sauron's figure is shorter than the Balrog, but when his footsteps step on the broken ground, every step falls evenly and steadily.
It's like a person who knows the structure and rhythm of the entire space is walking step by step through a passage that he has walked through many times.
Its whole body was covered with black armor, and the edges of the seams of the armor had a very faint, barely noticeable matte color in the continuous high temperature.
It paused for a moment after walking out of the crack, turned its head, and slowly scanned the layout of the underground space. Then it turned to the retreating orcs and the flame Dragon with its back exposed in the magma further away, and finally fell on the Balrog.
When it spoke, its voice had a unique deep texture after being compressed by a multi-layered metal structure, like an anvil that had been repeatedly forged and placed in an empty cave.
Each knock is transmitted to a distant place, and then bounces back on the rock wall. Part of it is sucked into the cracks in the rock wall, and the rest returns to the speaker.
A slowly dissipating echo formed around the figure wrapped in armor, "The environment here is more suitable for transformation than I expected.
The size of the space can be adjusted and the direction of the passage can be re-excavated.
As long as those abandoned mine tunnels are cleared out, the existing underground structure is enough to support the operation of a large workshop."
The Balrog's eyes did not move away from Sauron. The flame whip in his hand dropped to one end of the ground as he spoke, burning a piece of gravel into dark red, and then gradually cooled, leaving a slightly sunken black mark flattened by the high temperature on the surface of the rock formation.
It asked, "That ancient existence... is on that side of the passage, and I sensed it. Won't it intervene?"
Sauron stopped a few steps away from the Balrog, turned around, and faced the Balrog's direction. "We are already here. This means that the other party will not interfere."
Its voice was still steady, "We are facing a human on the island who owns Demon Dragon and his men.
No matter what kind of army and firepower they have, they are only forces on the mortal level.
The environment here can be used to build armories and foundry workshops. The direction of the underground veins and the location of the magma heat source are also highly consistent with the casting process we need."