Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

However, their attention was snapped toward Black Fang's voice. "He's finally making his move…"

"Why are you so damn fixated on him anyways? I admit that the age-measuring artifact finding him to be 7 weeks old is a real curiosity, but what else?" The man with the twirly mustache asked.

"Maybe she just likes that he chose to follow a unique build… Not many mages are comfortable without wands or staves to assist them in casting. You could even say that the confidence with which he hurls those spells of his with only a saber is on par with the most experienced mages of the entire continent." The slaver woman elaborated.

"So?" The army head asked while looking at Black Fang.

"Nothing. I just have a feeling."

"... You bet 10,000 gold just because your guts told you he would be special…?" The intelligence head murmured with pure disbelief. He was a logical man who based his actions on what his head told him was the best move, yet Black Fang was the exact opposite, making it hard for him to accept her way of life.

"I don't care about money… I don't even know if I have a single gold coin to my name or 100,000. I leave all these boring details to Orianna. I only bet money because you people are so hung up on it. If you want, we can stake our lives instead. I could use the XP killing you four would give me."

'Another unhinged statement from the unhinged woman's lips…' Many of them thought while eyeing Black Fang wryly. She was ready to bet her life? Because she felt like there was more to Devil than what met the eye?

They were all weirdos in their own right, after all, living for many centuries does a number on a human's mental health, but none of them were as far gone as Black Fang, who also happened to be the youngest of them. The six heads already felt like sighing when they imagined what she would be like in a few hundred years.

"It's about time we begin, no? Protect this weak backliner, I'm brittle like glass." Devil spoke up as he stepped forth, drawing the attention of the Obsidian Circle Members. The arena had numerous artifacts surrounding it, a few of which helped the observation room they were occupying to give the best viewing experience possible, which included having the ability to mute other audio sources and hone in on a single segment they were curious about.

"Brittle like glass? If I ever need to build a home, I'll make sure to ask you where you found glass with the sturdiness of adamantite." Wrath replied with an annoyed scoff due to his audacity to call himself fragile. He tanked an intermediate-tier fire attack from Selene to his face, after all...n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"You're putting me on a pedestal, I don't deal well with pressure…" He then suddenly paused then looked towards one of the artifacts, "Lady Black Fang, I have a feeling tugging at my chest which tells me that you're not only watching but even hearing our words. If that is indeed the case, let me say that I don't know why you seem to be so hellbent on being my sponsor, I'm just a weak mage with a shitty hybrid build."

"Oh, he is pretty smart." The mediator nodded in appreciation. Not many youngsters had the deep knowledge of artifacts that would suggest they were watching from the shadows.

The three men who made the bet with Black Fang looked at her with visible glee in their features. His words reinforced their thoughts about him and his current strength.

"Devil, don't play coy with me…" Black Fang whispered as an amused but also unsettling grin that went from ear to ear erupted on her features.

As if hearing her words, he spoke up, "However, I have to apologize. I lied."

"Huh?!" Multiple circle members questioned as they had an ominous feeling tugging at their stomachs. Their long lives gave them a lot of experiences, and all their wisdom told them that they were in big trouble.

"I kept my true strength hidden to make my life easier, but I'd decided to drop the act. I'm not a jack of all trades who is the master of none, but I'm a jack of all trades who is the master of all."

He slowly, measuredly drew his pitch-black saber and aimed it in front of him to a point where multiple monsters and teams were congregated at.

"[Bouncing Flames]"

A burning projectile erupted from the tip of the black saber, streaking toward its unsuspecting victim. It struck the nearest goblin and ignited its body in an instant. The fire didn't stop there - it was just starting.

As the name implied, it leaped from the goblin's writhing form to a nearby hobgoblin, wrapping around it like a whip of pure destruction. The hobgoblin shrieked as the flames tore through its armor and flesh before bounding again, leaving only a charred corpse in its wake.

Each leap of the fire was faster than the last as it raced across the battlefield. From goblins to ogres, it moved like a predator, devouring everything it touched. An orc bellowed as the flames engulfed its torso with the fire searing through its muscles and charring its bones before it could even swing its weapon.

The inferno ricocheted to a pack of werewolves whose speed proved useless against the relentless magic. Their nature to work in packs was their downfall because they were too close proximity to each other to dodge in time.

One after another, they fell. Their fur and flesh were consumed by the unyielding blaze.

Then, it reached one of the towering war trolls.

The flames struck the troll's chest. It didn't even try to dodge. Their nature was all about brute strength prevailing over their foes, which was best aided not by their high physical stats but by their special trait, their extremely potent regeneration.

The creature howled in agony, letting out a guttural, primal sound that echoed across the arena. It clawed at its burning flesh, ripping away charred chunks, only for the flames to cling to it tighter. It seemed as if it was feeding on the regenerating tissue like a parasite. The troll staggered with its massive club falling from its hands as it dropped to its knees while trembling under the burning onslaught.

The spell's previous prey would've long since fallen dead, but a war troll was different. The hideous monster's regeneration kicked in at full force.

Its scorched flesh bubbled and twisted, forcing the fire to consume it again and again. The flames shrieked as if they were a living organism who refused to yield as they burned brighter and hotter with each moment. Smoke billowed around the troll, obscuring its hulking frame, but the sound of its wailing and the sickening crackle of burning flesh continued, making many in the audience gasp in pain while others watched the misery of the monster with sparkling eyes.

It seemed as though the fire would win.

However, suddenly steam started hissing from the troll's skin as its regeneration surged ahead of the destructive nature of the fire spell, which quickly lost its momentum.

It didn't take long for it to go out entirely.