"The Wind Mage class, quite a wise choice," Orson remarked, standing at the edge of the bloodthirsty arena, glancing back.
Darkbo was surrounded by a radiant blue light, having chosen the wind-based mage class, which was known for being one of the strongest single-target magic classes.
"Spirit of the Free Winds, grant me wings to soar freely..." Darkbo began his long and solemn chant, his voice echoing through the arena. Orson chuckled lightly and said, "Could you be any slower?"
His gaze was filled with amusement. Unlike most NPC mages, Darkbo was clearly well-versed in his class. In fact, he'd cut down at least a third of his chant, making him much faster than most NPCs. Against other NPCs, that would give him a significant advantage.
But against a player like Orson, it was almost laughable.
"Wind Wings!"
After finishing his chant, Darkbo regained his confidence. Behind him, a pair of wind element wings appeared, allowing him to briefly soar and increase his movement speed.
"Wild Gale Rampage!"
Seeing Orson positioned too far for a direct assault, Darkbo cast a wind spell that increased his movement speed, his legs now adorned with elemental bird-shaped boots. He hovered in the air, gripping a magic staff that seemed to enhance his godly appearance.
"I admit your strength, adventurer! But I, Darkbo, have inherited the will of the God-Emperor!"
His silver hair flew wildly as he roared, "You will fall before me today!"
"Of course, of course," Orson said with a forced laugh. Darkbo seemed completely unaware of how badly he'd been beaten in the last two rounds, still full of confidence.
If Orson had been up against a professional player, they'd probably be broken mentally by now. But only players could truly understand the vast difference between them and NPCs.
Darkbo's veins bulged as he heard the mocking tone in Orson's voice. He snarled, "Blasphemer of the God-Emperor, die!"
With a furious cry, he sped toward Orson, launching a swift barrage of blue light.
Orson raised an eyebrow. Darkbo's attack was fierce, but Orson's response was simple. He raised his makeshift fire stick and pointed it forward, unleashing five basic fireballs in a row.
Darkbo froze, his eyes widening as the fireballs appeared to lack any pattern, seemingly harmless as they crashed into the ground, stirring up only a little dust.
"Is this really your strength, adventurer?" Darkbo laughed maniacally and charged forward.
The fireballs had minimal immediate impact. Darkbo wasn't concerned. At 200 meters, he was within the range for his next spell.
Orson remained calm, firing more fireballs at the ground, showing no signs of panic.
"Never underestimate the basic attack of any class. Mastering basic attacks like this requires billions of repetitions," Orson smiled, his hands moving smoothly as the fireballs continued to explode harmlessly on the ground.
Darkbo had already reached about 300 meters, and he began chanting a higher-level spell, preparing for a devastating blow. His eyes glinted with focus as he calculated the best angle to strike.
"From the spell's setup, this is the 'Hurricane Destruction'—an A-rank magic." Orson said, shaking his head in mockery.
This wind magic was one of the few area-of-effect spells available to wind mages, and if it landed, it would cover a huge area and deal devastating damage. A hit would almost certainly wipe out anyone with less than 10,000 health.
But Orson, ever confident, wasn't about to be caught off guard. Just as Darkbo completed his chant, Orson's gaze turned cold. He lifted a finger, and the ground beneath them began to hum.
Buzz! Buzz!
Fires suddenly erupted from the arena floor, encircling Darkbo in a ring, interrupting his spell formation.
Orson smirked and called out, "Fire Mage basic attack's hidden mechanism—delayed pull."
Darkbo's face turned pale as he found himself surrounded by fireballs that seemed to come from nowhere. His confidence evaporated instantly.
"This... How did you do that?" Darkbo gasped, wide-eyed, as the fireballs exploded around him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The critical strikes dealt massive damage as the fireballs hit his head, arms, and legs, breaking him down piece by piece.
Despite being slow in terms of projectile speed, fireball basic attacks had the longest duration among all the base attack types, lasting up to ten seconds as long as Orson maintained his control. This gave him the ability to strike multiple times with devastating accuracy.
"Ding!"
"You have successfully defeated Darkbo with a 3:0 victory in the Bloody Arena!"
The system announcement echoed through the air. Orson stepped back from the arena, looking over his shoulder in confusion.
"Huh? Why isn't he dead yet?" Orson muttered, stepping back a few meters.
Darkbo knelt on the ground, trembling, his body battered, but his eyes still focused on Orson. With great difficulty, he lifted his head and said, "You have earned my respect. Adventurer... you may kill me now."
"I am content. I will face my end with peace..."
Darkbo slowly rose to his feet, closed his eyes, and awaited the end, a deep sigh escaping him.
Orson looked down at the strange black sword lying on the ground, still exuding a blood-red aura. The massive number of players dying in the Celestial Fortress meant that the 1v1 battle hadn't ended.
Orson thought quietly to himself.
If he could kill Darkbo, a level 100 NPC with god-like abilities, he'd likely get a lot of great loot. And if he could get his hands on the black sword... well, that was probably a top-tier magic weapon.
But there was a risk. If luck wasn't on his side, he could end up getting nothing, since the old man was practically wearing no equipment aside from that black sword.
Orson considered asking Madman to steal it, but Madman was stuck in another fight, unable to escape, and time was running short. So stealing didn't seem like a viable option anymore.
"Swear loyalty to me, and I will teach you the ultimate combat techniques. You'll become a god among NPCs!" Orson said, testing the waters.
"The ultimate combat techniques..." Darkbo's eyes widened with shock and intrigue, a brief flicker of excitement flashing through his expression.
The power radiating from Orson was beyond anything he had ever seen—comparable even to the youthful God-Emperor at the peak of his strength.
No... in fact, it might be even greater.
Darkbo sighed bitterly and said, "I have little time left... I fear I cannot comply."
"You have successfully persuaded Darkbo."
"Darkbo, the Battle Saint, has expressed regret. His life is now limited to less than 30 days."
A new notification appeared, and Orson's eyes lit up with excitement. Darkbo seemed genuinely moved by his offer.
"Hidden Quest Triggered!"
[The Regret of the Battle Saint]
Quest Description: Darkbo, knowing his time is short, can only recover his strength by obtaining life-extending items. These might include rare objects such as the Fountain of Youth, the Orc God Crown, or the First Light of Creation. Otherwise, Darkbo will die in 30 days.
Quest Reward: [Battle Bro] Permission unlocked. Darkbo will swear loyalty to you.
This quest has no penalties.
Upon abandoning the quest, Darkbo will grant you the forbidden magic weapon [Gladiator's Bloodthirsty King Sword].
Orson's eyes gleamed with joy as he read the quest rewards. Darkbo, in his prime, had 500 million health points—a top-tier NPC under the God-Emperor!
[Battle Bro] was a special permission that allowed players to recruit NPCs as allies, usually unlocked only after level 60. In Infinite Dimensions, [Battle Beast] had a similar purpose, but [Battle Bro] operated under an independent action mode, meaning it didn't interfere with a player's regular activities like leveling or questing.
Orson quickly sobered as he saw the mention of the rare items needed for Darkbo's extended life. These were difficult to obtain—likely even more so than the Dragon King's Horn or the Titan's Eye. Even if he had a year, he probably wouldn't be able to find them.
"Items that extend life..." Orson furrowed his brows, thinking deeply. Suddenly, something clicked, and he remembered an item in his inventory!