A Villain's Guide to Saving the World-Chapter 51: The Great Prince! Goes all out...?

Ivan sprinted at the nearest group of knights, his sword blazing with hellfire as he closed the distance. The heat radiated from the blade, making the very air shimmer with its intensity.

"Mere child’s play!"

He shouted, his voice a roar of defiance as he swung his sword down, cleaving through the front line of knights. Their armor split with a sharp metallic screech, crumpling like dry wheat under the sheer temperature of the hellfire. Sparks flew, and the ground seemed to sizzle where the heat touched it.

Before he could catch his breath, a spear shot through the air, aimed directly at his head. Ivan ducked low, his body twisting like a coiled spring.

He gripped his sword tighter, eyes narrowing as he faced the direction the attack came from. His mouth parted, releasing a steady stream of hot steam, his chest heaving with the surge of power.

"Dragon’s Breath!"

He bellowed, his voice like a furnace opening. The blast of fire erupted from his mouth, engulfing the knight who had thrown the spear.

In an instant, the knight was reduced to nothing but ashes, his armor melting away in a puddle of molten metal.

A sword sliced through the air toward Ivan’s exposed side, its blade aimed for a beheading strike. With no hesitation, Ivan twisted his body mid-motion, his own sword intercepting the incoming attack with a loud clash. Sparks erupted, the screech of metal on metal filling the air.

"Is that all?" Ivan mocked, a grin pulling at the corners of his lips. He redirected the momentum of the strike into a dramatic spin, his sword carving through the air like a hurricane. The knight’s body was cleaved in half, the two halves falling in opposite directions.

Then another knight charged—and another. Ivan didn’t falter. He was a wildfire loosed in a dry forest, every strike a blaze, every movement a blur of heat and precision. Knights crumbled before him, armor melting, blades snapping.

One in runed black steel made it close, parrying Ivan’s slash with a shield glowing faintly blue. A real fighter. Ivan’s grin widened. With a twist and upward cleave, he shattered the shield and drove the knight back in pieces.

The ground steamed beneath his feet, scorched and cratered. All around him, silence—only the crackle of hellfire.

"You all fight like children!" he called, his voice echoing across the stone.

The coliseum gates groaned again.

Ivan paused for just a moment, his eyes scanning the battlefield. More knights were emerging from the darkness beyond the coliseum gates, their shapes barely visible in the gloom.

"Keep coming at me," Ivan shouted, his voice booming over the noise of the battle, "each one of you will only fuel my strength!"

His throat glowed a brilliant gold, his eyes and hair burning with the fierce, draconic power of his heritage. It was a visual reminder of who he was, and the power he had inherited from his father.

"Crumble!" Ivan cried out, his voice reverberating with power. The knights closest to him were caught in the sonic wave of his command. Their bodies crumbled to dust, their once imposing armor collapsing in on itself. Only a few remained, and Ivan grinned.

As the last of the knights fell to the ground, Ivan’s breathing came in ragged bursts. His heart was racing, the adrenaline of battle coursing through him, but he was far from finished. There was a strange, exhilarating freedom in fighting like this, unrestricted and untethered.

As a prince, he’d been trained in the arts of the sword, in the power of dominions, but he’d never truly had a chance to use it—not while surrounded by servants and knights. Here, in this arena, he could finally unleash everything.

His gaze flicked to the edge of the arena, searching for Lucian. But the archmage was nowhere to be seen.

"What...?"

Ivan’s smirk faltered for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. Just as he was about to call out, a voice rang out, booming from above.

"You’re doing great!" Lucian’s voice floated down from the sky, where the archmage lounged lazily in the air. He was stretched out on a makeshift bed woven from darkness, his figure flickering like a shadow against the backdrop of the arena.

Lucian gave him a thumbs-up, his smirk wide and irritating.

Ivan let out a brief chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief, before he turned his attention back to the ever-growing threat of the knights. Two swords—one from each side—came at him, their blades flashing in the dim light.

Ivan weaved through their strikes, moving with an almost fluid grace. The two knights’ swords collided with each other in a loud clang, their surprise evident in their faces as they stared at one another, bewildered.

Before they could react, Ivan’s sword moved like a snake, swift and lethal, and with one swift motion, both knights’ heads were severed from their bodies.

"That should be all of them..." Ivan muttered breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow. His body ached from the constant movement, but he was far from done.

[Wave 1: Completed]

[EXP: 1,000]

Ivan froze, his gaze snapping to the glowing panel that had materialized in the air before him. The unfamiliar sight gave him pause.

"What is the meaning of this?" Ivan demanded, his voice tight with suspicion.

Lucian’s voice echoed down from above, filled with amusement. "Don’t think about it too much, just think of the numbers as how much you’re getting stronger."

Ivan raised an eyebrow, grinning as he took Lucian’s answer at face value. What else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t like he had a choice.

"Very well then!" Ivan shouted, determination flooding his veins. With his acceptance, the panel above shifted, its glowing text flashing across the sky.

[Wave 2: Begin]

The ground trembled as the gates of the coliseum groaned open once more. This time, five massive figures emerged from the shadows beyond. Frost giants.

Each one loomed large, their bodies covered in thick, ice-caked armor. Cold steam billowed from their mouths, their breath like a winter storm in the heat of the battle.

Ivan’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of them. He had heard stories of these beasts, of their strength and power, but to see them in person was something else entirely. The air seemed to chill as they advanced, and Ivan could feel the weight of their presence.

"That’s a huge jump, don’t you think?" Ivan said, his voice tinged with disbelief. His grip tightened on his sword as he prepared for the next battle.

The frost giants towered over him, and he could almost feel the cold radiating from them, creeping into his bones.

But Ivan didn’t flinch. His sword flared once more with hellfire, the blaze roaring to life with a deafening crackle. Steam hissed from his mouth as he prepared for the fight ahead.

"No matter!" Ivan shouted, his grin wide with excitement, his heart pounding with anticipation.

"You will all go down the same way!"

And with that, he charged, the flames of his sword lighting up the arena as the frost giants advanced.