Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

<Are you sure that's an elf and not an orc?>

<Master, that's racist. We can be physically imposing too!> Seraphiel chided me with an uncharacteristically energetic tone.

<Says the healer archer elf girl who has a feeble 6 base Strength. You do realize that if you were to lose your levels you would pathetically suffer defeat in a wrestling match against a 13-year-old human farm boy, right? What's more, I'm looking at an elf party with 5 archers…>

<Okay, I am willing to admit that we might have a predisposition toward a specific archetype… Also, I'm a woman, not a girl. I'm older than all four of your mates combined. You should be calling me an old lady, not Lucille.>

Hoh? I couldn't help but notice that my elf was getting more and more sassy with me over the duration of this massacre. A content smile suddenly found itself plastered across my face at the realization. It was a good sign, she was getting comfortable with her master and new team.

<That reminds me, if you're right and the tanker is an elf, how did she pass the examination? Aren't you like prepubescent teens at age 30?>

<Must be an artifact. I mean no offense but the human technology is behind the Alliance's by a good margin. She must've gotten her hands on some dwarf creation that translated her elf years to the equivalent of a human's. Or one that just simply allowed her to lie about her age.>

Hmm. Makes sense. Seraphiel's Lifebloom Arc is a prime example of the dwarves' superiority in the blacksmithing/artificing department, so I don't need convincing to believe her.

I refocused my eyes on the elf party. The tank's efforts were desperate but incredibly potent. Every time it looked like the archers would be overwhelmed, she threw herself back into the heat of combat, fending off multiple enemies at once. The weight of her entire team rested on her back, but she carried them all masterfully.

The archers weren't useless either. They might've been packed together like a group of nervous schoolchildren, but they had very good aim. Their arrows flew with precision, peppering targets in volleys. Their reloading speed was great too, providing the tank with a pretty formidable support.

One archer stood out particularly from the rest. She shot with a touch more finesse than the others. As the elf drew her bowstring back, I could see a faint glow of mana around the arrow's tip. "[Guided Arrow]," she whispered, and the projectile curved mid-flight, weaving between allies and enemies alike before striking an enemy archer in the throat. It was a clean kill, but her victory was short-lived as she fumbled for her next arrow, clearly not used to the high-pressure pace of a full-scale battle.

Another archer loosed a volley of arrows into the sky, casting "[Piercing Rain]", a spell that sent a barrage of arrows cascading down like a storm, though the spread was too wide to do any real damage. Still, they kept the enemies at bay, allowing the tank to continue her desperate assault.

Despite their efforts, it was clear the archers were completely dependent on their tank. Every time she pushed forward, they hesitated, unsure whether to follow her lead or stay behind and fire from a distance. But the tank? She was an unstoppable force, holding everything together with brute strength and sheer power of will.

As I watched her, a small smirk tugged at my lips. It wasn't often you saw someone throw themselves into battle with such reckless abandon. She wasn't just competent- she was downright impressive. But no matter how hard she fought, this strategy was laughably doomed to fail. Five archers behind one tank? That was a great recipe for disaster.

"They're screwed." I muttered under my breath when I saw more and more groups targeting hers. After all, they were easy pickings compared to a better set-up team like ours.

"That's an entire alliance!" Ayame decreed with a hint of panic in her tone. Indeed, about ten teams' worth of combatants were huddled together but they made no attempt to hurt each other.

It made sense, after all, 100 Phenoms and their Heralds would survive. If they teamed up, their chances of passing the round skyrocketed.

"Are you all ready to get to work once again? It seems we can no longer remain here and wait for the competition to eliminate each other. We need to be active, or soon we'll find ourselves facing an alliance with hundreds of opponents working together in tandem."

"You're the one who almost died… Are you ready is what we should be asking." Aurora corrected me while glancing at my side worriedly.

"I am. Those who form such big groups are going to be the biggest losers of the competition. Only the weak would throw such a rare XP farming opportunity out of the window to instead focus on simply getting out of here alive. They must be low-level scrubs. Let's ambush the group I say."

"Sure. I do need my XP after all." Ayame nodded.

"I want to catch up to you guys! I want to test my Berserker class so badly too!" Lucille cheered.

"Ghost will do whatever Master thinks is best!" Always so loyal. I want to kiss Blossom on the forehead so badly, but that will have to wait.

"I want to get XP too!" Aurora was in a good mood now that my survival was ascertained. Experience exclusive tales on m v|l e'm,p y r

"I'm in." Was all the stoic elf stated.

"Then we're all in favor. Time to farm, ladies."

…

We descended upon the alliance with the ferocity of starved beasts.

Lucille was the first to engage- after getting Shielded and buffed by Aurora- as she rushed at them with her axe in hand and eyes blazing with the fires of battle. She activated her Berserker abilities for the first time, causing a red aura to swirl around her body. "[Rageborn Frenzy!]" she roared and the ground trembled beneath her feet as she landed near her first victim. Her movements became a blur for the untrained eye as she charged into the fray with her axe crashing down on the first unfortunate soul who tried to stand against her. The impact sent the poor woman flying, forcing her body to crumple as if it were made of paper.

With her first blood drawn, her bloodlust became palpable as she cleaved through her second enemy, making her strength and speed grow slightly with each kill. "[Crimson Surge!]" she screamed and her speed increased even further with her strikes becoming even more vicious as the blood of her foes coated her weapon. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light as she continued her rampage that was accompanied by her laughter ringing out amidst the screams of the dying.

"This woman… [Lifebloom Shot]! I don't believe her! [Lifebloom Shot]! Stop taking damage all the time, I'm begging you! [Lifebloom Shot]! Use your speed to dodge, not to slay more enemies! [Lifebloom Shot]!" Seraphiel's earlier grumbling quickly turned to desperate begging as she sent healing arrow after healing arrow Lucille's way, but the receiver of her healing paid the long-eared beauty no heed at all.