The battlefield became quiet with the appearance of one being, the enemy chieftain.
The rampaging savages turned in unison to look at him.
The enemy was right before them, but they didn't care.
It didn't seem to matter if arrows flew at them.
Swish.
The chieftain waved at his tribespeople.
Then, they backed three steps away from him and stopped to watch.
The only sound came from the crackling flames.
"Hmm..."
The chieftain sighed.
Then, he walked over to the fire, stuck his hand in, and waved it once.
Even the strongest flesh was helpless in the face of fire.
His hand was shriveled and charred when he pulled it back.
The chieftain stared down at his hand, looking more interested than pained.
"That's hot.”
His burns healed in an instant.
His resilience matched, or maybe exceeded, that of a troll.
"I suppose it's possible."
...
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