...
Unfortunately, the masked man was as expressionless as a block of wood. After offering the female secretary a perfunctory apology, he turned his hollow gaze toward Phaga.
He tugged his mask down slightly, and the instant sunlight touched his exposed skin, he pulled it back up again—revealing only a pair of empty eyes that stared unblinkingly into Phaga's.
Moments later, the masked man spoke in a flat, emotionless tone.
"You dared deceive me. I'll kill you."
"Sacrifice No. 2, attack!"
At once, Sacrifice No. 2—identical to the monster Phaga had fought beneath the monument—flared its eyes and lunged forward at his command.
"So your name is Sacrifice, huh?"
As Sacrifice No. 2 closed in, Phaga felt no fear at all. In fact, his eyes glimmered with recognition.
After all, he was far too familiar with this thing.
Familiar enough that, up to this day, the only thing he hadn't known about it was its name.
Without rushing, Phaga swung his blade upward. The edge never touched Sacrifice No. 2, but an Ether crystal erupted from the ground, forming just beneath the creature's foot as it stepped forward.
Crack!
Sacrifice No. 2's ankle twisted, its massive body stumbling mid-charge. Its momentum faltered, leaving it lurching forward only through inertia.
But what was there to fear from an opponent who'd lost its balance?
By the time Sacrifice No. 2 steadied itself and lifted its head again, Phaga was already right in front of it.
Its vision went dark as Phaga's hand seized its skull. His wings beat once with tremendous force—then he slammed the creature's head straight into the ground.
Boom!
Rubble exploded outward, leaving a crater in the floor.
Still, Phaga didn't seem satisfied. Sacrifice No. 2 bore no visible injuries.
"No wonder you're that guy's second-generation product. Just how much abuse did you monsters go through before leaving the lab to be this durable?"
"But…"
Phaga's lips curled into a sharp grin. His right hand gripped Kunmutu tight and drove it straight into Sacrifice No. 2's abdomen.
Sure enough, not even a scratch appeared.
But that didn't matter. At the point of contact, the blade of Kunmutu shimmered faintly with violet light.
In seconds, clusters of Ether crystals began sprouting from the sword's tip, spreading rapidly across Sacrifice No. 2's body.
The creature froze completely, even its raised leg—mid-swing for an attack—suspended in the air.
Then, with a guttural roar, Sacrifice No. 2 thrashed wildly, kicking and flailing in rage. When it couldn't reach Phaga, it kicked at empty air, pounding the ground with furious, thunderous strikes.
But it was useless.
The Ether crystals had already enveloped its body, crawling upward like a living cage until it was completely encased, trapped in place.
"Done."
Phaga straightened, casting a disdainful glance at the immobilized creature.
It kept struggling, but the crystalline prison binding it was far too strong to break. Its resistance was nothing but a pointless tantrum.
"I'll deal with you later when I have time," Phaga muttered, turning toward the masked man.
Sacrifice No. 2 inherited its predecessor's incredible resilience. Destroying it quickly was impossible—better to test how much the masked man was worth first.
Yet the moment Phaga turned his head, his pupils contracted sharply.
Only the female secretary stood there, frozen with uncertainty, as if debating whether to flee.
Where was the masked man?
A warning bell blared in Phaga's mind. Every hair on his body stood on end. Instinctively, he leapt backward.
Boom!
The ground erupted where he had just stood. A massive foot slammed down from above— the masked man's stomp carved a crater into the earth, scattering dust and stone.
"Too bad I missed."
He shook his head, voice calm, though his expression was devoid of emotion.
Then, bending his knees, he sprang forward like a coiled spring released—his body shooting through the air like an arrow.
In the next heartbeat, he was in front of Phaga again.
He threw a punch.
Boom!
Phaga sidestepped, his right eye involuntarily squeezing shut as the violent gust from the blow tore past him.
Glancing back, he saw the wall nearly eighty meters behind him cracked and trembling, ready to collapse.
Phaga's breath hitched in surprise—just long enough for the masked man to exploit it. Seeing his punch miss, he lunged forward again and thrust out a palm.
But Phaga snapped back to focus instantly. Like a reed in the wind, he bent with the oncoming force, flipping to the ground before the strike even landed.
By the time the palm wind truly hit, he was already gone.
No movement! He's down. Advantage—mine, the masked man thought.
But as Phaga fell, his hands caught the ground. His waist twisted, driving both legs upward like whips—cracking hard beneath the masked man's chin.
The blow stunned him.
How?! That wasn't part of my calculations!
He clearly lost focus from my first strike—avoiding even one blow should've been impossible.
How could he counterattack so precisely!?
The masked man reeled backward, clutching his jaw, but his gaze never left Phaga.
Phaga rolled once, landing firmly on both feet, his crimson eyes gleaming like a wolf's—wild and dangerous.
Whoosh!
He lunged, wings snapping open to accelerate. The vampire claws wreathed in seething Nether Flame slashed down toward the masked man's abdomen!
Rip!
The sound of fabric tearing split the air. Blood sprayed as five long gashes appeared across the masked man's stomach.
"Hss... Aaaah!!!"
The masked man let out a piercing scream. Part of his clothes were shredded away by the blow, sunlight spilling over his exposed skin. Wisps of white smoke rose from his abdomen, the air filling with a sickening burnt stench.
For the first time, emotion crept into his voice—pure, visceral terror.
Terror of the sun.
"You…"
Phaga froze. He blinked several times, staring at the masked man. His claws remained raised, but he hesitated to strike.
Only then did he notice—the masked man's entire body was wrapped in clothing. Not a single inch of skin was visible.
And when Phaga had torn the fabric, he'd caught a glimpse—his skin was deathly pale.
"Damn it—Ice!"
The masked man roared. The droplets of blood still suspended in the air froze instantly, transforming into sharp shards of ice that launched toward Phaga.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Phaga stepped back rapidly, then swung his palm to shatter the last volley of ice spikes.
That confirmed it—this wasn't just any foe.
The masked man was a vampire.
And one who feared sunlight even more than Phaga did. He couldn't even withstand direct contact with it.
Just that brief exposure had burned his flesh to smoke.
Phaga chuckled lightly. "Oh my, such a severe case of sun allergy. Want me to call you a doctor?"