The vast arena of the Coliseum had fallen into a strange silence.
At the center of the bloodstained sand, a beautiful young woman walked slowly beneath the watchful eyes of the crowd.
Long hair flowed down her back like a delicate blend of gold and snow, swaying softly beneath the scorching wind of the arena.
Her face showed obvious nervousness.
Standing before her…
Mongrel.
The black armor seemed to absorb all light around it. Resting on his shoulder was a dark odachi with a deadly appearance, while the terrifying demonic mask concealed any trace of emotion.
Even standing still, he emanated a suffocating pressure.
The difference between the two seemed absurd.
Part of the audience even felt pity for the young woman.
She looked fragile.
Far too beautiful.
Perhaps it was simply human instinct… but people always tended to sympathize more with beautiful faces.
The young woman continued walking slowly across the arena until she finally stopped in front of Mongrel.
Then—
Fragments of essence began to shine around her body.
An elegant silver armor materialized around her figure, reflecting the scarlet light of the Coliseum.
Moments later, a rusty iron sword appeared in her hand.
The weapon looked simple.
Old.
Almost pathetic compared to Mongrel's monstrous black odachi.
The young woman took a deep breath before speaking softly:
—I hope we have a good battle.
Her voice carried nervousness… but also genuine kindness.
Behind the demonic mask, Sunny silently observed the girl standing before him.
Then he answered calmly:
—This will not be a battle.
The cold arrogance in his voice made part of the crowd shudder.
'Sunny…'
Samael felt his heart race.
'I'm talking to Sunny.'
Even trying to maintain composure, the overwhelming happiness he felt almost made him grin like an idiot in the middle of the arena.
The moment felt surreal.
For an instant, he completely forgot he was there to fight.
He simply wanted to engrave that scene into his memory forever.
In the stands, several people began whispering among themselves.
—She doesn't stand a chance…
A middle-aged man watched the arena with his arms crossed.
—Mongrel is undefeated. Honestly… I'm starting to doubt that thing is even human.
As he said that, he involuntarily remembered his own fight against him.
Or rather…
The completely one-sided massacre he suffered.
The only reason the battle lasted more than a few seconds was because Mongrel had clearly decided to toy with him.
Then—
Under the crowd's incredulous gazes, the young woman moved.
Fast.
Far too fast.
The rusty sword sliced through the air in a violent horizontal strike aimed directly at Mongrel's torso.
CLANG!
The black odachi blocked the attack effortlessly.
Sparks exploded throughout the arena.
But before Samael could even react—
The gigantic black blade was already mere centimeters from his neck.
'Too fast!'
His body moved on pure instinct.
Samael retreated at the last second, feeling the tip of the odachi nearly graze his throat.
Without hesitating, he spun his body and delivered a low kick toward Mongrel's supporting leg.
Sunny stepped back smoothly.
The next instant, the odachi came crashing down toward Samael's head.
He barely managed to dodge.
The blade sliced through several strands of his golden hair before smashing into the sand.
'Damn…'
His heart pounded wildly and unevenly.
"He's far better at swordsmanship than I am."
Without wasting time, Samael charged forward again and attempted a front kick toward Mongrel's chest.
Sunny blocked it easily.
Still, the impact allowed Samael to create some distance.
He took a deep breath.
He needed to think.
Fast.
—You've grown stronger since the last time.
Samael spoke casually, trying to provoke some kind of reaction.
Mongrel slightly tilted his head.
—I know.
Behind the mask, Sunny had absolutely no idea what the girl was talking about.
But Weaver's Mask forced him.
To answer with the opposite of what he thought.
'…What is she talking about?'
Samael nearly had a heart attack from sheer happiness.
'HE ANSWERED ME!'
Even in the middle of battle, part of him wanted to start a random conversation about Shadow Slave.
But another part of him was desperately trying to figure out a way to survive.
—My last opponent wasn't even close to your level, Mongrel… although I think I may have overestimated the Lord of Shadows.
Sunny froze for a brief instant.
—Lord of Shadows?
The confusion in his voice was genuine.
But beneath the mask—
'Damn it…'
Sunny immediately felt jealous.
'That name sounds unbelievably cool.'
Compared to it, "Mongrel" sounded terrible.
Samael smiled inwardly.
—He was quite a formidable cockroach.
The moment he finished speaking, he hurled the rusty sword directly at Mongrel.
The black odachi deflected the weapon effortlessly.
But it had only been a distraction.
At the same instant, Samael summoned the Bow of Despair.
The spectral string vibrated.
An arrow formed entirely from essence violently crossed the arena.
Sunny's gaze sharpened.
CLANG!
The arrow was deflected at the last moment.
Even so, Mongrel was forced to take a step back.
The crowd erupted into murmurs.
Samael wasted no time.
Another arrow instantly appeared.
But before he could fire—
Sunny vanished.
Shadow Step.
The black figure appeared behind him like a phantom.
Samael reacted instantly.
Spinning his body, he used the bow itself as an improvised melee weapon.
Mongrel grabbed the bow with visible surprise.
'Good reaction.'
The next instant—
A brutal kick was launched toward his abdomen.
Sunny blocked the sunlight once more.
But Samael had never intended to hit him.
His true objective was to create distance.
The moment he retreated, fragments of essence reappeared around him.
An Ascended spear materialized in his hands.
Samael attacked immediately.
The spear sliced through the air toward Mongrel's chest with deadly speed.
CLANG!
The black odachi intercepted the strike perfectly.
The impact reverberated throughout the entire arena.
The audience watched the battle in complete shock.
A metallic cacophony echoed through the Coliseum as the two combatants exchanged brutal blows at absurd speeds.
Bloodstained sand exploded beneath their feet.
—That girl…
The man in the stands stared fixedly at the arena with widened eyes.
The young woman who had seemed timid and harmless before…
Was actually a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Her fighting style was unpredictable.
Brutal.
Chaotic.
And somehow…
She was managing to keep up with that macabre demon in his bloody dance.