[The red dot on the radar indicates a Low-Level Xenos.
It is recommended that Phainon be dispatched to eliminate it.]
Cyrene stared at the panel, the crimson dot of light moving slowly across it.
[By the way, eliminating Xenos is an effective way to acquire Memory Imprints.]
The System’s voice remained as flat and emotionless as ever.
Cyrene’s fingertips curled slightly, unconsciously tightening her grip on the bedsheet beneath her.
In her mind, the hellish tableau unfolded once more.
The torn-apart armored vehicle, the limbs flying through the air, and the dark red monster that had slaughtered an entire army.
The nauseating stench of blood seemed to linger in the air.
She turned to look at Phainon.
The young man stood quietly by the window, moonlight spilling over his golden pauldrons, casting a cold, flowing sheen.
“Um…”
Cyrene swallowed hard, her voice hesitant.
“Didn’t Phainon say he only has a fraction of his strength left?”
She turned her head, her azure, diamond-shaped pupils filled with worry.
“Facing a monster like that…
will he really be okay?
I mean, what if…”
What if something happens to him?
And if it does, what could I possibly do?
Sending a still-weakened companion into danger made her feel deeply uneasy.
Although she knew they would have to face monsters eventually, she hadn’t expected them to arrive so soon.
She had originally planned to find an opportunity for Phainon to recover some of his strength before undertaking such a perilous task.
[Rest assured.]
But the System interrupted her worries.
[The current world is in the early stages of the Cataclysm.
The Xenos capable of withstanding missiles have not yet emerged.]
[With Phainon’s current physical capabilities, handling a target of this level is as easy as crushing an insect.]
[Furthermore, if Phainon encounters an enemy he cannot defeat, he can enter the Physical Data Space from anywhere to evade danger.
So please, rest assured.]
After hearing the System’s explanation, Cyrene pressed her lips together.
The heavy stone in her chest finally lightened somewhat.
“That’s good.”
She took a deep breath, looked up, and met Phainon’s eyes seriously.
“Phainon, the red dot is to the southeast, very close.”
Cyrene pointed to the location on the panel, her tone tentative and questioning.
“If it’s not too much trouble, could I ask you to take care of it?”
Phainon followed her finger and glanced at the radar.
He then withdrew his gaze, his eyes reflecting Kephale curving slightly.
“Leave it to me.”
His voice was warm and mellow, carrying a reassuring power.
“Since it’s Cyrene’s request, and it’s to protect this place, I have a duty to act.”
Without any hesitation, Phainon turned and walked toward the bedroom balcony.
The night wind billowed his snow-white robes, making them flutter loudly.
He placed one hand on the railing, his body as light as a feather.
“Wait, wait a minute!”
Cyrene’s eyes widened.
She scrambled off the bed, her bare feet thudding heavily on the floor.
“This is the third floor!”
Before her words could fade, Phainon’s figure had already vanished over the railing.
Cyrene rushed to the balcony’s edge, gripping the cold iron railing tightly, and leaned halfway out to look down.
The lawn below was empty, with only bent blades of grass swaying in the night wind.
He was long gone.
“He…
he just jumped?”
Cyrene’s mouth hung open.
The entire sequence of movements had been so fluid, without even a hint of impact.
[Although his power is limited, he was once someone who faced destruction head-on.]
The System’s mechanical voice seemed tinged with a hint of resignation.
[To him, this height is no different from level ground.
You seem to lack the most basic understanding of your companion.]
“Mmm…”
Cyrene shrank back awkwardly, scratching her flushed cheek with her index finger.
“Worry makes one reckless…
I was worrying for nothing.”
The night was as thick as ink.
The city’s neon lights couldn’t penetrate this remote, deep alley; only the occasional sound of distant traffic highlighted the dead silence here.
“We’re here.
This must be the place.”
Phainon stopped, tapping his finger in the air to close the translucent, pale blue light screen before him.
He tilted his head slightly, his straight nose sniffing the air.
The stench of rotting garbage, and…
a faint, nauseating smell of rust and blood.
Without hesitation, Phainon strode forward, his boots thudding rhythmically on the damp stone slabs as he walked step by step into the profound darkness.
Crunch…
Crunch…
Barely ten meters into the alley, a grating, teeth-grinding sound pierced his eardrums.
It was the sound of bone grinding against teeth, echoing through the enclosed alleyway, exceptionally jarring.
Phainon halted, his brow furrowing slightly.
“What an unpleasant sound.”
He muttered to himself, his right hand clenching into a loose fist.
Vwoom!
Golden particles converged wildly in his palm, and the air instantly grew scorching and dry.
In the next instant, the enormous two-handed sword, “Dawnmaker,” solidified in his hand, the Sun patterns on its blade emitting a faint yet majestic glow in the darkness.
Crunch.
As if sensing the aura of a high-level predator, the chewing sound from the alley’s depths abruptly ceased.
The entire alley fell into an eerie, dead silence, as if even the wind had frozen.
Faced with this calm before the storm, Phainon’s expression remained unchanged.
He maintained his original pace, each step precisely measured, as if strolling through his own backyard, continuing to advance into the depths of the darkness.
Swoosh!
Just as he passed a corner piled high with discarded cardboard boxes, the darkness above was suddenly torn apart!
A piercing shriek of air, carrying a foul, gusting wind, plunged straight down toward Phainon’s head!
It was a black shadow, moving so fast its outline was nearly invisible, launching a fatal sneak attack under the cover of night.
Yet, Phainon didn’t even look up.
As if rehearsed thousands of times, the moment the shadow lunged, he pivoted on his right foot, his waist twisting with explosive force, spinning like a top.
“Too slow.”
Accompanied by a cold whisper, he swung the incredibly heavy “Dawnmaker” Great Sword with one hand, transforming it into a golden crescent moon that struck the black shadow before it could land!
Shhhlick—!
There was no crisp clang of metal on metal, only the dull thud of a sharp blade slicing through tough leather.
“ROAR—!!”
A piercing shriek erupted as the black shadow was violently flung away by the immense kinetic energy, slamming hard against the brick wall on the other side of the alley.
Bang!
The wall trembled violently, showering down rubble and dust.
Under the faint glow from Dawnmaker’s blade, the attacker’s true form was finally revealed.
It was a humanoid monster, its entire body covered in a glossy, jet-black carapace, its limbs disproportionately long and slender.
Instead of hands, its forelimbs had evolved into two sharp bone scythes, making it resemble a mutated mantis magnified several times over.
At this moment, dark red flesh fragments and slime still clung to the monster’s mouth, its murky compound eyes filled with agony and hatred.
And across its tough abdomen, a terrifying sword wound had nearly sliced it in two.
No blood flowed from the wound, as the flesh and blood there had been instantly carbonized by the intense heat from Dawnmaker, emitting a scorched smell.
Golden embers continued to burn along the wound’s edge, hissing softly.
“It seems your intelligence isn’t half bad, knowing to use the terrain for an ambush.”
Phainon, carrying his Greatsword, slowly walked up to the monster collapsed on the ground, his tone as flat as if he were critiquing a dish.
“Hiss—Roar—”
The monster writhed on the ground, letting out agonized hisses and roars.
It tried to struggle to its feet, its sharp forelimbs carving deep grooves into the concrete, but the fatal wound to its abdomen had left its lower body completely numb, allowing only futile twitches.
Phainon looked down at the ugly creature from above, his eyes showing neither pity nor disgust, only indifference.
“Unfortunately, you made a fatal mistake.”
He slowly raised the Greatsword in his hand, its tip aimed at the monster’s head.
“When the prey detects the hunter, the smart move is to flee, to cling to life in the shadows, not to do this…”
Phainon’s voice paused for a moment, then the Greatsword in his hand plunged down!
“…willingly offering your own neck to my blade.”
Squelch!
The broad blade pierced the monster’s skull without resistance, pinning it firmly to the concrete floor.
The monster’s limbs convulsed violently a few times before it went completely still.
“Hah.”
Phainon released the hilt and let out a soft, weary breath.
“Such tenacious life force.
Its nerves remained active for nearly ten seconds after its brain was destroyed?”
He shook his head, and with a wave of his right hand, the Greatsword embedded in the ground dissolved into countless golden motes of light that vanished into the air.
“Mission complete.
Time to report back to Cyrene.”
Phainon straightened his unruffled robes and turned toward the alley entrance, quickly disappearing into the night.
The alley returned to a deathly silence.
Only the gradually cooling monster corpse lay quietly in the center of the ruins, a silent testament to the slaughter that had just occurred.
About ten minutes later.
A flurry of hurried, chaotic footsteps shattered the alley’s silence.
Several blinding tactical flashlight beams instantly pierced the darkness, dancing wildly across the alley walls.
“Move!
The energy signature vanished right here!”
“Team A, secure the exit!
Team B, advance with me!
Stay alert!”
A squad of soldiers in black special operations gear, wielding heavy firearms, rushed into the alley with tense expressions.
They moved back-to-back, muzzles aimed at every shadow that could conceal a person, their tactical boots splashing through puddles of murky water.
“Captain!
We’ve got something here!”
The soldier at the front suddenly halted, his voice trembling slightly.
Several beams instantly converged on his position.
At the center of the light, the corpse of the mantis-like monster, nearly sliced in two, came into everyone’s view.
“This is…”
The Captain’s pupils contracted sharply.
He strode forward and knelt to examine the monster’s wound.
“This cut…
it was a single, fatal blow.”
The Captain reached out and, through his tactical glove, touched the charred marks at the wound’s edge, feeling a lingering warmth.
“And the wound was instantly carbonized by high heat, not a single drop of blood spilled…
What kind of weapon did this?”
He looked up, scanning the empty, dark alley, a deep sense of dread and confusion flashing in his eyes.
“No shell casings, no signs of a struggle.
It’s like…
a completely one-sided slaughter.”
The Captain swallowed hard and spoke into his comms in a low voice:
“Command Center, this is Falcon Squad.
Target has been eliminated…
Repeat, target was eliminated by an unknown party.
The scene…
is exceptionally clean.”