Lord Phobio; The Crimson Angel.
That was what his name within the Mercenary Gang—though some would argue that his true nature resembled a devil more than an Angel.
He had a beautifully crafted face, and his body was toned to perfection.
As he stood there, watching the Dragon announce itself, he couldn't help but leak out a wry grin.
"Kekeke… you're a Dragon, huh?" His lips slowly curled up, revealing a twisted grin that handsome men shouldn't have.
Phobio looked like a snake at that point, his entire demeanor contorted to form an ugly mask of amusement.
"So what? So what if you're a Dragon?" He asked, his body suddenly relaxing as he kept up his cackles.
"Hm? Aren't you supposed to be frightened or something?"
"Nope! Why would I be?"
Phobio feared no one. That had been the case since he was little.
His special ability made it so that he was always very strong. In fact, he was the one who was always feared by those around him.
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