Before Phaga stood an Ethereal—its second form, the evolved state of the one he had fought before.
Its skirt was gone.
Or rather, it had been lifted by tough, spider-like limbs beneath, revealing everything underneath without a hint of shame.
There, at its center, was a massive flower bud, flanked by rigid sepals. Above that, the slender waist—once graceful and soft—had withered into something thin and dry, like a brittle stalk unnaturally supporting her upper body.
The graceful arms that once resembled polished jade were gone, replaced by two vast, fan-shaped constructs of ethereal matter
A single flap was enough to whip up a violent gale—and it was with those very fans that Phaga had nearly been killed in a surprise attack earlier.
But even that wasn't the greatest danger.
Phaga narrowed his eyes, locking his gaze on Nineveh's head—the one part of her body that had changed the least, and yet the most.
"Least," because the petals around her head had merely unfurled into six.
"Most," because the hem of her former skirt now gathered behind her like a crown, seven pink bony protrusions jutting outward—each tipped with a gleaming blade. And on every blade, a [Core] stared straight at Phaga, their combined gaze enough to seize the soul.
Gulp—
Phaga swallowed hard, spun around, and fled. His wings beat furiously, and in an instant, he vanished among the dense, decaying skyscrapers of the abandoned city.
Seeing this, Nineveh immediately soared after him. One sweep of her massive, fan-like limbs sent a building flying into the air.
Phaga, hiding within, was instantly exposed. He watched in horror as the [Cores] at the tips of those blade-like limbs began to glow—and within seconds, a laser shot toward him.
Phaga dodged sideways, cursing his luck under his breath, and darted behind another crumbling tower.
But Nineveh didn't relent. It was as if she had locked onto him completely.
Wherever Phaga fled, she followed—precise, unyielding. No path went to waste. No structure survived untouched.
Destruction erupted in her wake. The city screamed around them as skyscrapers collapsed one after another in a chorus of ruin.
If someone were to look down from above, they'd think a living trail of devastation was chasing Phaga across the ruins—countless Ethereal corpses tumbling from broken buildings, shattering into glowing fragments that flickered faintly around Nineveh.
Eerie. Terrifying.
Phaga darted through the air, gritting his teeth as he cleared his path. "What the hell's going on!? How is that bastard still on my tail!? It's like glue—can't shake her off!"
Whoosh!
Another sound came—low and corrosive.
Phaga recognized it immediately. Without even glancing back, he veered aside, wings beating sharply.
Sure enough, a blazing laser streaked past, carving a deep trench several meters wide through the ground below.
A direct hit would've killed him instantly.
But he couldn't relax—not yet. Based on experience, Nineveh's assault was far from over.
Phaga deliberately slowed his flight, even angling forward to face her head-on.
Whoosh!
As expected, a violent gust tore past him.
He crossed his arms before him to shield against the blast, peering through the narrow gap between them—just in time to see Nineveh's two massive, fan-like blades crash forward with a thunderous roar.
The building between them didn't even last a heartbeat before it was pulverized into dust.
As the fans drew apart again, nothing remained but a drifting cloud of gray ash.
"You're seriously strong! But what's with the constant chasing, huh!?"
Phaga's mouth twitched as he shouted, half furious, half desperate. He twisted midair and lashed out with a kick, his heel striking Nineveh's body.
Using the recoil, combined with the explosive power of his wings, Phaga shot forward like an arrow—
...or so he thought.
It had worked before. He'd escaped like this several times already.
But this time was different.
Nineveh didn't follow up with her usual barrage of lasers and sweeping attacks. She didn't even bother.
She knew that trick was useless now—and she was furious.
A mere insect, with flimsy fly-like wings and pathetic tricks, had forced her—the Outer Dominion Overlord of Hollow Zero—to exert herself fully, yet still failed to kill him?
Unacceptable.
A crimson flash flickered across Nineveh's form as her entire body spun violently. In an instant, she transformed into a roaring tornado.
Rocks, rubble—everything was sucked into the vortex as it surged straight toward Phaga.
"Damn it—what the hell is this now!?"
The pressure was overwhelming. Phaga couldn't help but curse aloud.
The tornado's pull was too strong. Even at full strength, escaping would've been difficult. Now, with his blood and stamina nearly drained, and his wings aching from exhaustion, it was nearly impossible.
[Should I charge in?]
Phaga glanced back at the spiraling storm, mind racing.
If he plunged straight into the vortex, he wouldn't need to fight against the storm's pull anymore. He could conserve what little strength he had left.
[But if I go in… I'll have to face that monster head-on.]
He hesitated. Hadn't he been running all this time precisely to avoid that?
He knew full well that Nineveh could crush him with a single blow—no harder than squashing an insect like Arlaune beneath his heel.
But then he clenched his teeth.
"Fine. If it's a gamble, I'll gamble! I can't fly anymore!"
He'd been running for too long. His strength was gone. The tornado's pressure made it worse.
With a roar of defiance, Phaga crossed his arms and dove.
Ten bloody lines split open across his forearms in an instant.
Blood poured down, coating his skin, solidifying into a shimmering scarlet armor.
He beat his wings hard—not to flee, but to dive straight into the tornado.
Boom!
His claws tore through the flying debris, forcing his way inside the raging winds.
But it wasn't enough.
The smaller shards cut into him like blades, the larger ones struck like hammers.
Using only his arms for protection was futile. Most of his body was exposed, his only defense the thin blood armor clinging to him.
But the blood armor wasn't made for defense—it was meant to amplify a vampire's power and speed. Protection was only a minor side effect.
Within seconds, tiny holes riddled the crimson coating.
Shards of rubble pierced through, peppering Phaga's body with bloody marks. Soon, those would become open wounds, tearing their way into his flesh.
Thud!
A massive boulder slammed into him. The blood armor shattered instantly, bursting into motes of light that were swept away by the raging winds.
Nineveh sensed the change.
The seven [Cores] along her skirt, which had been tracking Phaga in turns, all flashed in alert. The [Core] atop her head flickered with disdainful yellow light.
A mere insect—it was impressive that he'd survived this long. But an insect was still an insect. If he couldn't even withstand her storm, how could he ever face her true power?
[He's fought hard enough. Let's just eat him, shall we? "Me"?]
[Agreed, "Me."]
[Then it's settled... Wait—]
Nineveh stopped mid-sentence. The seven [Cores] on her skirt all turned sharply toward a flicker of flame—a fierce, crimson fire tearing through the last barrier of the tornado, charging straight toward her.
Whoosh!
Nineveh's fury erupted. Her [Cores] screamed, and her fan-like flesh crashed down toward Phaga, determined to obliterate the insolent ant that dared challenge her.
Yet Phaga didn't move.
Since the moment he had broken through, he hadn't made a single aggressive motion. The flames on his body had already gone out. He floated in midair, motionless—resigned to his fate.
Seeing that, Nineveh felt a grim satisfaction. But she didn't stop. The fleshy fan came crashing down, smashing Phaga to bits in an instant.
Or so it seemed.
Wait... blood spray?
Nineveh froze. The [Core] above her head contracted sharply, while the seven [Cores] around her skirt flashed in alarm.
"What? Haven't you made enough noise already?"
A weak voice echoed from within the storm.
Phaga, bleeding from all seven orifices, clung stubbornly to the underside of Nineveh's inverted skirt. With a final pull, he dragged himself through, tumbling down until he slammed against her neck.
He tried several times to get up, but his limbs refused to obey. His wings were broken, his blood nearly gone. Only sheer willpower kept him conscious.
"Luckily... I still have a little strength left for one last Netherflame."
Too exhausted to open his eyes, Phaga managed a faint, bitter smile.
In his hand, the Kunmutu flickered—its surface glowing faintly as a tiny crimson flame burned stubbornly at its core.