"Black Iron Saints? What are those?" Mycenae said he had never heard that name in his life. Steel Saints, sure—he'd heard of them, but as far as Mycenae was concerned, he could take on a thousand of those machine-reliant "Saints" by himself.
Thinking that, a rare trace of contempt rose in Mycenae's heart.
"Heh, Nidhogg, you're getting looked down on. Hahahaha." The people who'd come with the Black Iron Phoenix started jeering and laughing.
Nidhogg, formerly one of the Dark Saints—the Dark Phoenix—was the leader of countless Dark Phoenixes. In the original story, he was one of the overlooked geniuses who dared challenge Ikki's authority and learned the Light-Speed Punch from the Sanctuary, much like Wang Hu. But due to plot needs, the Dark Phoenix leader ultimately fell to Ikki's iron fists.
The Dark Phoenix standing before Mycenae and the others now, however, was nothing like that original tragic version. After special training under Musashi, Meruem, and others, he had become a Seventh Sense warrior. Like the Dark Four Heavenly Kings, he was one of the rare geniuses on all of Death Queen Island, a fighter who rose above millions of Black Iron Saints. Now he was not only entrusted by Meruem with the vital role of assassin chief of the Black Iron Saints, but also the main person responsible for this probe into the "Little Sanctuary."
The Black Iron Cloth he wore was also made by Meruem. At the very least, in terms of design it looked far sturdier than the "Gold Cloth" on Mycenae that resembled a tight plastic shell.
"Hmph. Some knockoff trash. Not even as good as the Dark Phoenix under my command…" As one of the intel operatives personally selected by Meruem, Nidhogg naturally didn't have the same reckless temperament as the Five Bronze Boys. Instead, he wanted to provoke them and draw information out.
You could say that the group originally planned to lurk around the "Little Sanctuary" and investigate. But after spotting Mycenae and his team, they weighed things up and decided they could take them—so they chose to squeeze some real details about the "Little Sanctuary" out of their mouths.
He could sense that the other man's Cosmo was at least that of a Seventh Sense fighter, no weaker than himself. As for the two other guys in knockoff Gold Cloths beside him, they were still a step below this "Gold Leo."
"Arrogant nonsense. The fake Sanctuary sent you few—are you here to die?" Mycenae, who called himself a Gold Saint "with the fangs of the king of beasts and the loftiest pride," spoke with utter disdain.
Even so, his gaze stayed on Nidhogg. At minimum, Mycenae sensed a hint of threat from him. "He's mine. You handle the remaining Silver Saints."
The unquestionable tone made the expressions on Nidhogg's side turn ugly.
You think we're just a dish because we're not roaring?
"Yes." The three Silver Saints quickly assumed fighting stances.
"Wait… Mycenae, how about you leave this one to me?" Just as Mycenae was about to attack, Schiller raised a hand to stop him.
Schiller, eager to show off in front of Sonia, couldn't possibly resist such a perfect chance. Black Iron Saints? What were those? Schiller had no intention of believing that, wearing a Gold Cloth, he could lose to some unheard-of kind of Saint.
To him, this was a personal stage handed to him by the heavens.
"Leave these fools who came seeking death to me, Cancer Schiller. Let them see the terror of the Underworld. I'll use Netherworld Withering!"
A blue, water-attribute Cosmo rushed straight at Nidhogg.
An idiot who can't even compare strength, Nidhogg thought to himself.
"You all take care of those so-called Silvers. I'll show these so-called knockoff Golds what the real Saints are made of." Nidhogg didn't take the attack seriously at all and instead gave orders to his subordinates.
Schiller's face turned painfully ugly. How dare you ignore me, a Gold Saint? Go repent in the Underworld! He increased his Cosmo output, doubling the power of his water-attribute move.
"That's why I'm asking—what's the point of your so-called attribute Cosmo? Deep Black Phoenix Cry!" Nidhogg's raised fist easily tore Schiller's incoming technique to shreds. The move that supposedly "sent people to the Underworld" didn't affect Nidhogg in the slightest.
"I once had the fortune of witnessing the Sekishiki Meikaiha of two great Lords of Cancer from the Sanctuary. At your level, you dare call yourself a Gold Saint?"
"You're outright profaning the name of Cancer. If this is all you've got, then in the next moment I'll send you to the afterlife."
Black Iron Phoenix Nidhogg's current strength was even greater than Deathmask's during the original Twelve Temples arc. Schiller, whose real level had only just reached the Seventh Sense, wasn't much in front of him.
And on top of that, there was that so-called attribute Cosmo—what a joke, pure pointless overcomplication.
"I am the lord of death and creation, and you dare look down on me."
The deep mockery in Nidhogg's eyes drove Schiller's rage to the absolute limit.
At this moment, Schiller didn't care about flattering Sonia anymore. He had only one goal now: kill the other man, drain his Cosmo, and turn it into nourishment for his own immortality. That was his purpose as a "Gold Saint."
The Gold Saints in Omega were a truly bizarre new-era phenomenon. Their lineup could be called the most "intoxicating" in history. Aside from a handful, most were basically designed as villain bosses from the start—traitor principal types, yandere sisters, an Aquarius with no highlights who stole other people's time, and this death-obsessed pervert chasing a longer life, among others.
"I'll let you experience what fear really is!" Schiller suddenly smiled at Nidhogg, then snapped his fingers hard. Countless coffins slowly rose from beneath the ground.
"Sekishiki Coffin."
When the coffins opened, even Mycenae—Schiller's supposed companion—had anger flash through his eyes.
They were all Saints turned into zombie-like corpses. This man had actually used fellow Saints as experimental material.
"And you call yourself a Saint?" As Schiller kept bragging about his "masterpiece" in front of him, Nidhogg not only felt no fear, he looked at Schiller with a kind of pity—like a god looking down at him.
"I'm no saint myself, but let me be the one to wipe out scum like you!"
"Black Phoenix Wing Rise!"
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