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.