The energy of the mutant, which had been surging moments ago, began to retract. This was what they had been waiting for—the mutant had started its breakthrough.
Time to make their move.
Kyoji came to this conclusion as he turned toward Frederick, only to witness a bizarre scene.
The young man seemed visibly shaken, but that wasn't what caught Kyoji's attention. It was what the young man was humming a tone he recognized... Lullaby.
Frederick turned his eyes toward Kyoji, noticing the look on his face.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing. Just… I've never seen a grown man sing a lullaby to himself—especially not before a battle," Kyoji responded.
"Shut up," Frederick growled, his face turning red as he realized his mistake.
Lullabies had always calmed him as a kid, and even as he grew, the habit stuck. It was his way of reducing stress, a private method of calming his nerves—one he never let anyone know about out of embarrassment.
But with the panic gripping him at this moment, his muscle memory had kicked in. Without realizing it, he had started humming. And now, Kyoji had caught him in the act.
Frederick felt a deep sense of shame.
Kyoji, however, didn't seem to care. He had simply not expected such an act from someone like Frederick. Nothing more.
But it clearly mattered a lot to Frederick, so…
"You don't have to worry. This will be our little secret, and I won't make fun of you for it," Kyoji reassured him.
Frederick let out a quiet sigh of relief. He wasn't sure what would have happened if this had gotten out. And for some reason, he trusted Kyoji's words.
"Now get going. Just distract the mutant long enough for me to land an attack," Kyoji added.
Frederick nodded, taking a deep breath. He gripped his sword with both hands, steadied his nerves, and stepped out from behind the massive piece debris. Without hesitation, he moved toward the mutant in the distance.
As he advanced, the mutant immediately took notice of him. Its eyes locked onto him, following his every move.
Frederick shivered under the weight of its gaze. But there was no turning back now.
The mutant kept its focus on him, unmoving. It was too deep into its breakthrough to react immediately. Otherwise, it would have already crushed this insignificant human who dared to approach.
It let out a low growl—a warning. A chance for Frederick to reconsider his decision.
But Frederick didn't stop.
The mutant's growl turned into a loud, rumbling roar, its irritation growing. Yet Frederick only paused for a brief moment—just enough to steel his nerves—before charging straight toward the mutant.
Kyoji, still hidden behind the debris, observed the scene carefully. Then, with a slight nod, he approved of what he saw.
Frederick had done his job.
Of course, he wasn't engaging the mutant in close combat. Even though it was immobilized due to its breakthrough, its tentacles were still active. Frederick knew better than to get too close. Instead, he stayed just at the edge of their range, weaving in and out in a dangerous dance, keeping the mutant's attention locked onto him.
With Frederick holding the distraction, Kyoji didn't waste time. Instead of approaching the fight, he turned and retraced his steps back to where they had come from.
He needed to prepare.
Earlier, when he had used Crimson Arsenal, he had felt its toll.
Not due to a lack of energy—but because the attack required his own blood to form. Blood loss had weakened him.
Now, in order for his next attack to work—to disrupt the mutant's breakthrough—he needed an even greater amount of blood.
His own blood wasn't an option.
So, he was going back to extract blood from the corpses of dead mutants.
He hadn't done it earlier because he didn't want to reveal this ability to Frederick. But now that Frederick was busy, he could proceed without issue.
---
Kyoji made his way back, his steps neither too hurried nor too slow—just normal.
Most of the mutant corpses were gone, consumed by the Dominator Mutant to fuel its breakthrough. However, their blood still remained, pooling across the ground—more than enough for what he needed.
Without hesitation, Kyoji moved toward a particularly large pool of blood, most likely belonging to a beast now resting inside the belly of the Dominator Mutant.
For a brief moment, the blood resisted, as if reluctant to obey. Then, finally, it began to pulse, responding to his control.
With a single gesture, the blood, as if gaining a life of its own, lifted from the ground and floated toward him.
Kyoji could feel an unparalleled sense of control over it—like he could shape it into whatever he wished.
He barely registered the odd sensation as he clenched his fist, and the floating blood followed suit, shaping into a fist in response.
It was a strange, almost disorienting feeling. He wanted to test it further, to see what else he could do with it. But now was not the time for curiosity. He had a task to complete—gather more blood. The experiments would have to wait.
It wasn't difficult to do so. With so much blood scattered around, collecting enough for his plan didn't take long.
Kyoji observed the swirling mass of dark mutant blood hovering near him. Transporting it like this would be inconvenient. He needed a better way to store and carry blood.
In the future, if he had to rely on this ability in battle, he had to find a method to store blood efficiently. He couldn't just walk around with a floating blob of blood beside him. But that was a problem for another time.
Shifting his focus back to the present, Kyoji started heading back. Even from halfway there, he could already hear the frustrated growls of the mutant—a sign that Frederick was still keeping it occupied. Good.
Now, all that remained was for him to wait for the perfect moment to strike. As he arrived, he quickly ducked behind cover, using the broken walls and debris scattered across the battlefield to stay hidden. Carefully, he moved closer, ensuring not to alert the mutant.
The plan was simple: get close enough, then strike when the opportunity presented itself, aiming for the mutant's eyes.
The eyes were the weakest part of the body—for both Chosen and mutants alike.
They were likely the only part of the body that didn't reinforce or harden as they grew stronger, remaining as delicate as ever.
Of course, there were special cases among the Chosen—those who cultivated unique eye techniques to strengthen their vision and unlock special eye-related abilities. But such cases were rare. For mutants, there was nothing like that. That was why Kyoji had to aim for the eyes.
Anything else would be like pouring water on a rock. The mutant's level was far beyond his own, and even his most powerful attack wouldn't leave a scratch on its hardened body. That left the eyes as his only viable target.
Under normal circumstances, had the mutant not been undergoing a breakthrough, even this strategy wouldn't work. Its energy would reinforce every part of its body, including its eyes, making them impenetrable. But now, with all of its energy retracted to aid its evolution, its eyes were left vulnerable.
The mutant, unaware of the approaching danger, focused entirely on breaking through while simultaneously keeping the little human from disrupting it.
Frederick, meanwhile, was already nearing his limit.
As planned, he hadn't faced any real danger. He was merely dancing on the edge of the mutant's tentacle range—far enough to avoid serious harm but close enough to keep it occupied.
But even with that, he still had to exert himself. Weaving through the tentacles, dodging and retreating, was exhausting. One single mistake and—voila—he'd be reduced to nothing but meat paste.
He knew he couldn't hold out much longer.
'Where is he? Why hasn't he made a move yet?' Frederick couldn't help but wonder. He was reaching his limit.
Kyoji, however, had just spotted his chance.
Time to make his move.