69novels Chapter 266 Appearance, One Strike Is Enough
Chapter 266 Appearance, One Strike Is Enough
Chapter 266 A Hundred Appearances, One Strike Is Enough
At the entrance to the abyss, the battle has reached its climax.
Zoro's three-sword style whipped up a tornado that clashed with Hassan's short blade in black robes. The clang of metal was mostly swallowed by the sea, but the surging shockwaves caused the surrounding seawater to churn endlessly.
Hassan, clad in black, moved with ghostly speed, often defying the laws of physics to turn and advance at the last second, his short blade aimed at vital points with ruthless cunning.
Zoro used offense as defense, his sword strikes were wide and sweeping, carrying the determination to cut down everything, but faced with this close-quarters assassination technique, he was unable to gain an overwhelming advantage for a time.
"Annoying flies!" Zoro roared, and a faint ghostly aura began to emanate from his body.
"Three-Sword Style: Demon Slash!" The sword light transformed into a chilling ghostly shadow, its speed and power increasing dramatically, forcing Hassan in black robes to retreat and temporarily evade for the first time.
On the other hand, the clash between Sanji's Diable Jambe and Hassan's Poison Claw was even more dangerous.
Those dark blue venomous claws were not only sharp, but also carried a deadly poison that could even corrode seawater, creating fine bubbles. Sanji dared not let his legs come into direct contact with them, and could only maneuver around them at high speed.
His eyes were sharp as an eagle's, capturing every subtle flaw in the other person's movements.
"Poison is by no means a glorious means!" Sanji dodged a venom spray that grazed past him, turned around and aimed a mutton SHOT kick at his opponent's ribs, but the opponent slid it away with a boneless movement.
"Your method of using poison as your sole means of combat is utterly despicable!"
Hassan the Poison Claw let out a silent hiss, its attacks growing increasingly frenzied, as if enraged.
The battle between Kojiro and Knife Hassan was more like a silent dance of death.
Both were masters of technique; their movements were subtle yet precise and deadly.
Throwing knives shot out from all sorts of incredible angles like ghosts, their poisoned blades gleaming blue in the dim phosphorescence.
Kojiro's dried meat scalding transformed into a continuous curtain of light, sometimes gently deflecting like willow branches brushing water, and sometimes stabbing back like a venomous snake spitting its tongue.
His brows furrowed slightly, because the opponent's fighting style gave him a vague sense of eerie familiarity.
"So that's how it is. Your skills originated from the mountains, but have been tainted by dust."
Kojiro suddenly spoke, his voice carrying a faint sigh through the water.
"Abandoning the awareness of direct confrontation and pursuing only concealment and poisoning has deviated from the original meaning of swords and assassination."
Hassan paused slightly, his eyes behind the white mask seeming to flicker for a moment, but then his attack became even more ferocious. Several throwing knives formed a triangular shape to block Kojiro's retreat, while he pounced forward, his fingers flashing with cold light.
"Your shadow is nothing but fleeting vanity," Kojiro suddenly hissed.
The object in his hand suddenly accelerated, the blade light seemingly predicting the trajectory of all the throwing knives, drawing an arc like an antelope's horns.
"Secret Sword - Swallow Return!"
scoff!
As the blade flashed, Hassan, the man with the white mask, froze abruptly, and a smooth cut appeared from his shoulder to his waist!
The figure dissipated like smoke, eventually turning into specks of spiritual energy and vanishing.
"Take one down!" Chopper couldn't help but shout from beside the medical pod, his eyes gleaming with hope.
Zoro and Sanji were also energized and launched an even fiercer attack.
It seems that these assassins are not invincible in direct combat!
However, this glimmer of hope only lasted for a few seconds.
The instant the flying knife clone dissipated, the entire spherical space came to life.
The shadows of the surrounding rock walls, the crevices of the coral, and even every dark spot in the seawater that the light could not reach seemed to undulate and churn.
Immediately afterwards, one, two, ten, twenty—a dense array of figures in various poses silently appeared!
Some of them wielded sharp blades, some wore poisonous claws on their fingers, some were hunched over, some were lithe and agile, and some even resembled children and the elderly.
The only thing they had in common was that they all wore the same chilling white skull mask!
There were more than 30 people, completely surrounding the edge of the rock face, a dark mass like a tide of death.
Chopper was dumbfounded: "How is this possible? More than 30? Are they all Heroic Spirits?!"
A cold, oppressive, and despairing killing intent pressed in like tangible seawater.
The morale that had just improved slightly after Kojiro killed one of his clones was instantly crushed by this overwhelming numerical advantage.
"How—how could there be so many?!" Chopper was so shocked he almost collapsed.
Zoro and Sanji stood back to back, cold sweat dripping from their foreheads.
Kojiro gripped his long sword tightly, his sharp eyes scanning the dozens of figures.
Even with his abilities, he couldn't immediately discern what methods the other party had used.
"It's no use—" A slightly hoarse female voice with a strange echo came from among the many clones, the source of which could not be determined.
"I am all things, and all things are me. The withering of a single shadow is meaningless. This place, this moment, is your abyss of burial."
The moment the voice fell, dozens of Hassan's clones moved simultaneously!
There were no shouts of killing, only the faint hiss of a sharp blade cutting through the water, and the sweet, pungent smell of venom spreading!
The attacks came from all directions, from the sky and underwater, covering all areas where you could dodge!
Desperate situation!
"Three-Sword Style: Three Thousand Worlds!" Zoro roared, unleashing his strongest slash to date, but it only cleared a small area in front of him.
"Diable Jambe - Hell Memories!" Sanji spun around and kicked wildly, the flames temporarily forcing back several people, but more figures filled the gap.
Kojiro's sword flashed like a curtain, protecting one side of the medical pod, but he was still struggling to defend himself.
Chopper jumped into the bubble to protect Luffy, tears streaming down his face.
The defense line was on the verge of collapse.
But then a loud shout rang out: "Fishman Karate - Secret Technique - Martial Arts!"
A gap suddenly appeared in the rock wall above and to the side, and Jinbe's huge figure rushed out first, followed by a huge bubble that contained Robin and Shirahoshi!
"Luffy! Everyone!" Jinbe saw the fierce battle and his eyes widened in fury.
Shirahoshi's gaze, however, was firmly drawn to the abyss entrance and the mountain-like shadows, and fear gripped her once more.
But even stronger was the call from the warm wave emanating from the depths of the abyss, and—a chilling premonition that a cold sensation was rapidly approaching that wave!
"Lord Noah—something bad is approaching!" Shirahoshi cried out.
Her voice seemed to resonate with the sleeping will of Noah in the abyss below.
The massive, warm wave trembled very slightly.
The tremor was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake.
The first to react were the ancient sea kings that were guarding the area.
Their massive, languidly swimming bodies paused simultaneously, and several pairs of enormous eyes, like small lakes, slowly turned toward the chaotic battle at the entrance and the direction where Bai Xing was located.
An indescribable, ancient pressure began to permeate the air.
Almost instantly, all the dark assassins transformed into afterimages, their cold blades hurtling towards Bai Xing.
Just then, the shadow that had been standing quietly beside Brooke, as if it were merely a decorative backdrop, moved.
No, it's not movement, it's existence itself that has been redefined.
King Hassan slowly took a step forward.
Just one step.
In the midst of the noisy, chaotic, and murderous battlefield, time seemed to have been paused.
It wasn't physical stillness, but rather the stillness of all living beings, including the dozens of assassins.
This step quietly awakens the most primal fear in the depths of one's soul—the fear of the end itself.
This fear amplifies as the sound approaches, causing a significant halt in movement.
The seawater ceased to surge, the sword light froze in mid-air, and the poisonous fog stopped spreading.
Everyone's gaze was involuntarily drawn to the figure dressed in an old, dark robe, who seemed to have stepped out of the ancient concept of death.
He stood there, so abrupt, yet so natural, as if he was meant to be there, as if his arrival was the only inevitable end to this chaos.
Brooke stared at King Hassan with his empty eye sockets, his fingers unconsciously tightening around his staff and sword.
He could feel the faint connection between his Yomi Yomi no Mi (Fruit of the Underworld) and the world of death, flowing like a stream into the ocean, resonating violently and trembling before the boundless sense of annihilation emanating from King Hassan.
The dozens of assassins froze in unison, their gazes beneath the skull masks all fixed on King Hassan.
It was a mixture of horror, disbelief, and—a deep-seated awe.
The next moment, all of Hassan's clones, regardless of what they had been doing before, bowed slightly in unison.
Everyone lowered their heads, which were covered by skull masks.
Their movements were stiff, yet they carried an unquestionable reverence stemming from tradition and rank.
In the dead silence, the hoarse female voice rang out again, but this time, the voice no longer carried the previous arrogance. Instead, it was filled with a difficult and complex emotion. The source was still impossible to pinpoint, but it seemed to represent the common will of all the clones.
"The First Lord—no—the Old Man of the Mountain—the Primal Death—we—have disturbed you here."
The title was "First Generation Master," and the tone was one of reverence.
King Hassan's bottomless hood slowly swept over the dozens of respectful yet still rebellious and strangely murderous figures.
The voice resonated directly in the other's soul, containing no anger, only an extremely calm statement: "Deviating from the teachings of the One, indulging in a hundred delusions."
"What you seek is not the cleansing of the night, but the sowing of fear."
"What you are doing is not a correction by God, but self-gratification."
Every word was like a cold chisel, striking the very foundation of someone's existence.
Their heads drooped even lower, and their bodies began to tremble slightly. It wasn't fear, but rather the intense conflict and turmoil that arose when their beliefs were rebuked by the source.
The one trembling the most was the woman with the purple ponytail.
The woman's voice responded with a struggle, still echoing.
"We—follow the guidance of the Azur people—follow your guidance—therefore we dare to speak presumptuously—"
"Times have changed—only by embracing all faces and spreading the death of equality—can we—"
"Yazrael".
King Hassan quietly uttered the name, his gaze beneath the hood seemingly sweeping over the spirit origin distorted by ideology.
That timeless silence descended once more, but this time, it contained not indifference, but a profound scrutiny.
"Death is neither a tool nor an end, but an end, a correction."
His voice rang out again, colder and clearer than before.
"Abuse its form to spread unnecessary fear; defile its essence to inflict unwarranted suffering; exaggerate its appearance to pursue a false existence —"
"This is not practicing death, this is blaspheming the end itself."
"What you speak of is nothing but fear disguised as equality, the self-forgiveness of those incapable of wielding a blade with precision."
For the first time, Wang Hassan's voice showed a fluctuation that resembled a sigh.
"Youthful confusion—this immature body—has become your excuse for turning away."
The message contained in those words sent a shockwave through Zoro, Sanji, and the others who were listening in!
Azrael? An immature body? The confusion of youth?
"Could it be that the terrifying heroic spirit summoned by Lucci and this one—are from the same origin but different periods?" This is the second warning: Death is a precept, not a toy. To abuse its form is blasphemy.
Wang Hassan interrupted the other party's explanation, his calm voice suddenly turning cold.
"These errors — should be corrected."
The moment the word "correction" was uttered, Wang Hassan raised his hand.
There was no earth-shattering burst of power, no dazzling light; he simply slashed at the dozens of assassins in the void with an extremely simple gesture.
There was no visible flash of blades or sword energy.
But everyone who witnessed this scene, whether it was the Straw Hat crew, Kojiro, Jinbe, or the assassins, felt as if their souls had been sliced through by a line.
That line is the boundary between existence and end, the trajectory where errors are erased.
Puff, puff, puff, puff, puff ———
A series of faint, almost inaudible sounds, like bubbles bursting, rang out.
In front of the trajectory of Wang Hassan's raised hand and slashed down, more than thirty assassins in various poses, exuding murderous intent, sprayed blood from their necks one after another.
Like a pencil drawing erased by an eraser, they all collapsed from head to toe, without warning and in an orderly fashion.
There were no screams, no struggles, not even a trace of spiritual light; it simply vanished cleanly into the deep sea, as if it had never existed.
A single strike, and the field was wiped out.
Only one figure remained, standing alone in the vast expanse of sea.
She was a tall woman with a purple ponytail.
She also wore a skull mask, but her aura was noticeably more solid and profound than those of her clones.
She was slightly hunched over, one hand supporting her forehead, her body trembling violently, as if enduring immense pain and a profound shock to her soul.
Her eyes, hidden beneath her mask and peering through her fingers, were fixed on King Hassan, her gaze filled with unspeakable shock and fear.
Of course, there was still a sliver of rebellious flame that refused to be completely extinguished.
Wang Hassan lowered his hand, his bottomless hood gazing at her, and his hoarse voice rang out again.
"I see—that's enough. Go back and inform Azrael—and your Lord of Summoning."
"The commandment of death is not to be trifled with. The matter here is not yet settled."
Having said that, he stopped looking at the Hundred-Faced Form standing frozen in place, slowly turned around, and just as he had come, retreated back into the shadows beside Brook, as if he had once again become an unchanging backdrop.
Only then did the terrifying pressure, which felt like time and space were frozen, suddenly disappear.
The seawater began to flow again, and the sound returned to my ears.
Everyone, including Jinbe and the newly arrived Robin and Shirahoshi, seemed to have woken up from the deepest nightmare, panting heavily and drenched in cold sweat.
They looked around at the empty space, then at the lonely, seemingly lost purple-haired woman Hassan, and finally turned their gaze, filled with utmost awe, to the hooded figure beside Brooke who had returned to silence.
A knife.
Just one action.
Dozens of powerful and elusive assassins were annihilated.
Only the original body remained, disheveled and trembling in the silent winds of death.
Although I had expected it—I still can't help but sigh.
Is this the power of the first assassin? Is this the true form of the heroic spirit summoned by Brook?