Warship Island, the central battlefield lay in ruins.
The suffocating bloody smell still lingered in the air. Scalding Dragon Blood splashed across the rocks, hissing as it burned.
Ronan stood before the collapsed Thousand-Year Dragon King, though the Zhangba Iron Spear was no longer in his hand.
Yet the newly awakened Armament Haki coiling around his right fist like black currents gave off an even more dangerous aura than any sharp blade.
"It's over."
Ronan lowered his eyelids, his killing intent settled.
To a warrior pursuing the limits of the human body, the dying Thousand-Year Dragon King before him was no longer a living creature, but a priceless walking "great medicine."
Just as he prepared to bring down the Collapsing Fist that would end its life—
"Hm?"
Ronan's brow suddenly furrowed.
Within the Observation Haki he had just tempered tenfold, now sharpened to the utmost limit—
An extremely faint yet remarkably distinct presence was rushing into this Asura Field like a moth to a flame.
That presence was weak, as weak as a child with no strength at all.
Yet strangely, the surrounding Thousand-Year Dragons, which had been restless and violent, eager to tear apart every intruder—
fell eerily silent the instant they sensed that presence. They even retracted their claws and fangs, opening a path for it.
"Don't—!!!"
A shrill, tearful cry pierced through the clamor of the battlefield.
Ronan slowly withdrew his fist and looked up.
Through the smoke and dust of the ruins, a little girl in ethnic clothing came rushing out, her short golden hair flying.
She stumbled as she ran, her face streaked with tears, one of her shoes already lost.
Her fair foot had been cut bloody by sharp stones, yet she seemed unable to feel the pain.
With both arms spread wide, she