"It looks like I'll have to get serious!" Ronglin hung in midair, flexing his limbs as he let power flow into every corner of his body, preparing to adjust himself to peak condition.
The Marine fleet below was in complete disarray, scattered by his wave of Tempest Kick: Snow Scene. Although no warships had been sunk, they had still been caused no small amount of trouble.
Meanwhile, the Star Alliance's Fourth Fleet had continued making the most of the time to flee. Even if the Marines regrouped and gave chase now, there was an eighty to ninety percent chance they would be unable to catch up.
Only then did Ronglin finally breathe a slight sigh of relief, able to devote himself fully to the battle before him.
After all, Fujitora alone was not someone he could casually deal with, and there were still two more eager to come up and help!
Impossible-to-Comprehend Strength!
"Were you playing around just now?" Fujitora's expression instantly stiffened. He had already gone all out, pushing his Devil Fruit ability to its limits. Their brief clash had even left him showing signs of fatigue, yet this guy was saying he was only now preparing to get serious. Fujitora was utterly shocked.
As he spoke, Fujitora brought his broken sword together and rose lightly into the air, rushing toward Ronglin with a swirling current of air behind him. Transparent ripples spread around Fujitora, gradually gathering and wrapping around him from four directions to form a force field, intending to trap Ronglin inside as well.
"Again?" Ronglin clenched both fists, then crossed his hands. The surrounding air trembled as violent power surged forth. Armament Haki wrapped around and hardened his arms, and a blinding beam of white light blasted from between his hands in an instant.
**"Six Styles