"Alchemy?"
"Yes. No one expected Admiral Sand Crocodile to specialize in alchemy as a secondary discipline—and to have reached such a high level."
"Look at the red lightning he's releasing."
"That's Alchemical Lightning, something only high-level Alchemists can master."
"They say it can disintegrate any substance from a distance."
"How do you know that?"
"My wife's younger brother studies at the Alchemy Academy in Academy City."
"I see."
As the observing officers discussed it among themselves,
an astonishing scene suddenly appeared on the large screen showing the bird's-eye view.
Centered on Crocodile and Loki, who were locked in fierce battle,
white lines began to spread across the entire continent as though it were a canvas.
They gradually formed an incomparably grand and elaborate pattern.
It contained countless complex geometric shapes, ancient runes, rigorous formulas, and lines representing the flow of energy.
Because the area was simply too vast, Loki clearly noticed nothing.
He remained immersed in his frenzied battle with Crocodile.
More than an hour later, before everyone's eyes,
the enormous transmutation circle, covering an unknown number of square kilometers, was finally complete.
The white lines suddenly blazed with dazzling red light.
"National Transmutation Circle."
"Activate!"
The next second, Crocodile's cold voice entered Loki's ears like the judgment of a god.
The transmutation circle's crimson radiance shot into the sky.
Together with the ten rampaging Sand Tornadoes, it formed a continent-scale energy cage.
"Urrraaaagh—!"
Loki suddenly let out a pained, furious roar.
He could feel the power he had always taken pride in—the Haki as vast as the sea—being worn away through some bizarre means.
The aura that had climbed to its peak began plummeting as rapidly as a deflating balloon.
But Loki had no idea what was happening.
Crocodile said nothing. He merely sneered coldly and maintained his offensive.