However.
Faced with a pressure terrifying enough to throw Yami Tsukahara into panic, Mihawk advanced instead of retreating.
[Clang—!]
With the crisp sound of a sharp blade leaving its sheath, he drew the Black Blade, Night, from his back in a reverse grip.
In that instant, surging Conqueror's Haki mixed with the razor-sharp sword will of a Great Swordsman
and erupted from Mihawk's body like a volcano.
A black-and-red aura, threaded with crackling lightning and ghostly green light, formed around Mihawk into a tangible energy barrier like an inverted jade bowl.
It stubbornly resisted the Sword Saint's pressure pouring down like Mount Tai crushing the roof.
[Crack, crack, crack, crack—]
Two forces, one strong and one weak, collided violently.
The vast reception hall groaned as if it could no longer bear the strain.
Web-like cracks began spreading across the hard bluestone floor, the thick walls, and even the ceiling overhead, as though everything was about to fall apart.
But as a Sword Saint, Shiki's control over his own domain had long since reached perfection. Since he did not want to cause a huge disturbance, a single thought was enough.
The vast golden aura became like walls of bronze and iron, confining every collision within the reception hall.
At the same time, it reinforced the surrounding structure, preventing even the slightest aftermath from leaking outside.
Because of that, Yami Tsukahara, standing outside the door, was not affected.
This ninety-year-old kendo grandmaster
now stared wide-eyed at the wondrous scene before him as if on a pilgrimage.
He saw Mihawk and the green aura enveloping him surrounded within a golden domain like a vast ocean, his teeth clenched as he struggled to hold on.
"So this is the Sword Saint realm? Saint Mihawk can actually endure it?"
Stormy waves surged through Yami Tsukahara's