The sun rose again.
The third day passed.
Crack!
The air within a hundred meters shattered like a mirror, as an abyssal, boundless force of destruction swept through it, unmatched.
A series of bone-chilling cracks rang out as Chaos streaked away like a shooting star, rolling across the ground in agony. He carved a deep trench before coming to a stop at its end, battered and bruised.
He looked utterly wretched, as if he'd been hollowed out. Gravely ill, he lay sprawled on the ground, blood pouring from every orifice.
He picked the most arrogant fights and took the most brutal beatings!
It was terrifying.
Across from him, in the smoke and flames of the explosion, Whitebeard's broad chest was also slick with blood, but he still stood firm.
His towering presence, like a mountain, stood in stark contrast to Chaos.
Chaos pushed himself up with both hands. He nearly collapsed several times. His entire body felt like it no longer belonged to him, and the helplessness was suffocating, like he was drowning.
He couldn't stop coughing up blood.
He'd lost.
His stamina was at its limit, too.
Time to make a quick getaway.
Otherwise, he really would be left behind to become someone's son.
Chaos wasn't surprised by this outcome. He'd known what to expect even before the fight began.
Still...
He couldn't help feeling a little unwilling to accept it.
He'd thrown everything he had at Whitebeard, from the Gold-Gold Fruit to his physical combat skills, but he still couldn't gain much of an advantage.
Edward Newgate and Golden Lion truly were ceiling-level monsters. Chaos still had a ways to go.
"Thunder Bagua!"
The ground within a meter of his feet turned to gold, and a spiked club rose from it into his hand. Chaos roared as if