Drawn and Quartered Again!

After that last strike, Zoro nearly lost his footing and dropped to one knee on a massive tree branch.

Chopper had made the tree grow.

That last attack had drained most of Zoro's strength.

He panted heavily.

He needed a moment to recover.

He clenched Wado Ichimonji between his teeth.

His grip was just strong enough.

The hilt did not slip.

But Zoro's gaze had already pierced the cloud of black crystal dust.

He stared thirty meters away.

Saint Killingham knelt on the ice field.

Air whistled through his enormous body.

Three gashes in his chest spewed white mist.

Black blood poured out.

The hairs on Zoro's neck stood up.

His gaze locked on the figure ahead.

Something stirred inside the gashes.

Dark red demonic energy writhed violently.

Thin strands emerged from the edges of the shattered armor.

They streamed back into the deepest wound in his chest.

The wound was healing.

Zoro's pupils contracted.

He knew how troublesome the Celestial Dragons' healing ability could be.

Killingham's severed arm was slowly growing back, too.

He could not let Killingham regain the strength to fight.

His gaze shifted to Saint Killingham's right hand.

That palm was rising.

Its five fingers curled inward.

They reached for the deepest wound in his chest.

Once his hand pressed down,

dark red demonic energy would surge back in.

His healing would accelerate twofold.

Saint Killingham raised his head.

The eye in his ruined half-face focused again.

His face twitched.

The cornered Celestial Dragon

was making one last gamble.

His fingers trembled.

Closer.

Closer.

His fingertips touched the edge of the wound in his chest.

At that very instant,

Zoro moved.

He poured his remaining strength into his legs.

His body shot forward like a cannonball.

He launched himself into the air.

His momentum carried him