The Sword That Defied Swordsmanship

The dust had not yet settled.

Luffy's sword had already left everyone's jaws on the floor.

He gripped the divine weapon, taller than he was.

He swung it around three times like a club.

Golden-white flames traced a warped circle.

Then he brought the sword down.

The massive blade slammed into Imu's arm.

Boom!

The air was crushed.

A shockwave spread outward.

Floating rocks within a hundred meters were ground to dust.

Even the distant ice floes cracked.

No one could tell what kind of swordsmanship this was.

It was not swordsmanship at all.

One moment, Luffy used the massive blade like a mallet.

The next, he flicked his wrist.

The tip thrust out from an impossible angle.

His arm stretched nearly ten meters.

The blade curved around in a bizarre arc.

It stabbed straight toward Imu's blind spot.

The thrust flashed like a line of gold.

Sword light wrapped in white flame shrieked through the air.

There was no technique to it.

Yet every blow landed like a mountain.

Every allied fighter still standing on the battlefield looked up.

They stared blankly at the glittering golden figure in the sky.

Their weapons nearly slipped from their hands.

They had never seen anyone swing an ancient divine weapon like a toy.

Much less unleash law-level destruction with every strike.

Imu narrowed those scarlet eyes.

Imu was waiting.

Luffy swept the massive blade sideways, and its momentum spun him halfway around in midair.

His swing had run its course, and he had yet to gather strength for another.

Only a fraction of a second.

That was enough.

Dark energy gathered between Imu's hands, forming a rapidly spinning sphere.

Dense demonic energy warped the light.

With a cold snort, Imu thrust both hands forward.

The dark energy became dozens of pitch-black rays.