Golden Light Above the Clouds

Half a day later.

Above the White Sea.

The clouds, once soft as cotton, had been torn full of holes.

Great stretches of the White Sea had collapsed, exposing layer upon layer of churning cloud currents.

The port was half destroyed.

The square had cracked apart.

The air still smelled scorched from the lightning blasts, and the pressure left by the clash of Haki had yet to fade completely.

The Roger Pirates had chosen to retreat.

Not because they had lost, but because there was no reason to keep fighting to the bitter end.

First.

This was Zephyr's home ground, and Rock was clearly involved behind the scenes.

Fighting on would only drag them into a more complicated situation.

Second.

Roger's body could no longer withstand a prolonged clash at full strength.

That last Divine Departure had been a burst of power he had practically forced out of himself.

His presence had weakened noticeably after the explosion. Pushing on would be too risky.

Rayleigh and Gaban knew it. Roger knew it too.

The Oro Jackson turned, cutting across the White Sea toward Shandora, where Gan Fall had first directed them.

Wind swept past the sails. The crew remained on guard, but they had begun an orderly withdrawal from the battle.

At the edge of the port, Oden, drenched in blood, was still struggling.

"Bastard—!"

"I'm not done fighting that guy yet—!!!"

His twin blades whirled wildly.

Blade flashes slashed in every direction, making even the air shriek.

A vein throbbed on Gaban's forehead.

If they didn't leave now, this guy really would tear down the entire port.

He simply grabbed Oden around the waist and hauled him up.

"We're leaving!!"

"Nothing good will come of fighting any longer!!"

Oden kept cursing. "That familiar lightning—!"

"What the hell is your connection