"Is the Thunder Swordsman dead? There's no way he's still alive, right?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Even steel would be crushed by an attack like that. And with that heat, he'd burn to death even if the impact didn't kill him."
"S-so that's the power of an Admiral? Incredible."
The ground Fujitora had struck was now a pit too deep to see the bottom.
Around its rim, every plant had burned to ash, leaving a charred smell in the air. The heat had even turned the soil to glass.
"No one could survive that attack. Uncle Issho has won."
Domino felt a rush of relief. The bastard who had caused her so much pain was dead.
"Really? You have a lot of faith in Fujitora."
A man's voice came from behind Domino. At first, she thought it belonged to one of the Marines.
"Of course. Uncle Issho is incredibly strong. He's—"
The voice suddenly struck Domino as familiar. Her body went rigid, and she slowly turned her head.
Before she could look back, something tapped the back of her neck. Her vision went dark.
That familiar sensation filled Domino with terror. Tears spilled from her eyes before she lost consciousness.
Werther stood behind her, carrying her over his shoulder. The Marines around him had all collapsed.
His recent practice had paid off. He could now control his Conqueror's Haki, at least roughly.
Werther was in bad shape, though. Small wounds covered his body, and blood kept trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Fujitora had nearly killed him moments ago. If Werther hadn't paralyzed him at the last instant and weakened the pull from the ground, he might never have escaped.
Fujitora was still catching his breath after unleashing Fire Festival when he sensed a sight that made his blood boil.