Sword glints flashed, and droplets of blood flew. Dragon was wounded again.
Dragon looked wretched. His dark green coat hung in tatters, and wounds covered his body.
There were at least a hundred cuts. Bone showed through more than a dozen of them, and Werther had severed several bones outright.
Anyone else might have lost the strength to fight, but Dragon was tenacious.
By now, Dragon no longer dared take a direct hit from Werther's sword.
The lightning-wreathed blade had left Dragon with one impression: it was sharp. Anything it touched was cut apart.
Wind Spears, Armament Haki, bone, even his hardened Dragon Claws—the blade could cut through them all.
All Dragon could do now was dodge, and he did it desperately.
The swordsmanship Werther sought had begun to take shape: a blade that cut through everything and struck such fear into his enemies that they dared not meet it head-on.
"Secret Sword: Tsubame Gaeshi!"
Three slashes appeared before Dragon at the same instant. He instinctively tried to dodge, but they were too fast.
Slash!
Pieces of a severed arm scattered across the ground. Dragon's injured arm had been cut off completely, and a wound across his abdomen had nearly sliced him in two.
After using Tsubame Gaeshi, Werther appeared behind Dragon. His attack was not over.
"Secret Sword: Blood Sparrow!"
A crimson slash swept toward the back of Dragon's neck.
"Dragon Scales!"
Dense scales spread across Dragon's back, but they could not stop Werther's blade.
Slash! Another cut split open the back of Dragon's neck, exposing his pale spine.
Werther appeared in front of him.
"Secret Sword—"
Werther was about to strike when a Den Den Mushi suddenly rang on his person.
If it had been the one in his pocket watch, he would have ignored it. But this