He had said there were three layers, but there were actually only two upright stone slabs. The third layer Loa meant was the ceiling over the great hall.
Faced with Loa's monstrous strength, the enormous slab—one that could only be called a miracle—flew away as if it were a sheet of cardboard.
It was like lifting a lid, exposing the hall that held the Poneglyph to the sunlight.
Inside, Cobra and Robin, who had thought they were as good as dead, felt their pupils contract. They held their breath and stared in terror at Loa above them.
That slab weighed hundreds of tons!
Plenty of people might have been able to punch through it, but to send it flying like that...
Cobra watched Loa's wings beat slowly at his sides. He blinked and managed a few words. "Are you... a Gods?"
Loa was no Gods, of course. What kind of Gods wore a Marine coat? The levelheaded Robin quickly regained her composure, but when she made out his face, she sucked in a breath. "Christopher Loa!"
"Hey, were you two waiting to die together? Sorry to interrupt!"
Standing on a stone pillar, Loa peered down with a grin. Then his expression sharpened, and he said to Cobra, "But you can't die yet. Someone needs to stop this war."
His words jolted Cobra into action. "Right, the war! I have to stop it!"
Ignoring the pain, he struggled to his feet. He looked at the Marine coat behind Loa and asked hesitantly, "Sir, what's happening outside?"
"Well..."
Loa glanced back at the Rebel Army, which had reached the city walls, and reassured Cobra. "The Rebel Army has arrived. They're fighting the defenders on the walls, but it looks like the defenders can hold out a little longer."
Cobra breathed a sigh