The instant they collided, Dragon's expression changed.
It wasn't that Black Mask's strength exceeded his expectations. Rather, he keenly sensed that a considerable amount of the Armament Haki on his hands had been drained in an instant.
He immediately unleashed a burst of force to knock Black Mask back, then lowered his head to look at his hands, which had already lost their black coating. His expression grew slightly grave.
His Body Arts are nothing special, but this Devil Fruit ability really is troublesome.
In that case, I can't fight him at close range.
With that thought, Dragon willed the turbulent air currents into motion again.
Countless densely packed wind blades, capable of shredding iron blocks into powder, howled toward Black Mask.
Black Mask's expression darkened at the sight.
This is why I hate Logias!
The wind blades didn't just attack Black Mask. They swept up all the masked men.
Randall found resisting the wind blades quite taxing, too.
Not because he couldn't withstand them, but because they genuinely posed no threat to him. He had to deliberately control his defenses to let them leave wounds on his body.
While "struggling to resist," Randall kept an eye on his surroundings.
He discovered that their primary target, White Mask, had stayed far away ever since the battle began, never approaching at all.
Randall cursed inwardly. If this guy won't come over, how am I supposed to get him?
Then he recalled how Dragon had deflected his Qi Wave earlier, and an idea suddenly struck him.
"You little bastard! Your life is mine!"
Randall suddenly shouted, forcibly charged through layer after layer of wind blades, spraying sheets of blood through the air, then rushed toward Dragon.
Dragon froze. Why is this guy suddenly trying so hard?
But when he focused his gaze,