He lowered his body and slammed his right fist into the first blade.
The blade shattered.
Following through, he stepped sideways between the second and third men, smashing his elbow into one man's temple and shattering the armor over the other's abdomen with his knee.
The fourth man swung his blade at his neck.
Lorne raised his left hand and clamped it around the blade.
Armament Haki tore a bloody gash across his palm.
The knight roared, "Let go! You can't hold it! This blade is infused with Advanced Armament Haki!"
Lorne tightened his five fingers, and the long blade snapped in two.
He grabbed the knight's head and dragged him down, smashing him against the ice.
Once.
Twice.
On the third impact, the knight's helmet shattered completely.
"Who's next?"
He was covered in blood, his breathing heavy.
Taking the gunfire and chains head-on in rapid succession had begun to slow his recovery, but Grit still surged within him.
Every wound, every slash, every bullet packed more power into his fists.
The remaining Candidate Knights looked at the corpses on the ground, their legs beginning to retreat involuntarily.
"The worse his injuries, the stronger he gets! The intelligence never made that clear!"
"Keeping this up will only build up his strength! Saint Garling has already lost the ability to fight!"
"Fall back to the supply ships! Send word to Mary Geoise and request deployment of the Official Knights!"
At the mention of "supply ships," Lorne turned toward the bay.
Beyond the fractured ice, three white ships were trying to turn around.
Their decks were piled with medicine crates, weapon crates, Seastone nets, and chests of gold.
Several white-robed soldiers were desperately hacking through the mooring lines.
"Get moving! The Candidate Knights can't stop Lorne!"
"Bring Saint Garling back! The supplies