"Rise!"
At Lin Xuan's low command, two standard-issue Marine swords lying on the deck jumped up on their own.
Clang! Clang!
Two bursts of sparks exploded beside Lin Xuan's neck.
Onigumo's sword tips punched notches into the two swords serving as makeshift shields, but the lethal strike was deflected half an inch, grazing Lin Xuan's earlobe and drawing a string of blood droplets.
Before Lin Xuan even felt the pain, he moved with the force of the block.
Rather than retreat, he spun wildly with that momentum like a madman.
The Asauchi in his hand became the axis of his spin, while the fourth sword, pulled by threads of Spiritual Pressure, skimmed along the deck like a venomous snake, slashing up at Onigumo's lower body from a vicious angle.
A trace of astonishment finally appeared on Onigumo's usually expressionless face.
He could tell that the brat's swordsmanship followed no system whatsoever. It was as chaotic as a street thug's brawling.
Yet his grasp of the rhythm of combat was frighteningly keen.
"Hmph!"
Onigumo snorted. The long hair behind his head tapped nimbly against the deck like tentacles, launching him into the air just in time to dodge the underhanded slash at his groin.
But Lin Xuan had accounted for that too.
"I'm not done yet!"
The golden light in Lin Xuan's eyes blazed brighter. Like a top that would not stop spinning, he used his rotational momentum to send the fifth sword right after him.
This sword made no attempt at a sneak attack. It charged straight in with a gale that tore through the air!
This reckless way of fighting gave his opponent no chance to breathe.
Suspended in midair with nothing to push off, Onigumo could only meet it head-on with the saber held in his hair.
Another tremendous crash rang out. The brute force sent Onigumo drifting backward, and he crushed a section of the deck beneath his feet when he landed.
Before he could steady himself, the sixth and seventh swords arrived.
Guided by threads of Spiritual Pressure, the two swords traced impossible arcs. One stabbed diagonally beneath his left ribs, while the other went straight for the back of his head.
"Damn brat! What kind of swordsmanship is this nonsense?!"
Onigumo finally lost his temper.
As a master of orthodox swordsmanship and the Six Powers, being hounded by this mad-dog fighting style felt like an insult.
His arms and the six locks of hair behind him whirled furiously, forming a wall of blades around him.
Clang, clang, clang!
A dense series of collisions rang out.
The two flying swords Lin Xuan forcibly controlled with Spiritual Pressure ultimately could not match genuine Haki and strength. They were knocked away at once, clattering onto the distant deck with their blades bent.
With that, Lin Xuan had exhausted all the "flying swords" around him.
The two swords used to block had broken, the one aimed at the groin had flown away, and the final two had been knocked aside.
He stood there alone, with only the black Asauchi left in his hand. His chest heaved; that explosive assault had clearly consumed a considerable amount of stamina.
The tightly strung battle seemed to reveal an opening at that moment.
"Hahahaha!"
Onigumo glanced at the scrap metal scattered across the deck, undisguised triumph and savagery on his face.
His gaze turned contemptuous again, as though he were looking at a beast that had already run out of strength.
"Is that your limit? Cheap little tricks like these will never amount to anything."
Onigumo slowly raised the two swords in his hands. The locks of hair behind him rose high like spider legs, their eight sword tips cutting off every route of escape for Lin Xuan.
"You used seven swords, and now you have one left in your hand."
Onigumo's lips curled into a cruel grin, his voice sounding like a sentence being passed. "But against my Eight-Sword Style, one sword fewer is the difference between life and death. You made a fatal mistake-the moment you run out of weapons is the moment your life ends."
The air over the deck seemed to freeze.
In the distance, Zoro stared fixedly at the battlefield, cold sweat trickling down his forehead.
Out of swords?
No... that lunatic's eyes don't show the slightest intention of losing.
Everyone's gaze focused on Lin Xuan, searching for his hidden eighth sword.
Was it hidden in his sleeve?
Or in his boot?
But there was nothing anywhere.
Under everyone's watchful eyes, Lin Xuan suddenly lowered his head.
His shoulders began to tremble. A low chuckle rose from his throat, eventually turning into laughter that made their scalps crawl.
"A mistake? One sword fewer?"
Lin Xuan abruptly raised his head. The fighting spirit in his eyes burned fiercer and wilder than before, like a beast that had broken every chain.
He grinned, exposing a row of stark white teeth, his expression filled with bloodthirsty pleasure.
"Who told you a sword had to be made of iron?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Lin Xuan moved.
Instead of retreating, he hurled himself like a cannonball straight into Onigumo's sword formation.
In that instant, he felt as though a beast crazed with hunger was crashing straight into him.
Before Onigumo could react, he saw Lin Xuan's face growing larger before him, along with something smashing toward his forehead-
A forehead.
It was the hardest bone in the human body, and the most unreasonable, most savage "eighth sword" in Kenpachi Zaraki's style.
Thud!
A muffled sound of bone colliding with steel.
Onigumo instinctively crossed his swords to block.
But the sabers in his hands actually snapped on the spot under that headbutt.
Crack!
The broken blades flew away, slicing Onigumo's face.
But that was only the beginning.
Lin Xuan's strike involved more than the hardness of his forehead. It was a concentrated burst of all his strength and Spiritual Pressure.
The recoil made Lin Xuan feel as though his brains were sloshing around, and stars swam before his eyes, but his grin only widened.
Pain? That's right.
Only pain can prove I'm still alive, still biting into my prey.
The immense force traveled along the broken blades and slammed squarely into Onigumo's chest.
Although the six hair arms behind the Marine Vice Admiral instinctively closed together to block, they were as brittle as dry twigs before that absolute impact.
There was no stalemate whatsoever.
Onigumo flew backward like a kicked ball, both feet leaving the deck.
Crash!
Wood splinters scattered and dust billowed.
Onigumo's towering body slammed into the cabin behind him, smashing a human-shaped hole through the thick wooden wall.
A chaotic series of crashing tables and toppling chairs followed, ending with a dull thump-the sound of a body hitting the floor.
The world seemed to fall silent all at once.
On the deck, the sea breeze scattered the wood chips and dust.
The perpetually grim-faced Marine Vice Admiral now lay sprawled miserably amid the wreckage, his face covered in blood.
One of his arms was twisted at an odd angle, evidently broken by the impact when he tried to protect his chest.
The long hair he took such pride in was tangled into a mess, with fragments of broken blades caught inside.
"Guh... urgh..."
Onigumo opened his mouth, trying to say something, but all that surged up was a mouthful of blood mixed with fragments of internal organs.
His gaze began to lose focus. Beyond the pain in his pupils, there was even more bewildered disbelief.
I lost?
To a sixteen-year-old brat whose swordsmanship was a complete mess, who ended up hitting people with his head?
The absurdity of it made him forget even the agonizing pain of his broken arm.
Meanwhile, at the other end of the deck.
"Hiss-still a little dizzy after all."
Lin Xuan shook his head and reached up to feel his forehead.
A large lump had swollen there, but it did nothing to diminish his exhilaration.
The surrounding Marine soldiers were all dumbstruck. Some did not even notice their muskets clattering to the deck.
They no longer looked at Lin Xuan as a wanted criminal, but as a monster wearing human skin.
Lin Xuan ignored those terrified stares.
Now, as the adrenaline slowly receded, a drained weakness washed over him, along with a craving for something to drink.
At a time like this, something seemed to be missing.
His gaze swept over Onigumo's fallen sword beside his feet, and he unconsciously licked his slightly dry lips. His eyes moved past the shattered cabin, and he seemed to catch a hint of rich liquor in the air.
Chapter 34: Flattening a Vice Admiral with One Headbutt, and This Is the Reward?
That faint, rich aroma was no illusion.
During the impact, some unlucky soul's liquor flask had shattered in his arms.
Lin Xuan was not picky. With a casual wave of his hand, the somewhat indistinct Reishi short blades hovering in midair turned into ghostly blue motes and slipped into the space between his brows.
Then, as though performing a magic trick, Lin Xuan reached back and pulled an unopened bottle of rum out of thin air.
With a pop, he bit out the cork and casually spat it onto the deck strewn with wood chips.
Lin Xuan tilted his head back and gulped down a great mouthful.
The fiery liquid burned its way into his stomach, dispelling the hollow feeling of physical exhaustion and suppressing the throbbing pain of the lump on his forehead.
"Hah!"
He exhaled a hot breath laden with alcohol, then tossed the half-empty bottle toward the figure in the wreckage.
"Catch! Consider it my thanks."
The bottle traced a parabola through the air.
Amid the wreckage, a large, bloodstained hand reached out shakily and caught the bottle securely.
Onigumo leaned against the broken cabin wall. His Vice Admiral's coat was now tattered and covered in dust and blood.
He glanced at the liquor in his hand, then at the boy standing in the sunlight, carelessly wiping his mouth. The expression on his sinister face grew complicated.
His opponent had neither taken the opportunity to finish him off nor subjected him to a victor's humiliation.
The satisfaction in his opponent's eyes was pure, even a little innocent, like a diner who had just finished a feast.
"Your thanks, huh..."
Onigumo gave a bitter chuckle, jostling his broken ribs and making the corners of his eyes twitch with pain.
Before you continue