It was too late-he turned sideways and drove his right shoulder forward.
The dull impact sounded less like metal striking metal than the mingled roar of two collapsing cliffs.
A blast of air erupted around them.
The planks beneath their feet first buckled, then splintered and curled upward.
The hull groaned under the strain. An invisible force pressed a circular depression into the surrounding sea, pushing a wall of waves outward.
Neither man retreated.
Laughter rang out from behind the black mask, hoarse and exhilarated. "Now this is a fight!"
There was none of the sinister chill supposedly characteristic of Cipher Pol Aigis Zero in that voice. Instead, he sounded like a drunk in a tavern getting carried away.
The masked man gave him no chance to breathe. His fists were already a blur, every blow heavy enough to flatten steel, raining down on Vergo's chest, shoulders, and flanks.
Vergo did not dodge.
A flowing layer of black spread across his skin, like molten iron solidifying over his body.
Fists landed against it with dull, pounding thuds, like war drums beating at close range.
He, too, stepped forward, his black fists tearing through the air toward his opponent's mask, throat, and heart.
No blocking. No dodging.
They were close enough to smell the mingled sweat and rust on each other.
The impacts of fists against flesh merged into one continuous roar as the ship beneath their feet kept breaking apart under their savage exchange.
Elsewhere-
A bright silver arc sliced through the drifting wood chips and smoke.
It was not a blade, but a palm.
The white-masked Cipher Pol Aigis Zero agent swung his arm down. A visibly sharp current of air gathered along the edge of his hand, neatly slicing the air in two as it passed.
The strike