Their positions, the rhythm of their breathing, even where their gazes fell subtly echoed one another.
Their conviction to protect their homeland formed an invisible net, utterly unlike the chaos of pirates fighting each for themselves.
Two figures stood at the head of the formation.
The man in the same deep-red cape stood ramrod straight, like a statue cast in bronze.
That was Kyros.
Beside him, another figure wearing a sky-blue cape was encased in silvery armor.
King Riku was in his prime. Were he thrown into that vast and dangerous sea, his strength should barely reach "a hundred million,"
the threshold by which powerful fighters were measured.
And their opponents-
"Please turn your attention this way! What you see now are members of the Shichibukai's Family!"
Compared with the uniform military formation opposite them, exuding iron and blood, this side looked like a gathering pieced together from different times and places.
The crisp fabric of suits stood beside the soft texture of casual clothes; leather straps on hunting outfits brushed the flowing hems of short robes; the folds of long dresses and an extravagant feather coat made for a chaotic picture.
At first glance, they looked more like wealthy young people who had set off traveling on a whim than people who had fought life-and-death battles.
At least, that was what most ordinary spectators in the stands thought.
But those in the crowd who had truly weathered storms had already narrowed their eyes, alarm bells ringing within them.
The brighter the clothing, the more dangerous the fangs often were.
On a battlefield of flying projectiles and flashing blades, distinctive clothing served only one purpose-to become the most conspicuous target for every attack.
The two feather coats worn by the pair in the lead, so lavish they hurt the eyes,