But Bloodhound seemed to understand. All three heads turned toward her at once, their open mouths filled not with fangs, but with densely packed spears formed from blood.
The instant the ice spikes collided with the blood spears, the entire space filled with interwoven fragments of white and red.
Rossi narrowed his eyes amid the flying ice and blood droplets and saw Katakuri's trident finally tear open a path, its tip aimed straight at the bulge on the giant hound's back that kept producing human figures.
Now.
He stepped forward, reversed his blade, and slammed its hilt against the ground.
It was not an attack, but a signal.
Tani's dragon tail suddenly swept in from another direction, not to strike, but to scoop up the rubble and ice scattered across the ground and send it hurtling toward the resurrected figures like a miniature blizzard.
The instant their vision was obscured, Katakuri's trident plunged into the bulge.
Bloodhound let out a silent wail-if it could be called a wail.
Every figure emerging from its body froze at once, then slumped like melting wax figures and flowed back into the giant hound's enormous body.
The brawny man on its back tried to shrink back into the blood, but Katakuri twisted his trident and levered half his body out.
Rossi's blade arrived.
With an upward slash, a gray line swept across the man's chest.
There was no scream, only the faint sound of something breaking, like a dry twig snapping underfoot.
The man turned into a puddle of ordinary blood and spilled down.
Bloodhound's remaining two heads drooped, its movements noticeably slower.
"It's not over yet."
Katakuri flicked the filthy blood from his trident and looked toward the giant hound's belly.
The blood there was churning violently, as though something larger was about