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Perospero narrowed his eyes. Syrup seeped from between his fingers again, winding like a river toward another dragon.
Smoothie drew a deep breath, white mist spilling between her teeth. When she raised her enormous sword again, a layer of frost had formed over the blade.
Her gaze swept across the battlefield-the figures fleeing desperately from dragon breath and trampling Giants, the blood-soaked rubble, the colossal creatures still roaring as they fought.
As her blade split open the third dragon's chest, she said quietly, "Time to end this."
She was not speaking to anyone, merely stating a fact.
Like a blade slicing through flesh, like syrup hardening into iron, like this battle whose outcome had long been decided-everything was simply an inevitability unfolding in order.
Syrup instantly engulfed the flying dragon's head, hardening into a spiked instrument of torture.
The spikes pierced inward through its scales, churning the contents of its skull to pulp.
Its enormous body plummeted straight down.
"Protect Smoothie!"
Numerous books floated beside the white-haired Giant.
Their pages rustled, their covers flapping like wings as they provided aerial footholds for the Charlotte Family.
The boy wielding this ability had an odd build: a thin upper body, thick lower limbs, and excessively long arms and legs.
Beneath hair like a tangle of straw was a pale, elongated face with a long, pointed red nose.
He wore a dark bodysuit patterned with a skeleton.
Charlotte Mont-d'Or, the Family's nineteenth son.
The Book-Book Fruit allowed him to imprison people within pages, construct worlds inside books, and send flocks of books flying.
This ability had always been considered a fit for someone pulling strings behind the scenes.
"Of course we will."
A tall, thin woman stepped across the flying books and intercepted a dragon.
The slender blade in her hand, White