200
Before her sigh had faded into the air, her laughter erupted-mad, shrill, laced with a tremor that tore at reason.
"You thought these few wounds would be enough to finish me?"
At their level, techniques had long since lost their meaning.
The plainest slash, the most direct thrust, instead became the slender balance between life and death.
Any killing move that required gathering power meant that heaven and earth would change color.
Imu slowly brought her palms together.
Her movements were slow, slow enough to make out the path of every inch of skin, yet the space around her began to twist and collapse, as though her palms were swallowing the entire world.
Then layer upon layer of azure light spilled between her fingers. Within that light, countless raging oceans seemed to have been folded together, their waves crashing wildly through compressed dimensions.
In the distance, Garp's back suddenly stiffened.
Although his Observation Haki could not sense that figure's existence, the warning rising from deep within his marrow was sharp enough to pierce reason.
He grabbed Tsuru beside him and stamped down, shooting backward like a cannonball.
Sengoku was a moment slower and could only grit his teeth and follow.
The other spectators had not detected the specific danger, but seeing those two retreat at speed, they instinctively flew farther away as well.
They had originally stood a thousand meters away, believing that distance safe, never imagining that the light in Imu's hands was redefining the scale of "destruction"
itself.
Crack, crack, crack-
That was the sound of the fabric of space being forcibly split apart.
Imu gently pushed the twisted mass of azure in her palms forward.
The light, compressed to its utmost limit, abruptly expanded.
Space tore apart without a sound, spreading as swiftly as ink dropped