"This guy's hand-to-hand combat skills are pretty terrible," Brook couldn't help but remark. Zatmoro's previous sword strike hadn't put much pressure on him at all. Zatmoro's Devil Fruit ability was so overwhelmingly powerful and bizarre that he over-relied on it, leading to his physical combat skills being rather mediocre. This was a common flaw among other powerful Devil Fruit users as well.
The nightmare space suddenly roiled and churned. The surrounding area began to spin, as did the ground beneath their feet, rapidly transforming into a swirling swamp that threatened to drag both of them down.
Moria lifted his foot, coated it in Armament Haki, and stomped down hard on the rotating swamp. However, he only managed to clear a small area, and then the swirling morass began to swallow them even faster.
"Brook, quickly destroy his dreamscape!" Moria said gravely.
"I'll have to use the third movement, 'Grief Soul Song'! Quick, earplugs, cover your ears!"
Hearing this, Moria hastily put in his earplugs and clamped his large hands tightly over his ears. Brook immediately put away his sword cane and once again picked up his violin. A powerful, stirring melody instantly filled the air. This time, the music was intense, like a raging sea, its waves of sound relentlessly spreading throughout the entire nightmare space.
"Underworld Revolution Tune: Third Movement - Grief Soul Song!"
The moment the music began, Moria's expression turned ugly, his large face contorting in pain. At the same time, a figure tumbled out of the darkness. It was Zatmoro. His face was also twisted in agony. He hurriedly clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the music just like Moria. But it had little effect; the melody still seeped into his mind, making his soul tremble in pain.
"I've covered my ears too! Why is the music still reaching my mind?!" Zatmoro's face was distorted with suffering.
Brook scoffed. "My 'Grief Soul Song' isn't just an area-of-effect attack. I can lock onto your soul. It's just that my ability isn't strong enough yet to only target a specific person." Brook's "Grief Soul Song" could indeed target an individual, but due to his current lack of fine control, it would also affect others nearby. However, the primary target would bear the brunt of the attack's damage. Moreover, the music could lock onto an individual's soul and attack it directly; covering one's ears would only slightly weaken its effect.
The pain was excruciating, soul-tearing. Zatmoro writhed on the ground. Simultaneously, the dreamscape he had created suddenly became unstable. The ground, the sky – countless cracks appeared, through which white light and the sounds of battle from the real world seeped in.
Zatmoro lay prone, his face extremely unsightly. With a savage expression, he pushed his ability, forcing the crumbling nightmare world to mend itself. The entire nightmare space began to rotate, and long, several-meter-thick spikes shot out from all directions, rocketing towards Brook like meteors.
Brook, seemingly oblivious, continued to play his "Grief Soul Song." Moria swung his giant scissors, unleashing powerful slashes that flew out and severed the incoming spikes, steadfastly protecting Brook.
A torrent of spikes continued to rain down, but after two volleys, Zatmoro let out a bloodcurdling scream. All the spikes dissipated, and the entire nightmare space once again fractured with innumerable cracks, then exploded with a resounding bang!
Moria and Brook found themselves back in reality.
Under the assault of the "Grief Soul Song," Zatmoro couldn't spare the focus to maintain his nightmare space, leading to its collapse. Brook's vibrant Soul Fire had dimmed considerably; the "Grief Soul Song" had taken a significant toll on him as well.
"Well done, Brook! Leave the rest to me!" Moria cackled, hefting his scissors and charging Zatmoro, aiming a slash at his legs.
Zatmoro gritted his teeth and swiftly dodged, but the other scissor blade instantly swung around, cleanly severing both of Zatmoro's legs.
"Kishishishi! Without your nightmare space, you're just trash!" Moria snorted coldly.
However, the next moment, Moria's eyes widened. Zatmoro's severed legs didn't bleed. Instead, they twisted and then reconnected to his body as if they had never been cut off at all.
Zatmoro gasped for breath, his gloomy eyes glinting with a chilling light. "My abilities are beyond your imagination. I can transform myself into a dream at any time. What you cut was merely the me in the dreamscape. The real me sustained no injuries."
"I don't believe you!" Moria roared, swinging his scissors again. Zatmoro's expression changed, and he quickly dodged the attack.
"Aren't you unafraid of being cut? Why are you dodging?" Moria bellowed.
Zatmoro's face was grim. Black light erupted from his body, and his entire form rapidly changed, transforming from a withered old man into a massive, powerfully built, green-faced, tusked demon. A black light shot from his hand, coalescing into a giant black sword. CLANG! The black sword blocked Moria's scissors. He had withstood Moria's attack, much to Moria's disbelief.
"My nightmare world doesn't just affect others; it can also be used on myself! When the me from the dream fuses with the me from reality, I gain immense power!" Zatmoro grinned ferociously. "See this? This is the power of the Illusory Dream Fruit!"
"Then let me see just how powerful you really are!" Moria's expression remained unchanged. He suddenly exerted force, pushing Zatmoro back. Then, he swallowed another shadow ball, his body swelling in size once more. He charged Zatmoro, his scissors slashing through the air, moving too fast for anyone to dodge.
Zatmoro gritted his teeth and raised his sword to block. The earth boomed and shattered. Under the ferocious force, the ground beneath Zatmoro's feet caved in, his legs sinking into the earth like iron pillars. Moria brought his scissors down in another heavy chop, driving Zatmoro further into the ground until half his body was buried.
Then, the shadows beneath Moria's feet danced, transforming into numerous Shadow Horn Spears that instantly riddled Zatmoro's body, turning him into a pincushion. Afterward, Zatmoro's body began to distort, dissolving into black light before reforming a short distance away. Zatmoro panted heavily.
"I told you, your attacks are useless against me."
"I don't believe it!" Moria, his face expressionless, charged Zatmoro again. His scissors became a blur, creating a dense curtain of blades that enveloped Zatmoro, while Shadow Horn Spears launched surprise attacks from unexpected angles. Zatmoro, by fusing with his dream self, had gained tremendous power, but Moria, using his Shadow Asgard, also possessed astonishing strength. In terms of raw power, Moria still had the upper hand.
Zatmoro, whose hand-to-hand combat was inherently his weak point, was no match for Moria. On average, after parrying three or four attacks, he would be hit, his body severed. Yet, Zatmoro repeatedly avoided Moria's attacks by transforming himself into a dream state.
After being cut four or five times in a row, Zatmoro was gasping heavily for air, his movements becoming increasingly sluggish, lacking their previous agility.
"You can indeed transform yourself into a dream to nullify any attack, but that ability must consume a massive amount of stamina, right? How many more times can you use it now?" Moria had noticed this issue after hitting Zatmoro just once or twice.