Kage Asgard (Shadow Asgard)!
Moria's mightiest Kage Kage no Mi (Shadow-Shadow Fruit) technique.
He recalled every shadow under his control, fusing their power into his own body—swelling larger and larger until raw strength flooded his limbs.
Stuff a thousand, even eight hundred shadows into him, and he could shatter this island with a single punch!
Suddenly the whole island dimmed. Countless black threads lashed outward, ripping the shadows from every zombie. Those aware their end was near spat curses through chattering teeth.
Moria ballooned like a bellows.
"100!"
"200!"
"500!"
"1000!"
In mere seconds he had grown to a giant rivaling Oars, black smoke hissing off his frame.
"This surging, invincible power—how intoxicating!"
He gazed at his hands, drunk on the torrent raging through his body.
"Fools! You let me finish my strongest art? You look down on Moria far too much! I'll make you regret it!"
His crimson eyes snapped to Creed's crew—and he slammed a fist down.
Rumble—
Cracks spider-webbed across the ground. The remaining buildings caved in. Seawater foamed up through fresh wounds in the earth.
Creed sighed. "Why is the demo move always 'destroy your own ship'…"
But the shockwave never reached them. Falkor and the giant bat were already in front.
One beat its wings—gales roared up, batting aside screaming stone and splinters.
The other's body blazed with lightning, weaving a high-voltage net that cindered anything that dared approach.
Creed's pupils narrowed. Falkor's command of lightning—stronger again.
At this point, it was hardly inferior to his own.
Heaven help him—how long had it even been? The growth was obscene.
If anyone looked like destiny's chosen, it was that little terror.
A prodigy that made others feel small.
Someday, a King of Storms, riding the skies.
"Kage Tsuno Yari (Shadow Horn Spear)!"
Moria struck—dense shadow surged from beneath his feet, condensing into a titanic spear that lunged for Creed with blistering speed.
That move had one-shot Little Oars Jr.
"Eee-eee!"
Bottled up for too long, Falkor couldn't hold back. It opened its jaws and unleashed a torrent—Rairyū no Ibuki (Thunder Dragon's Breath)—straight into the charging spear.
If you want my master, get through me first!
Boom!
The abyssal spear and blazing breath collided—night and noon split the island in two, black on one side, searing white on the other.
"Hahahaha! You puny thing—watch me swat—wha—what?!" Moria's jeer curdled.
Zzzla—pip-pop—KA-RUMBLE!
Falkor's breath began as a sheet of crackling light—then swelled on the wind, ballooning a hundred, a thousandfold, a thunder-mad sea that crashed down and swallowed Moria mid-curse.
Sizzle—crackle—boom—
Creed, Redfield, and the others stared at the charred wasteland ahead. Lightning still crawled across blackened stone; the air stank of ozone. It took them a few heartbeats to come back to themselves.
Terrifying.
Not only had Moria been flattened, but the far side of the castle grounds had been scoured into the sea. Only broken planks bobbed where land had been.
Moria could "punch an island to pieces."
Falkor had just "erased" one in a single blast.
"Yay!"
"Gulu, gulu!"
The giant bat was first to snap out of it, flitting over to high-five Falkor with a leathery wing. Then it scampered off to butter it up with praise—Falkor's delighted "eee-eee" trills rang out.
At last it swooped to Creed to claim credit and earned two squares of herb cake, which it promptly split with Falkor, tails—well, wings—wagging.
"Lord Moria!"
Perona spotted Moria drifting facedown on the waves, charred and still. She forgot the seastone cuffs on her wrists and dove without thinking.
He'd taken her in as a child—half a father in her heart. In this state, how could she think of herself?
Splash.
She hit the water and immediately started gulping seawater.
"ROOM."
Creed crooked a finger and lifted them both with the Ope Ope no Mi (Operation-Operation Fruit), setting them on solid ground.
Moria was still breathing, but badly hurt. Revived by the cool air, he coughed awake.
"Ptuh!"
In the next instant Creed pinched with two fingers. Moria's heart, sheathed in translucent gel, came free into his palm; the seastone cuffs clicked off Perona's wrists.
Seeing the jelly-wrapped heart—and the square gap where his own heart should be—Moria went white. "You devil—w-what did you do? Did you take my heart?!"
"The Ope Ope no Mi… I know you now—you're Creed, the Navy traitor!" he blurted.
The mists around this sea kept News Coo away; news came slow. Only now did he put a name to the terror in front of him.
Regret knifed through him. If he'd known it was this reaper, he'd have sailed the other way without a second thought.
"Ah—!"
Pain lanced his chest as Creed gave the heart a gentle squeeze. The words "Navy traitor" had rubbed him the wrong way.
"Please, spare Lord Moria—whatever you want, I'll do it!" Perona knelt, pleading. Soaked head to toe, clothes clinging to soft curves, eyes shining with panic—pitiful enough to tug at any heart.
"Serve under me," Creed said, eyes on Moria. "Pledge your strength to mine."
"Impossible! I'm a man who'll be Pirate King. I won't bow to anyone."
Hard-headed to the last.
"You coveted my shadow. I'm sparing your life and only asking for your fealty. That's mercy." Creed's voice cooled. "I'll ask once more."
(End of Chapter)
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