For the longest time, the Sorcerer—wielder of the Mirror-Mirror Fruit—had been a long-range powerhouse, a veritable "artillery turret" whose output was off the charts.
He was exceptionally skilled at large-scale group warfare and clearing out massive waves of fodder.
After developing the ability known as Mirror Image Fusion, Sherlock's single-target lethality underwent a qualitative transformation. His ultimate trump card, God-Slaying Spear: Gungnir, possessed such terrifying power that it could blast a great pirate with a bounty of nearly 100 million into dust with a single strike—no, it would leave absolutely nothing behind.
Furthermore, with the assistance of the forbidden drug Insamona, Sherlock's endurance in prolonged combat had been bolstered. Combined with his Mirror Reflection, which could reflect all incoming external attacks, the Sorcerer was practically invincible among average pirates. His defense was even more baffling than the elementalization of Logia-type users.
Despite all this, Sherlock still had a short board: close-quarters combat.
The enemies he feared most were those "physical monsters"—martial arts masters with freakish physical attributes and incredible speed. Once such an enemy closed the distance, Sherlock would become little more than a giant sandbag, falling completely into a passive state.
But now...
If Armament Haki was akin to a layer of "invisible armor," then this five-fold fused heavy plate, Black Knight: Berserker, was Sherlock's own unique version of "Armament."
Well, excluding the part about being able to hit Logia users.
Under the enhancement of this armor, his speed and strength received massive boosts. Combined with Observation Haki and the ability of multiple Mirror Reflections to exponentially increase his attack intensity, Sherlock's melee capabilities had made a sudden, qualitative leap!
It was just that the first enemy he encountered in a melee happened to be a bit of a freak...
Under the light of the setting sun, a set of heavy knight's armor—seething with black energy from head to toe—was locked in a fierce clash with a towering, muscular brute. The air erupted with explosive pops as their fists and feet collided, a testament to the sheer force behind every blow.
The battlefield had shifted quite a distance, leaving a trail of wreckage in its wake.
Under the influence of the shockwaves from these two agents of destruction, this "vacation resort" in the eyes of many outlaws would likely become history forever in just a short while.
Among the carnage, the Sorcerer's endless supply of mirrored weapons was the primary contributor to the devastation.
"You coward! If you've got the guts, strip off that scrap metal and fight me one-on-one!"
Burgess narrowly dodged a flurry of cold shots from the side and swung his hand to bat away a massive knight's greatsword. With a roar, he drove his elbow violently toward the pitch-black armor in front of him.
However, this heavy-handed elbow strike did not achieve the desired result. Instead, it passed directly through the armor as if striking thin air.
—Ghostly Shadows.
The illusion used to deceive the enemy slowly dissipated. Suddenly, the armor—its eyes glowing with an eerie red light—emerged behind Burgess's back. Simultaneously, it threw a punch toward the Fighting Champion's spine. Beneath the chilling wind of the fist, ripples faintly pulsed in the space around the black gauntlet.
—Reflection Punch!
However, having suffered several hidden losses earlier, Burgess reacted as if he had eyes in the back of his head. He forcibly twisted his body like a spinning top; his nimble movements stood in sharp contrast to his hulking physique.
"I knew it was another illusion! Coward!"
The muscles in his right arm bulged to an exaggerated degree, showcasing explosive power. Burgess swung his arm with force, meeting the black armored fist with his elbow, intending to meet power with power.
—Vibration Elbow!
The distance between the fist and the elbow instantly shrank to zero.
BOOM!!
An explosion like muffled summer thunder roared. A visible shockwave scattered in all directions. Under this clash of absolute strength, the hard ground instantly cracked and buckled, collapsing into a massive crater.
Swoosh—
A figure flew backward like a cannonball, smashing an exaggeratedly large hole through a tall building in the distance.
"Hiss... that hurts..."
Burgess crawled out from the pile of rubble in a pathetic state. Wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, his face was filled with horror. He truly hadn't expected that he would actually lose in a contest of raw strength against the Sorcerer.
How did the force of his punch suddenly become so terrifying? And that black armor is just too much of a cheat.
After all, one man's fist was made of iron, while the other's was made of flesh; the two were naturally incomparable.
Yet, before the Fighting Champion could have a moment to breathe, several high-explosive mirrored shells flew in through the hole he had smashed. In an instant, as if by some dark sorcery, they expanded several sizes.
"Damn it..." Burgess's expression suddenly became extremely distorted.
BOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!
Flames surged and rubble flew. The violent explosions instantly tore the house and its surrounding buildings to shreds. The terrifying shockwaves hurled fragments of the structure far, far away.
Standing atop a pile of ruins not far from the explosion, Sherlock stood in his pitch-black armor, various mirrored weapons floating around him. He looked down at the right arm of his armor, which had been completely shattered into fragments, and a look of shock flashed in his eyes.
(Is this guy a monster? How can his physical toughness be this perverted? I'm afraid a simple Mirror Reflection is useless against that kind of brute force.)
Clenching his slightly numb right hand, Sherlock's eyes narrowed. The power of the opponent's elbow strike just now was truly daunting. If it weren't for the protection of the five-fold fused armor, his right hand would likely be far more than just "numb" right now.
(And even with the enhancement of this armor, I am completely outmatched by this guy in close-quarters combat. I can only use hit-and-run tactics. While the power of the Reflection Punch boosted by multiple Mirror Reflections is decent, it requires time to prepare.)
With a thought, the armor on his right arm instantly restored itself to its original state.
(Fortunately, I have illusions and various mirrored weapons to coordinate the fight, so I won't fall into a disadvantage. However, if this turns into a war of attrition, I'll have to take the Insamona...)
Sherlock pondered silently. Although that forbidden drug, which kept the mind in a state of continuous excitement, could temporarily improve the Sorcerer's endurance, Sherlock didn't plan on eating that "soul-stirringly" flavored powder again unless absolutely necessary after learning of its side effects.
(In that case, let's settle this quickly! You were the one who went looking for death first, so don't blame me...)
At this thought, two cold beams of murderous intent flashed in Sherlock's eyes, and the blood-red glow on the external armor became even more eerie.
What? You say run away? While that plan was highly feasible, Sherlock had never considered such a cowardly idea. Though the Sorcerer was someone who generally avoided trouble, he wasn't afraid of trouble to that extent.
Battle! Blood! Death!
In truth, Sherlock hadn't even noticed it himself, but deep in his heart, he had always craved these things. Otherwise, he wouldn't have performed the "great feat" of dismantling a Marine branch with his bare hands back in the East Blue.
"Aaaaahhhh! Sorcerer! I'm going to kill you!"
With a roar of extreme rage, a soot-covered Burgess leapt out from the flames. At this moment, aside from the championship belt around his waist, his clothes had been reduced to tattered rags by the explosion. He looked like a beggar, utterly pathetic.
He had every right to be angry. As a Fighting Champion, he had fought many duels over the years, but this was the first time he had encountered such a sinister enemy. Clearly, the opponent was no match for him in a fair one-on-one, yet they used all sorts of annoying tricks to make him look this miserable.
The Sorcerer's elusive and unpredictable fighting style was truly a headache-inducing source of madness.
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze