Arlong's figure turned into a gray torpedo, carrying the determination to perish together, his jagged long nose tearing through the air and stabbing straight at Lorne's chest.
This strike, which gathered all his strength and fury, was steadily blocked by a thick ice armor that appeared out of thin air three feet in front of Lorne.
"Clang!"
This time the sound of the collision was even more jarring.
Arlong's pride-and-joy jagged long nose shattered on impact; several broken teeth mixed with blood splattered out, and under his ability, new teeth quickly grew back.
Lorne watched his futile, frantic appearance and clapped his hands lightly, feeling somewhat bored.
"How interesting, running into my domain and still wanting to attack me?"
Before his voice fell, the ice beneath Arlong's feet erupted, and countless ferocious ice spikes instantly grew and intertwined, forming a sturdy thorn cage that bound him tightly, leaving him unable to move.
"Human... you low-class creature... by what right! By what right do you possess this kind of power!"
Arlong struggled and roared frantically in the ice cage, every inch of his muscles straining but unable to shake those ice spikes in the slightest.
"Arlong-aniki!"
Seeing his leader trapped, Hatchan lost control as well, stimulated by the death of his kin.
For the first time, a ferocious killing intent appeared on his simple face; his six arms wielded long swords, whipping up a storm of blades as he rushed toward Lorne.
"Six-Sword Style Ultimate Technique~ Six-Sword Waltz!"
He attempted to use his strongest move to create an opening for his leader within this airtight web of blades.
The surviving fish-man crew members, trapped with no way out, were also completely incited by Arlong's roar.
Harboring deep-seated contempt for humans and a final desire for survival, they swarmed from all directions, launching a chaotic but fierce siege, attempting to overwhelm Lorne with numbers.
The entire ice field was filled with the fish-men's frantic roars and chaotic footsteps.
In Lorne's eyes, these attacks were no different from moths flying into a flame.
As a thought flashed through his mind, countless crystal-clear ice vines instantly shot out from the smooth ice surface.
These vines seemed to have a life of their own, precisely entangling every charging fish-man, binding and imprisoning them or directly piercing their soles, pinning them firmly in place.
Immediately after, countless tiny ice spikes shot out from the ice layer from bottom to top!
Puchi! Puchi! Puchi!
The sound of sharp weapons piercing flesh merged into one, and the harbor instantly turned into a hell of ice crystals filled with wails.
Those fish-men who had been aggressive just a moment ago were pierced through the body by the ice spikes rising from beneath their feet in the blink of an eye; blood dripped down the glistening ice crystals, staining the pure white ice field with patches of jarring red flowers.
Before Hatchan's Six-Sword Waltz could get close to Lorne, several thick ice vines had already entangled his six arms, the immense force making it impossible for him to swing his long swords again.
He watched helplessly as his kin were slaughtered, and finally, a huge ice spike broke through the ice from beneath his feet, piercing his chest.
In the blink of an eye, except for Arlong who was trapped in the ice cage, all the fish-men were either nailed to the ice on the verge of death or had already completely stopped breathing.
Arlong looked at the hellish scene before him, watching all his subordinates killed in an instant; his frantic roaring gradually ceased, replaced by an extreme resentment.
"Despicable... despicable devil fruit user!"
He gritted his teeth, every word tinged with the taste of blood,
"Without this damn devil fruit, you are nothing! Low-class human, only knowing how to use such treacherous schemes!"
His bloodshot eyes stared fixedly at Lorne, and under the pressure of being on the brink of death, two lines of tears actually slid down his hideous cheeks.
Lorne walked slowly to his ice cage, looking down at him from above.
"Your tears are shed for the power and hegemony you've lost, not for these dead kin, right!"
Lorne's cold words precisely punctured Arlong's final disguise.
"You use racial hatred to cover up your own brutality, using the history of victims to play the role of the perpetrator, wantonly looting and slaughtering lives weaker than you."
"Now that death is imminent, you start complaining that your opponent's power is too strong and their methods are despicable?"
There was a trace of undisguised sarcasm in his voice.
"It really is... sickening."
Lorne didn't say any more; the ice cage trapping Arlong suddenly contracted, and countless sharp ice spikes grew from the inside.
At the same time, the ice spikes pinning the other fish-men also began to divide frantically, with countless finer ice needles churning and tearing inside their bodies.
The shrill wails echoed through the harbor and then came to an abrupt end amidst the hair-raising sound of shattering.
Lorne watched as the bodies of those fish-men were about to be completely frozen and ground into sky-filling ice chips, and suddenly slapped his forehead in belated realization.
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