The instant her boots hit the ground, Carina shot forward, racing toward Perona as the girl crashed down.
The blast just now had hurt the enemy too!
Mini Hollow – Ghost Rap!
Perona pushed herself upright, clapped her hands, and summoned a swarm of tiny hollows that swirled in from every side. Then, like miniature bombs, they detonated one after another, holding the foe at bay.
It's fine. A tiny setback.
Negative Hollows hadn't worked, but she still had other hollows and the Zombie Soldiers all around.
Whooosh... Whoosh...
The Zombie Soldiers rushing to help hadn't come close before arcs of blue-green flying slashes swept the street, cutting every last one of them down.
Far away, Zoro strode forward, clearly aware of the situation and coming to help. Right then, however, Zombie Generals blocked the way.
"Out of my way!"
Zoro lashed out with Oni Giri. In a blink, a Zombie General clutching twin blades and a bottle in its teeth was carved into three pieces.
He sidestepped the lunge of a spider-monkey zombie whose bloated body rode eight spider legs but wore a monkey's head. A single upward cut split the creature and the sticky web it spat, clean in two.
"Damn you! Die!"
A hulking boar zombie, blades in both trotters, struck from behind. The curved blades whistled through empty air. Zoro vanished, and the boar was diced to scraps.
With no time to celebrate, Zoro stamped off.
Ahead, endless Mini Hollows burst in mid-air, sealing Carina's path. They couldn't truly wound her, but they kept her from closing in.
"Horo-horo-horo! You'll never get through!
Perona kept releasing streams of Mini Hollows while Zombie Soldiers circled to surround the enemy.
Of course she'd noticed the Zombie Generals falling in the blink of an eye and the green-haired swordsman sprinting her way.
She raised a hand and a giant hollow appeared and was hurled at the woman. At the same instant, Perona rose into the air, putting distance so she could direct the zombie horde against the pair.
The forces she'd gathered over the years weren't limited to those few Zombie Generals.
Below, held back by the hollow detonations, Carina's eyes flashed with frustration.
A rare chance to shine, wasted.
And she hadn't even finished her target?
Still… there was still a chance.
Instead of pressing forward, Carina fell back, because Zoro had arrived.
Thank heavens they were on the same street, he couldn't get lost here.
The reason was obvious: wave after wave of Negative Hollows flying straight at him.
"You're finished now."
Seeing this, Perona realised the woman could slip past her hollows, while the green swordsman could not.
So if...
Her body jerked, and every thought and plan snapped shut as a blossom of blood burst from the back of her skull.
Zoro, gathering strength for a Flying Slash, froze.
Carina, who'd been clearing the ghosts to give Zoro room, stood stunned.
They watched Perona drop—lifeless.
Dead?
How?
Who?
A gun?
But no shot had sounded.
Zoro and Carina stood blank for a heartbeat, but the zombies couldn't afford to.
"Perona-sama is dead? We're doomed!"
"Damn it! Avenge her! It's the only way Moria-sama might spare us!"
"Kill them!"
The thousand-odd zombies seethed. Unlike them—expendable, unable to truly die, the Mysterious were Moria's companions. One had died days ago, and now Perona too.
If they didn't kill these intruders, their own shadows would be ripped away.
Several kilometres off, Van Augur lifted his cross-hair from the scope, satisfied with the hit. He had, at least, claimed one of Moria's underlings.
Without pausing, he merged his Perception with the lens' zoom and surveyed the town centre.
Buildings collapsed in succession, dust plumes rose ten metres high, every house within hundreds of metres lay in ruins from stray shock-waves. Every casual strike toppled a cottage.
Even from afar, Van Augur felt a chill. He silently raised Senriku again.
'Sea-Cleaving Swordsman Hiroto, I'm coming to back you.'
In the heart of town, the Armament Haki-clad Shigure carved a cold arc through the air.
The coiled shadow was split in two but the blade's force did not slacken, and a spray of blood burst from Moria's chest. He was flung backward, demolishing yet another house.
"Still clinging to hope?"
Hiroto levelled Shigure, scattering wild slashes. The bats birthed by the shadow were sliced to ribbons. The fragments re-formed. They had done so countless times, showing almost no wear.
Worse, Moria could swap body parts with his shadows an instant before a cut landed, leaving Hiroto's strikes technically on target yet harm-free.
That trick, plus reckless bursts of stamina, had let Moria hold out seven or eight minutes against Hiroto. But he was tired.
Hiroto had begun feinting, and soon Moria simply couldn't match the speed of the blades. Swapping limbs with shadows required actually reacting in time.
The shadow gathered, was shattered again, and re-formed once more.
Hiroto paid it no mind. Dust swirling, he crossed dozens of metres, his gaze fixed on Moria as the man crawled from the rubble.
When Moria looked up, a crushing wave of dread hit him.
For seven or eight minutes, he had been utterly suppressed.
But rage burned hotter.
Haki... only this level of Haki?
To the old Moria, it would have been the mark of small fry, nothing to fear.
He was losing, but so what?
Once he got serious... really serious...
Moria lowered his head, knuckles white around the twin huge scissor-blades, yet not a wisp of Haki answered his call.
Not Armament Haki, nor even Observation Haki.
"Why?"
"You lost your conviction, abandoned the will to fight, stake victory on outside help. What right do you have to wield a power born of self-belief?"
Hiroto walked forward, killing intent rolling, his sneer a mirror of Moria's own disdain at the start.
Moria shuddered at the taunt, staring in disbelief at his own bloated, sluggish form—far from the fighter he had once been.