"How stupid. Summoning a dragon in here? And not even one that can breathe fire, just a full-metal beast. If it could fly, maybe it’d be a bit of trouble."
Aeridar smirked, lips curling with amusement. "But only a bit."
In some ways, a full-metal dragon was actually inferior to a real one. True dragons bore scales harder than steel and could unleash devastating breath attacks. A powerful dragon’s breath could melt metal like wax. In a real fight, a true dragon outclassed a clunky metal black dragon by a wide margin.
Especially because a dragon’s greatest asset, flight, was completely nullified in this place. A narrow underground chamber that restricted aerial movement? A grounded dragon, even one made of metal, was nothing against a true powerhouse.
Clack... clack clack clack...
Aeridar approached with deliberate steps, closing in on the black metal dragon embedded in the wall.
Its body was riddled with fractures, like a porcelain doll about to shatter. Though it struggled to rise, the network of cracks across its form robbed it of all strength, half of its massive body remained slumped against the stone wall.
"Can you hand over the so-called map now? I’m running low on patience."
He stopped three paces from the dragon, leaning slightly forward. His gaze fell on "Lion," who lay slumped against one of the dragon’s wings.
Lion looked like every bone in his body had been shattered. He sagged against the wing like a broken puppet, his chest caved in, blood dribbling from his mouth.
"Kh... keep dreaming... khak—cough cough cough!"
He barely got a few words out before a violent coughing fit wracked his body. With each breath, he spat up chunks of mangled pink tissue, soaked in blood; shattered pieces of internal organs, clearly.
"You know the Triangle Pirates can’t hold me back. That much should be obvious."
Aeridar’s voice remained calm. "So hand over the map to this underground maze and save us both the trouble."
He wasn’t too bothered by Lion’s defiance. With injuries that severe, not even an awakened Zoan-type Devil Fruit could restore him quickly. It would take an immense amount of stamina, if it worked at all.
"Honestly, giving someone like you an Ancient Zoan... total waste."
Aeridar muttered the last line with a slight shake of his head.
Back when he lived in his old world, before the transfer, he’d already read enough in the manga to know.
Even without the anime, the page told the tale: Jack the Drought, one of Kaido’s All-Stars and a fellow Ancient Zoan, was leagues above Lion.
Jack had battled the Mink Tribe’s two rulers, the Ruler of Day, Duke Inuarashi, and the Ruler of Night, Master Nekomamushi, for five days and nights without a clear victor.
He’d even had the gall to attack a fleet that included a former Fleet Admiral, an Admiral, and the Navy’s Chief of Staff.
Sure, Jack wasn’t the brightest. But strength? He had that in spades.
"Kh—compared to a monster like you... ob-obviously I don’t stack up... khak..."
Lion’s bloodshot eyes met Aeridar’s, every word torn from shredded lungs.
"Well, thanks for the compliment," Aeridar said lightly, pacing a slow circle. "I’m confident in my strength, but even I’ll admit this sea has no shortage of monsters. Plenty out there stronger than me."
He stopped again, voice dipping.
"That said, if you really meant that compliment... you’ll give me the map. This place is too damned complicated. I’ve taken the wrong path three times already. I don’t plan on letting my loyal subordinates waste their lives wandering around this maze. They’re still useful."
He gave a little shrug, then added casually, "Oh, and you can give me this glove, too."
With that, Aeridar bent down, eyes briefly flicking toward the struggling black dragon. He gripped Lion’s left wrist and easily slid off the black glove. Lion twitched, trying to resist, but his ruined body could do nothing.
The moment the glove slipped free, the black metal dragon went limp. The sound of its creaking ceased completely, and its massive body returned to stillness, as if it had reverted to an inert metal statue.
"...Huh?" Aeridar blinked. "Did... did removing the glove deactivate it?"
He sounded more curious than surprised.
Meanwhile, at the other battlefield near the Ritual Altar.
A gleaming arc of steel flashed through the air. A massive bronze lion, forged entirely of metal, was sent flying.
"...That’s weird," Oliver muttered, staring at "Rhein," the fallen lion construct that now lay over a dozen meters away, unmoving. "Why isn’t it getting up?"
A fiery explosion burst in the sky, churning with thick black smoke.
Moments later, a gigantic shadow plummeted from above, slamming into the ground with a thunderous crash that cratered the earth. Dust and shockwaves rolled outward in all directions.
Oliver squinted through the settling debris. A five-meter-wide bronze eagle lay in the center of the crater. Charred and scratched, it remained intact...
...but completely still.
Arlan landed from the sky with practiced mastery of Geppo, scanning the fallen figure of Ikou with a confused expression. "Wait... Did I really kill him?"
"You’re far too naive."
Oliver’s lips twitched as he glanced around the battlefield.
All of the animated statues, stone or metal, had gone eerily still. Gone was the lifelike movement from moments before, frozen as if snapped from a trance.
"Could it be... the Captain succeeded?" For the first time, a flicker of hope sparked in Oliver’s heart.
Hot blood hissed against the cold air as it spilled from four deep, claw-marked gashes across Wolf’s chest. He dropped to his knees, crimson pooling beneath him.
Facing him stood Vito, now in his Thunder Basilisk form, claws dripping with blood. His eyes narrowed toward the nearby metal statues, three in all, collapsed in lifeless heaps.
"That monster pulled it off. Damn lucky, too... If this kept going, I would’ve burned out just trying to outlast them."
Exhaling heavily, Vito’s body began to shrink, electricity fading from his form as he reverted to his human self.
Wolf looked skyward with a trembling gaze. "Didn’t think... even Lion and our trump card wouldn’t be enough. Seems fate’s sealed..."
With those final words, his head slumped forward, lifeless. Vito’s last strike had torn through his heart.
"Captain, we’ve taken heavy losses," said Rock, voice low as he approached, his expression grim.
A quick survey told the story, of all the officers besides Marcus, only three remained. As for the crew struck down by Aeridar’s Conqueror’s Haki at the altar steps, they were as good as dead.
Even if the statues hadn’t actively finished them off, the rampaging horde would’ve trampled over any survivors without mercy.
Vito’s expression darkened. He understood too well, they’d paid a heavy price.
"Let’s retreat and recover. Even if that bastard got the map and pinpointed the treasure’s location inside the mausoleum, without the key, he can’t open the vault," Vito muttered, voice icy. "And when he comes crawling back... he’ll have to weigh the cost of that key, against his life."
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to my ——— (.)com/JuanFiction [remove the parentheses ( )]
There are over 100 advance Chapters available for you!