He wants to devour me?

The fire of rage inside Moria felt like it was burning through his very skull, searing hot, lashing at his horse-like face and thick neck.

“Devour me?” At last, Moria could not contain himself, and roared aloud:

“Then show me if you can!”

Perona’s eyes went wide. It was the first time she had ever seen Moria-sama so unhinged, like he had become a different person.

She did not know that Davy Jones’s words had dragged Moria back to that day with Kaido of the Beasts—back to that terror. His arrogance had cost every single one of his crew their lives. All he had been able to do was flee in disgrace.

The memory stabbed into his heart like needles, piercing deep into his lungs. How could he not lose control?

Kuma only shook his head quietly.

Davy Jones’s regenerative ability was already more than enough to make him nearly impossible to deal with. If Moria lost his composure and let himself sink into reckless fury, then the balance of this battle would tip instantly and decisively in Davy Jones’s favor.

And indeed, Moria’s mind had no room for careful thought. He wanted only one thing—for Davy Jones to die, to disappear from his sight forever!

“Die!!”

He even screamed the word aloud, unleashing the thought within him. A swarm of Shadow Bats erupted at once!

They filled the entire ceiling of the hall, blotting out the light in a vast black tide. Even Perona, who was used to Moria’s abilities, was shaken pale at the sight.

Never had she seen Moria summon so many bats. The numbers she’d witnessed before had never been his true limit—this was!

A glimmer of hope stirred in her chest. Perhaps Moria-sama really could defeat Davy Jones. The “Thriller Bark” might have been devastated in this invasion, but if they triumphed, it could all be rebuilt.

And then she would once again be the “Ghost Princess” of this island-ship, with her horde of zombie dolls at her command.

But Davy Jones’s ruthless response shattered that fragile hope.

The swarm of Shadow Bats dove for him, eager to tear him apart.

Yet before they could reach him, tentacles burst forth from the floor, the walls, the ceiling—blocking them.

In an instant, the grand hall atop the mast-like mansion had fallen under Davy Jones’s dominion, transformed into a writhing abyssal lair. Tentacles stretched everywhere, filling the space with eldritch horror!

They seized the bats one by one, crushing them effortlessly, while countless more tendrils surged toward Moriah like a crashing tsunami!

Moria’s expression twisted. Before they could close in, he flung his hands outward and conjured a Shadow Box around himself!

The cube of darkness enclosed him completely, his sturdiest defense. The tentacles slammed against it with heavy thuds, but failed to break through.

Davy Jones, unsurprised, leaned forward—and in a blink, was already standing before the box.

Kuma’s eyes twitched violently. He, of all people, understood the mechanics of “instantaneous movement” thanks to his Paw-Paw Fruit. But what he had just witnessed was different—something else entirely.

That was the kind of “teleportation” spoken of only in ancient texts, classified among the mysteries of the occult—words like sorcery, demons, and forbidden arts whispered alongside it.

Kuma had never expected to see it here.

Narrowing his eyes, he felt a tremor in his chest. He had already foreseen the battle’s outcome, and when he used Observation Haki to sense the flow of Busoshoku Haki within Davy Jones, his certainty only deepened.

Ordinarily, Busoshoku spread evenly across the body, like armor—but that was wasteful, inefficient.

True masters of Haki could make it flow, drawing it away from useless areas and concentrating it exactly where it was needed.

Focus it to a single point—and the result was overwhelming.

Kuma watched as Davy Jones gathered his Haki into his right fist, and then drove it into the Shadow Box.

How could mere shadows withstand such force?

BOOM!

The explosion rattled the hall. The Shadow Box shattered, black fragments scattering like glass—revealing Moria’s stunned face within.

In the same instant, Davy Jones’s hand pressed against Moria’s bulging gut. Threads of Busoshoku seeped inside, and a tingling numbness spread through him.

Moriah knew at once—this was a deathly signal.

He opened his huge mouth, terror plain in his eyes, his voice breaking:

“W-wait! You—”

But Davy Jones had no intention of listening. The shockwave of Haki detonated inside Moriah’s body!

Splat!

Agony roared through him, as if he had been cast straight into hell. Blood gushed from his mouth in a scarlet torrent.

“Moriah-sama!” Perona shrank behind the sofa, trembling in terror. She could only watch, powerless.

How… how could this be? Even Moriah-sama can’t defeat Davy Jones? Then on this entire island, who possibly could…?

Her eyes darted wildly—until they landed on Kuma, sitting calmly on the sofa.

Of course! Kuma was a Shichibukai too. If two Warlords joined forces, there was no way Davy Jones could win… right?

Why then? Why won’t you move? Why won’t you help Moria-sama?

Kuma felt the girl’s burning gaze, but he did not rise.

He was at a critical moment in “the plan.” To take risks now, without absolute necessity, was unthinkable.

If his body were too badly damaged, even Dr. Vegapunk might patch him back together—but the World Government and Navy Headquarters could very well accelerate the process that stripped him of his will.

And Kuma still had unfinished business. He could not afford to lose himself yet.

But to sit by and watch another Warlord fall to Davy Jones, to see this man rise as a terrifying new force upon the seas—was that truly good? Or was it a disaster in the making?

Dragon… how would you have me choose?

As expected of one you hold in such esteem, this man indeed carries a threat unlike any other. Stirring the seas of the New World is not a matter of “if,” but of “when.”

While Kuma hesitated, Moria, grievously wounded, nearly lost consciousness.

Desperately, he swapped places with his shadow, barely escaping Davy Jones’s next strike.

Davy Jones glanced from the dissipating darkness to Moria’s distant form, faintly surprised.

“So you still have a trick like this… A shame you reacted too slowly at the start. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be half-dead now.”

Moria spat blood onto the floor, cursing inwardly, yet grudgingly agreeing. If it had been his younger self—twenty years ago—he would not have been struck at all.

These past two decades… what have I become? How did I fall so low?

Regret surged through him. But now was no time for despair.

His eyes flicked to Perona. He frowned, then hardened his resolve.

Abandoning her.

In a single bound, he hurled himself through the window!

Now was not the time to risk his life for another. He had to regroup, to recover first.

Crash! Glass shattered as Moria leapt out, plunging down toward the mansion below.

Perona went white as chalk. In that brief instant, their eyes had met—and knowing him as well as she did, she had immediately realized the truth.

He was leaving her. Fleeing alone.

Sure enough, moments later, Moria was gone. She was left behind, trapped in the hall with Davy Jones.

No more tears came. She shook, hollow with dread, her last hopes collapsing.

All she could do was turn her trembling gaze toward Kuma.

A desperate prayer for aid. Even if there was no bond between them—what else could she do?

Davy Jones glanced toward the shattered window, then turned back to Kuma.

“And who are you?”

He could sense Kuma’s power—greater than Moria’s, certainly. But from the beginning, Kuma had radiated no killing intent. That was why Davy Jones had ignored him until now.

With Moria gone, it was time to reassess the board.

Kuma cast a glance at Perona. With this girl present, he could not risk exposing his ties to Dragon—and in truth, Davy Jones himself was hardly someone to be trusted.

Perona, however, misread the look. She thought Kuma meant to save her.

But his words struck her like ice water down her spine.

“I am Bartholomew Kuma, the ‘Tyrant,’ one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. I came here only to deliver a message from Marine Headquarters to Moria. Beyond that, I will not interfere.”

Kuma’s mind was clear. Tonight’s battle was not his to fight. He would not pay the price of a broken body—or his very death—just to save Moriah.

Perona’s last hope crumbled. Her eyes went vacant. She sank to the floor, head bowed, lost in despair.

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep