Utter silence.
Night wind itself seemed to freeze, broken only by the faint buzz of a blade pinched between two gnarled fingers, whining like a beaten cur.
Quickblade Mondi's twisted grin collapsed. Terror swelled in his eyes. A titanic force crushed his arm; he could barely keep hold of the sword, let alone pull it free. Those two liver-spotted fingers felt like immovable mountains, clamping steel and heart alike.
His vaunted speed, his iron-cleaving strength—childish playthings before this old man.
CRACK
The faintest snap rang out. The fingers tightened.
CLANG!
Fine steel parted. The broken tip spun skyward and thunked into distant ground, leaving Mondi clutching a naked hilt.
"Vermin."
Ra Ten's voice was cold, distant, almost evil. No longer rasping, it carried a soul-piercing resonance that clashed with his aged face. Emerald pupils swept the bounty hunters now quaking around him. Each felt a serpent from the abyss fix upon them, icy dread shooting from soles to crown.
" M-monster!"
"Run—RUN!"
One man snapped, hurling his weapon and scrambling away. Others followed, scattering like panicked rabbits; a hundred-million-berry bounty meant nothing against incomprehensible horror. Survival was their only thought.
Ra Ten's lips curled.
Influenced by Piccolo Daimaō's borrowed power—or perhaps merely himself—he spared no mercy for those who had come to claim his life.
He stepped past Kinzu, raised his right hand, fingers splayed. The palm tracked the fleeing hunters—and the port behind them.
HUM
Energy, dreadful and pure, gathered in his hand. Air sizzled. Pale green light swelled into a whirling vortex of annihilation.
"What… what is that?" Kinzu whispered. The sphere ballooned, bathing the night. His heart hammered; awe and terror tangled until worship was all that remained. Was this truly the frail elder who had needed an arm to walk?
"Know despair."
The light reached its apex, painting Ra Ten's face like a demon risen from hell.
"Mako Kōha!"
BOOOOM!
A thick green beam erupted from his palm, drowning wind, surf and any screams. Air tore, earth vaporised. Hunters, crates, quay—everything touched became nothing, not even ash. The beam engulfed the entire harbor.
Time paused.
Then an even greater blast followed.
RUMMMMMBLE
Light seared the sky. Shockwaves ripped outward; ground shuddered like a magnitude-ten quake. Warehouses crumbled, small ships were flung apart, seawater boiled and parted to bare the black seabed.
When the glare died, silence returned—crushing, absolute. Kinzu swayed, oblivious to quake and gale, staring at a scene of apocalypse.
The bustling port… was gone. In its place yawned a colossal crater, edges glass-smooth and smoke-wreathed, driving the shoreline dozens of metres inland. At its base cooled vitrified rock like dark glass.
Of the bounty hunters—including Quickblade Mondi—not a trace remained.
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