signingbooks Chapter 681: Always thinking about running away!
Chapter 681: Always thinking about running away!
The ashes of the artillery fire have not yet settled.
The coastline of Elbaf was a gray slurry of broken ice and gunpowder smoke. Three warships with beluga whale bone carvings embedded in their prows plowed through the last ice floes, their hulls pressing down on the wreckage of naval ships, producing a sickening metallic scraping sound.
The ship hasn't docked yet.
A blue flame exploded from the deck.
Marco didn't wait.
His fiery wings unfurled in the wind, and the flames of rebirth engulfed his entire body. He was a firebird, trailing a long, fiery tail, swooping straight inland. Scorching air currents swept across the sea, steaming up a vast expanse of white mist.
"Stop dawdling!"
Beckman, cigarette butt dangling from his lips, jumped off the ship, his boots crushing a patch of ice. His rifle was already slung over his shoulder. He squinted at the ice field ahead, now overrun by the blackwater monsters, and exhaled a smoke ring.
"Marco, lead the way, we'll follow. Target the flank."
Sabo was the last to land, his pipe suit billowing in the wind. He turned around and saw the captains of the Whitebeard Pirates, elite members of the Revolutionary Army, gunmen of the Red-Haired Pirates, and even a few old faces from Roger's ship.
They see the same light.
"Walk!"
Sabo snorted.
A burst of fire erupted from the tip of his arm, and he was the first to rush out.
Hundreds of people followed behind.
The footsteps sounded like muffled thunder.
Marco was the first to crash into the monster horde.
With a sweep of its blue flame wings, the black, twisted bodies flew out like pieces of paper, burning to charcoal in mid-air.
He didn't slow down.
A beam of blue light pierced straight into the depths of the icy plain.
ground.
Beckman blew the head off the monster at the front with a single shot.
Sabo punched the second man through the chest.
The two, each with their own men, like the two blades of a pair of pincers, gripped the opening Marco had torn open and advanced toward the battlefield of Whitebeard and Rocks.
The reinforcements are like a red-hot knife.
It shoved itself deep into the rotten flesh of the monster horde.
Where they passed, the monster's corpses piled up on the ice, forming low, black walls.
High up behind.
A blond figure stood ramrod straight.
Garin Sei.
He stood with his hands behind his back, his white gloves spotless, surveying the battlefield with indifference. His monstrous army, like interlocking gears, surrounded them from three directions, compressing them layer by layer, determined to crush those in the heart of the icy plains alive.
Everything is going according to plan.
Until a few lights appeared from the coastline.
Blue flames.
Orange flames.
There were also white streaks of fire shooting from the muzzle.
They were like a few awls, piercing through his encirclement from the outside.
Garin Sheng's brows furrowed.
"What is that?"
The naval staff officer next to him hurriedly raised his binoculars, and after just one glance, his face turned pale.
"Report! The coastal defenses have been breached! At least three enemy ships have landed, carrying several hundred men. Marco, Saab, and Beckman are all confirmed to be inside!"
"Several hundred people?"
Garin Sei's voice rose eight octaves.
He whirled around, his white glove nearly poking the staff officer's nose, and his noble, aloof face cracked completely. A bluish-gray hue crept from his forehead to his chin, and the muscles at the corners of his mouth twitched twice.
"The Navy is a bunch of useless trash!"
His voice was shrill and piercing, causing the officers present to shrink back.
"With so many people on the perimeter, how can you hold them off?"
Garin Sei suddenly flung his hand away.
The white glove slammed onto the command platform.
boom!
The map on the table bounced up completely.
His chest heaved violently, and his rapid breathing shattered the elegant mask he had maintained throughout the entire performance.
"Reorganize! Drive them back into the sea!"
The order hasn't been passed on yet.
On the other side of the icy plain, shouts of battle had already erupted.
Whitebeard heard it.
Marco's blue flames, Sabo's raging fire, Beckman's gunfire.
A familiar scent rushed into his Observation Haki.
The old man's blood was burning.
He turned around abruptly and just saw a blue phoenix burn across the horizon, its wings sweeping away a large swath of black water monsters.
"Gurarararara!"
The white-bearded man laughed wildly, his wounds gushing blood, and the domineering aura emanating from his Murakumo-giri trembled. He slammed the hilt of his sword onto the ice, causing the ice beneath the feet of the dozen or so monsters around him to crack instantly.
"Marco! You brats, you've come at the perfect time!"
Rocks didn't laugh.
But he did something even more ruthless.
He took two steps back, his back slamming solidly into the white-bearded man's back.
Two old enemies, surrounded by monsters, stand back to back.
A tacit understanding spanning forty years.
No need to speak.
The cloud-like creature shone with a white light.
Rocks' fist was enveloped in a dark purple aura of dominance.
The two attacked simultaneously.
One after the other, the monster horde in front of them was cleared out in a semi-circle.
A torrential downpour brought down the minced meat and black water.
Dozens of monsters are gone.
The siege of the monster horde has been interrupted.
Rocks, panting heavily, glanced at the frenzied reinforcements and then at the few naval officers who dared not advance. Blood streamed down his forehead, smearing half his face.
He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth stained red with blood, and smiled at the group of naval officers.
A sinister smile.
"Reinforcements have arrived."
Rocks' voice was hoarse and raspy, like a rusty nail scraping against stone.
"You scum, just wait to die."
The naval officers stopped in their tracks.
They are not fools.
The two monsters in front of them had already taken their lives, and now a group of madmen who could break through the defenses had arrived.
The scales have tipped.
No one dared to speak.
Whitebeard didn't give them any time either.
The old man raised his foot and stomped it heavily.
The ice surface groaned.
He raised the Murakumogiri, and a domineering white light covered the blade, causing the space to hum and crack like spiderwebs.
"shock!"
A knife.
Chop it down.
The ice surface, spanning a radius of 100 meters, seemed to be shattered by an invisible hand. Dozens of black water monsters burst out from within, and the black water was evaporated into red mist, which then dispersed into the sky above the ice field.
The blow shattered the monster.
It also shattered the frustration that the Allied forces had been holding in all day.
The counterattack has begun.
Marco's blue flames swept across the ground, burning a patch of it to ashes.
Sabo's fiery fist blasted a path, and the revolutionary army shouted to fill the gap.
Beckman's gunfire never stopped; one shot, one kill.
The Whitebeard captains each led their teams into battle, the giants of Elbaf picked up half a weapon and roared, Loki was helped up by Ironhide, his eyes red as he stared intently in the direction of the reinforcements.
"Fight back!"
Someone shouted.
Then everyone started shouting.
A roar erupted from the allied positions, and all fronts simultaneously shifted from defense to offense. Those warriors, their heads bowed low from the fighting, gripped their weapons again and charged towards the monster army.
The encirclement on the flanks collapsed in just five minutes.
high altitude.
Chenye drifted beneath the clouds.
He looked at the icy plains.
On one side were Luffy and Im. The white greatsword and the dark gold Codex Sword were still clashing wildly, pillars of light shooting into the sky, shockwaves spreading outwards in concentric circles. Luffy's white figure charged wildly through the dark gold sword light.
On the other side was the flank. Blue and orange flames tore open a gap in the monster horde, and reinforcements, like a flood breaking through a dam, were overwhelming Garin's formation.
Chen Ye's gaze shifted between the two battlefronts.
His lips twitched slightly.
The encirclement and suppression of the old era.
Broken.
No matter how much darkness Im has left, no matter how many monsters Garin Saint has left.
The scales have tipped over.
Chen Ye withdrew his gaze and disappeared into the higher clouds.
On the other side of the battlefield.
Behind a forgotten ice mound.
Kizaru strolled along, hands in his pockets.
He chose a good location—high enough and secluded enough.
He's been here since the start of the war, occasionally kicking out beams of light to pretend he's fighting. Most of the time, he's watching with his half-closed eyes.
Now, his gaze fell on the few men who had stormed in from the coast.
Marco. Sabo. Beckmann.
Kizaru gave a soft "tsk".
These three together represent half of the elite of the new era. Whitebeard and Rocks have also met up. Luffy is still dominating Im.
He slowly stroked his chin.
"It's about time to consider a way out."
Kizaru's voice was languid, as if he were discussing dinner. But his eyes were scanning the coastline, calculating an escape route.
To the north are the reinforcements' ships; that won't work.
To the east are ice cliffs, a complex terrain where one could easily run into fleeing monsters.
west.
Kizaru's gaze lingered for two seconds on the ice ridge to the west that led to the open sea.
Ok.
That road is nice.
He put his hands back in his pockets and yawned.
Not urgent.
hold on.
Let it get a little more chaotic.
It was so chaotic that no one would notice when a general had disappeared.
That's the only way to leave with dignity.
The center of the ice sheet.
Luffy's white flame greatsword, carrying the kinetic energy to tear through space, slammed into Im's dark gold shield for the seventh time.
Im was knocked back three steps, and the patterns on the Codex Sword flashed wildly, blocking the attack.
The shouts of battle from the flanks surged in like a tide.
The navy's encirclement was full of gaps.
Both fronts are pushing forward.
On one side lies an eight-hundred-year-old destiny.
On one side is the meeting that will rewrite the course of the war.
The two waves surged toward their respective climaxes.
The point where they meet is not far away.