Ohm lunged, the Eisen Whip transforming into a massive, jagged fan meant to decapitate. "End of the Ordeal!"
With a flick of Ohm’s wrist, the Eisen Whip lashed out. It didn't just strike; it curved, defying physics, weaving through the existing mesh of barbed wire to trap Zoro in a collapsing sphere of metal. 177 : The Ordeal of Iron! White Barbed Death Ma...
Zoro didn't retreat. He couldn't. To move backward was to be shredded by the "White Barbed" perimeter. Instead, he spun, a whirlwind of steel meeting iron. Clang! Ohm lunged, the Eisen Whip transforming into a
He closed his eyes. If Ohm could read his mind, Zoro would stop thinking. He focused on the breath of the iron—the vibration of the barbs, the tension in the whip. He wasn't looking for a gap in the wires; he was looking for the soul of the metal. Zoro didn't retreat
Ohm didn't smile. He raised his hilt, and the Eisen Whip—a blade of shapeshifting iron—extended like a living snake. "The sky is a place of judgment, Blue Sea dweller. Your struggle is merely the sound of a bird flapping its wings before the cage closes."
The thick, sulfuric mist of the Ordeal of Iron didn't just obscure vision; it tasted like pennies and old blood.