Chapter Text
The heavy, cold rain felt like a punishment against Jill's skin as she shivered, bound by crude ropes to a broad oak tree. The bandits had sought a temporary reprieve from the downpour themselves, setting up a makeshift camp just out of sight behind some dense foliage, occasionally shouting crude jokes that carried over the drumming rain. Her wrists were raw, her ankle twisted, and the smell of wet earth and unwashed men filled the air. She wanted to cry, but exhaustion had claimed her tears long ago.
The sound of an approaching wagon over the sodden ground was a sudden, sharp anomaly. Through the blurry veil of rain and her own despair, she saw it pull to a halt not far from the bandit camp. From her hidden vantage point, she observed the occupants dismount. One was a towering warrior of immense size, his body encased in thick clothing and an all-encompassing black clock with a massive sword hanging from his back. The second was a woman who, even in simple, rain-soaked servant's garb, possessed an undeniable, refined grace. The third was the one who had been driving - a man with striking, vibrant red hair and a matching, saturated crimson longcoat that seemed impervious to the rain.
Sensing a potential rescue, a desperately raw scream tore from Jill's throat. "Help me! Please, help!"
Her cry instantly drew their attention. The largest of the ruffians, a mountain of a man with a face scarred like an old tree trunk, backhanded her viciously, the blow snapping her head to the side.
"Shut your trap, wench! You want another taste?" he roared, pulling a rusty blade from his belt and pressing it menacingly against her throat.
That was when the red-haired man began to walk toward them. He moved with a peculiar, almost lazy calm, despite the drawn weapons now pointed in his direction. The rain seemed to steam and hiss around him, but Jill couldn't be sure if it was the temperature or a trick of the light from the fire.
"Excuse me." He began, his voice surprisingly mild over the din of the storm. "I wonder if you'd be so kind as to release the girl?"
Laughter erupted from the bandits, the leader sneering. "Release her? Get lost, boy, before we gut you and take your wagon!"
The redhead paused, his head cocked slightly. "Well, you can't say I didn't start with words. Then, again, words are always wasted on dead men."
The bandit charged. Jill tensed, expecting the worst, but what happened next made no sense. The bandit's knife passed through the redhead's torso as if he were made of air. The blade simply continued its swung path without drawing a single drop of blood, somehow having met no flesh to sink itself into.
The bandit froze, staring at his unbloodied knife with utter confusion on his face. Jill was just as confused. Was he a witch? No, those were all women. Still, the redhead didn't wait for the bandit to recover his senses.
He stretched out an arm and seemed to turn it into a hazy vapor that coiled and thickened with an unnatural yellow hue before it rushed outward, consuming the area around the bandits. The air turned acrid, a thick, suffocating fog that made the men cough and sputter.
The redhead's female companion, moving with a surprising swiftness that belied her noble appearance, darted through the edges of the fog. She reached Jill's tree and began to slash at her bonds with a small, sharp knife.
The bandits were screaming now, their roars turning into strained gurgles as the fog seemed to choke the very air from their chests. Through the yellow haze, Jill could make out chaotic shapes falling to the wet earth, clawing at their own throats, their movements becoming slower and slower until they stopped moving altogether. It was over in a matter of heartbeats. The towering warrior hadn't even needed to draw his sword.
As quickly as it had appeared, the yellow cloud dissipated, revealing the gruesome tableau of the lifeless bandits. The redhead stood among them, the only lingering evidence of his actions a faint, unpleasant smell that stung Jill's nose. He offered a small, almost apologetic smile to the both of them as his companion finished freeing Jill's raw wrists.
"See, Theresia? Quick and painless." The redhead remarked casually.
"They look extremely pained, Sir Joyboy." 'Theresia' replied in disbelief but turning to Jill, her beautiful features composed as she began to check the younger girl for injuries. "Are you hurt?"
"N-No..." Jill could only stare at the place where the strange man, 'Joyboy', had stood, utterly unable to process how he had killed over half a dozen men without laying a hand on them while the lingering remnants of that strange mist dissipated into the heavy rain.
"Good, get her in the wagon." Joyboy turned his attention towards the oak tree she'd been tied to, frowning at something she couldn't see. "Guts! This one's possessed. You wanna handle it, or should I do it?"
"I need the exercise." The final man, 'Guts', began to approach while Theresia hurried Jill away as the tall man hefted his immense sword, anticipating an attack from an inanimate object.
As they reached the edge of the small clearing, a guttural, unearthly moan ripped through the air, vibrating through the wet ground. Jill stopped short, turning around.
The great oak tree, the very one she had been bound to, was shifting. Grotesque, half-formed faces began to push out from the dark, wet bark - mutilated visages of men, women, and even children, their silent screams now given horrific sound.
Jill felt a wave of nausea; the bandits' talk of "sacrifices" suddenly made a terrifying, tangible sense. She hadn't believed it, couldn't believe something so monstrous existed outside of nightmares.
"Sacrifice...! Sacrifice...!" The possessed tree, animated by the collective agony of the souls, lashed out. Its thick, vine-like branches, as hard as aged iron, whipped through the air with surprising speed and force. Guts met the assault head-on.
The two seemed evenly matched in their ferocity. A particularly brutal sweep of a branch grazed his cheek, leaving a thin line of crimson. He retaliated with a brutal swing of his sword. The blade bit deep into the bark, and to Jill's horror, a dark, thick liquid - more blood than sap - oozed from the wounds, accompanied by a chorus of pained howls from the souls trapped within.
They seemed evenly matched in a macabre dance of iron and wood. The tree's attacks were wild and powerful, scoring several shallow cuts on Guts' armor and skin. Yet, with every cut from his sword, the tree suffered severe damage in comparison, its attacks becoming more frantic and desperate. The air was filled with the cacophony of groaning wood and the faint, collective wails of the trapped spirits.
The fight reached a crescendo when Guts suddenly shifted tactics. He pulled back his left arm and aimed it at the writhing heart of the tree, revealing the limb to be artificial, the metal gleaming dully in the overcast light. There was a sharp click, a blinding flash, and then a thunderous blast from the hidden cannon within the limb tore a gaping hole in the tree's trunk. The impact staggered the possessed monstrosity, and Guts, using the recoil, brought his massive sword around in a final, devastating arc.
The enormous tree shuddered violently, then began to slowly tilt and crash to the ground. The impact shook the earth.
As the dust settled, Jill looked up. Above the clearing, the heavy, rain-laden clouds parted. The downpour ceased instantly, and a single, brilliant shaft of sunlight pierced through the canopy, illuminating the area. In that beam of light, she saw them: hundreds of shimmering, ethereal wisps of light, the souls of the departed, rising gracefully from the wreckage of the tree and drifting upwards, towards the open sky.
"Finally, some sunlight after three whole days." Guts muttered, wiping his face clean with his cloak while staring upwards. Jill watched, her gaze fixed on him, as he turned away from the splintered remains and returned his weapon to its sheath on his back.
The weapon, a testament to the nightmare she had just witnessed and survived while stained with sap and spectral blood, was much too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy and far too rough. Really, it'd be much more accurate to call it a slab of raw iron with sharp edges and a pointed tip.
"Is it over?" Theresia cast a careful look at the fallen tree.
A nearby root formed into a grotesque maw right next to Jill, causing her to recoil and shriek.
Just as she tensed for the impact, a small, luminous creature darted in front of her. It zipped past her face in a flurry of sparkles and slammed a burdock(specifically, the flowery stalk and seed pod of prickly burrs) onto the animated root, somehow defeating it as well as Jill saw it's spirit leave the wood immediately.
"The Death-Strike Bloody Needle."
Saved once more, Jill stared at her second savior. It hovered in the air, a mouse-sized naked boy with pointy ears and insect-like wings.
Jill stared.
"Puck..." Theresia stared at the root with immense disbelief. "How?"
"'Cause I'm amazing like that." The elf replied, sticking its tongue out playfully.
Jill's relief dissolved into stark terror. The world tilted on its axis, the adrenaline finally giving way to overwhelming panic, and Jill fainted dead away.
Misty Valley... An elf from Misty Valley...
After waiting for Jill to wake up and having to explain to her that Puck was mostly harmless (with him even sharing part of his breakfast with her), the young girl introduced herself to us and led the way to her village.
While Theresia agreed so that we could restock on supplies, I already knew how lacking it'd be and even patted myself on the back for stockpiling on money and edibles much earlier.
.
-:|Status|:-
Name: Joyboy
Alias: N/A
Level: 34
Rank: Tectonic Scale(City Level)
Alignment: True Neutral(with Chaotic Good tendencies)
EXP: 11,803/349,999
NRG: 34,000/34,000
STR: 320(B)
VIT: 370(B)
AGI: 415(A)
INT: 320(B)
WIS: 340(B)
CHA: 247(C)
LUK: 408(A)
SP: 180
.
-:|Trait(s)|:-
SI's Gamer Insight: This grants you a Gamer's System interface, allowing for the viewing of stats, analysis of abilities, and insight into the mechanics of the world (e.g., seeing HP bars, skill information, hidden weaknesses).
Anomalous Existence: You are able to host and safely utilize the powers of multiple Devil Fruits without fatal risk to yourself.
Oceanic Vulnerability Removal: The standard Devil Fruit vulnerability to all forms of standing water and seawater has been completely nullified. You can swim freely and retain his full strength and powers even when fully submerged.
.
-:|Skill(s)|:-
[Human Skill(s): Acrobatics | Cooking Mastery | Staff Expertise Acrobatics(All-Terrain Mobility, Hypermobility, Self-Momentum, Surface Running)]
[Haki Skill(s): Kenbunshoku(Intent Sensing, Presence Sensing) | Busoshoku(Aura Cloak, Hardening) | Haoshoku(Domination, Incapacitation)]
[Devil Fruit Skill(s): Gum-Gum Fruit/Human-Human Fruit, Model: Nika(Gear Second(Gum-Gum Hawk Pistol, Gum-Gum Hawk Rifle, Gum-Gum Eagle Bazooka), Gear Third(Gum-Gum Elephant Gun)) | Soul-Soul Fruit(Astralize, Doppelgeist, Exorcise, 'Way of Binding' Arts, 'Way of Destruction' Arts, Soul Pocus) | Gas-Gas Fruit(Whispering Wind, Slumber Spores, Memory Fog, Silent Strangle)]
...
-:|Status|:-
Name: Guts
Alias: The Hundred-Man Slayer, The Black Swordsman
Level: 22
Rank: Urban Scale(City Block Level)
Alignment: True Neutral(with Chaotic Neutral tendencies)
EXP: 54/22,999
NRG: 2,200/2,200
STR: 200(C) → 210(C)
VIT: 200(C) → 210(C)
AGI: 170(D) → 180(D)
INT: 145(D) → 155(D)
WIS: 155(D) → 165(D)
CHA: 15(E) → 25(E)
LUK: 1(E)
.
-:|Trait(s)|:-
Struggler: Ever since he was born, Guts constantly fights against a predetermined, cruel fate.
Brand of Sacrifice: Guts is eternally branded. This increases the frequency of random dark encounters and makes positive luck-based events extremely rare. Occasionally causes intense pain and attracts malevolent entities at night or in spiritual hotspots.
Missing Eye/Arm: Minor accuracy debuff for ranged attacks (cannon arm bypasses this) and inability to dual-wield standard weapons.
.
-:|Skill(s)|:-
[Human Skill(s): Greatsword Mastery | Acrobatics(All-Terrain Mobility, Hypermobility) | Supernatural Willpower | Stealth Mastery | Knife Expertise | Crossbow Expertise]
[Haki Skill(s): N/A]
[Devil Fruit Skill(s): N/A]
...
-:|Status|:-
Name: Theresia von Einzbern
Alias: Heiress of the Einzbern Household
Level: 8
Rank: Human Scale(Higher Average)
Alignment: Lawful Good
EXP: 444/8,999
NRG: 8/8
STR: 20(E)
VIT: 30(E)
AGI: 40(E)
INT: 160(D)
WIS: 165(D)
CHA: 200(C)
LUK: 50(E)
.
-:|Trait(s)|:-
Noble Upbringing: Even when no longer quite a noble, Theresia still possesses inherent charm that when coupled with her beauty, allowing her to exercise considerable social influence on others.
Sole Survivor: Theresia exists as the sole native human of her world to ever witness the Godhand upclose and be unharmed by them, granting her strong resistance against the intimidation and abilities of other Apostles.
Vow of Steel: Theresia gains stacking stat bonuses every time she is physically defeated but survives, symbolizing her resolve to 'never be weak again'.
.
-:|Skill(s)|:-
[Human Skill(s): Business Mastery | Negotiation Mastery Social Attraction]
[Haki Skill(s): N/A]
[Devil Fruit Skill(s): N/A]
.
"Here it is."
I ignored the Status Screens to pay attention at Jill's voice after she'd directed our wagon towards her home village, Theresia having been the coachman this time. The wagon's wheels finally ground to a halt, kicking up a final puff of dust before a silence heavier than the humid air settled over us.
Jill hopped down from the driver's bench first, a nervous excitement warring with a deep-seated apprehension that made her movements jerky as she idly wrung her hands. "Well, we're here."
Theresia dismounted next, sliding down carefully. Compared to canon, she'd been the one to offer up her cloak as a remedy for Jill's decency instead of Guts, so her awkward attempt to not automatically assume a pose of etiquette was more obvious. "Did something happen here?"
"Possibly. These people are really afraid of something to be keeping indoors during broad daylight." I dismounted after her, my boots sinking into the dry earth of the village's main path while Guts followed after me, the massive sword on his back making a dull thud as he jumped to the ground. The sight of him - a walking arsenal of raw, uncompromising violence - caused the few villagers who had been peeking from darkened doorways to vanish instantly. A few children, wide-eyed and gaunt, pointed before being yanked back inside. The fear was a palpable thing here, almost a character in its own right. All definitely the results of Rosine's 'elf' raids.
The village... it was exactly as I expected, and yet worse. Run-down shacks, broken fences, and a pervasive air of fear. Residents peeked from behind grimy curtains, their faces pale and withdrawn, and recoiled when they saw me, Guts and Theresia. Guts, a mountain of scowls and steel, probably didn't help. Theresia, in simple servant's clothes, held herself with an unshakeable poise that was starkly out of place. Up close, there was a nobility in her features - high cheekbones, her elegant gait - that no amount of roughspun fabric could hide.
"This way." Jill murmured as she motioned us forward, keeping her gaze fixed on the ground. "My house is just down this lane."
"Jill!" Jill's mother, a woman who looked a decade older than she likely was, met us at the door, her face a mask of worry. "Jill, child, where have you been all night?! At a time like this, do you know how worried I was?! ... And these... people?"
The woman, her mother, gave us all a quick, apprehensive once-over. Her eyes lingered on Guts' sword, then on Theresia's unusual bearing as she gave a brief curtsy, before settling on me, a stranger with abnormally colored hair and a carefree smile.
"It's okay, Mama!" Jill gestured to us. "These are Sir Joyboy, Sir Guts, and Lady Theresia. They're good people. They even saved me from bandits and..." Jill paused as she clearly remembered the possessed tree. "...bandits. Just bandits, and nothing else. But guess what, they're really strong! They could even help with our problem!"
Before her mother could properly respond, a crash came from inside. A gruff voice slurred. "Who's there, you hag? More mouths to feed?"
Jill flinched, physically stepping back, her previous excitement evaporating into palpable dread. Stepping out of the house, came out Jill's father - I knew he had a name, but I didn't give a shit about it - flanked by two equally disreputable-looking friends. Underneath a metal helmet, his face was blotchy and his eyes bloodshot with drink, one hand still clutching a tankard while the other shakily gripped a walking stick.
"Huh. Runnin' out like that all'va shudden..." Jill's father mumbled as he still took a swig of alcohol. "Where the hell you been wanderin' all night, ahh?"
Jill grimaced. "S-So what? You look like a fool, still wearing that thing."
"D-Dear, please stop." Jill's mother tried to assauge Jill's father. "She's come back safe, after all."
"Shay wah?! Jill's father replied loudly. "Ye shtupid runt! Me and muh war buddiesh here wash jusht reminishin' 'bout the glory of the battlefield!"
Did he ever even go to the battlefield? And if he did, how long did he serve?
"Hey, Jill. Glad to see you're okay. Sorry about last night." The men waved her at her, either oblvious or uncaring that she flinched worse from them.
Jill's mother didn't miss it either, her gaze narrowing on them suspiciously. "What happened last night?"
"Clearly nothin' important!" Jill's father decided. "That bein' shaid, go buy shome booze."
"You're going to keep drinking?!" Jill snapped, ignoring her mother's pleas to calm down. "Enough, already! Day after day, you babble on about some old battle you lost! Why don't you think about us some more-?!"
*THWACK!*
I frowned as the deadbeat's walking stick hit Jill right at her shoulder, knocking the girl down.
"Lost battle...? Old babble...?" The deadbeat muttered as Jill's mother rushed to fret over Jill, smashing his tankard down. "Don't talk ta me like you know more than a kid! We fought our hearts out so our wives and children could live in safety. I served my country, crawling under cannonballs, and came away with a bum leg."
To be honest, that would really sound genuine... if he clearly wasn't using it as an excuse to abuse his family and not focus on his own pathetic self. Obviously, Jill thought the same, given her glare at him from where she sat on the ground.
"What...? What's that look...?" The deadbeat slowly raised his stick for another beating.
Jill braced for the impact, but it never came. Theresia moved with a speed that belied her calm demeanor, stepping in front of Jill and catching the man's wrist in a grip of iron.
"Do not touch her." Theresia said, her voice low and even, but carrying an undeniable weight of command.
The man, stunned by the interruption, yanked his arm back. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on Theresia. A slow, lecherous grin spread across his face. "Well, well, what have we here? A pretty little thing, aren't ya?"
He reached for Theresia with his free hand, but found himself unable to go any further when I suddenly put myself between him and her. When he tried to shove past me, I grabbed him by his face, ignoring his panicked squirming as I easily hefted him off the ground with just my left hand acting as a vice to his face.
"We mean no harm." I blatantly lied, keeping my voice casual as I turned to address Jill's mother, who was watching with a mix of fear and confusion as I kept manhandling her husband. "We'd just like permission to stay the evening, and we'll need to purchase some supplies while we're here. Food for ourselves, and for the horse."
Letting the deadbeat drop, the drunkard immediately started to bellow in drunken refusal. "No! Get out of here! We don't need any freeloaders!"
That's when Theresia pulled a small, silk pouch from a pocket in her clothes. With a flick of her wrist, she opened it slightly. A flash of brilliant, unmistakable gold caught the ambient light.
The shouting stopped instantly. The father's eyes, wide and avaricious, fixed on the pouch. The prospect of golden coins that could buy him plenty more drinks and maybe some self-respect immediately changed his mind. His friends stared, their jaws hanging open.
"Stay." The deadbeat mumbled, a complete one-eighty in his demeanor. "Stay as long as you like. Uh, we've got room. Right this way. The supplies..." he trailed off, his eyes still glued to the flash of gold.
Jill's mother looked at the gold, then at Theresia's serene expression, then at me.
"The stable is around back." Her voice was hushed, the earlier worry replaced by a cautious awe. "We have grain. I can get you prices."
Gold truly spoke all languages.
"Thank you, ma'am." I looked at Guts, who looked seconds from bursting a gut. "Guts, help me with Ao Lie. Theresia, Jill, perhaps you can help her mother with the arrangements inside."
With this, we secured a place for the night rather than that windmill shed Guts had to use in canon. Once we were out of sight and Guts began to clean his sword while I tied down Ao Lie's reins, a tiny, iridescent being popped out from Guts's satchel. It was Puck, who'd been a silent, hidden passenger this whole time.
"Why'd I have to hide for so long?" Puck asked Guts, dusting off his delicate wings. "It was stuffy in there!"
Guts looked up from his sword, a rare flicker of mild confusion crossing his stern face. "More like, why'd you hide in my satchel of all places?"
I answered for him, leaning against the doorframe. "Because of the little miss, Jill."
I recalled the pure, unadulterated terror in her eyes earlier at the sight of Puck's glowing form, and the later story she'd reluctantly shared: of 'elf raids' that killed people and animals and kidnapped children.
"Don't forget that she was terrified of you, Puck." I explained gently. I don't know how her canon self trusted Puck so easily, but this version of Jill seemed to believe that Guts and I had somehow tamed Puck as our pet. ...well, she wouldn't exactly be wrong about that. "This village... it's seen some things. Bad things. She thought you were one of the monsters who did it. And if she thinks that, so will everybody else here. That is why you need to keep out of sight. If you get seen, you'll cause a panic that get us run out of town, or worse, lynched along with you."
Guts slid his sword back into its sheath with a dull snick.
I added. "Besides, we're here now. If that probable Apostle comes back for another 'elf hunt', we're close enough to deal with it immediately."
I smiled grimly at Guts. "Now, we wait. Let the monsters come to us."
A night's rest in a proper, if rustic, bed was a luxury I hadn't had in a while. Last night, I'd gotten the fuller story from Jill's mother, whose name I learned to be Alice, regarding the 'elf raids'. For some years, villages in the area had been attacked by mysterious creatures. Fields and storehouses were ravaged, livestock were stripped to gore within seconds, and their appearance were always consistent: Small and glowing faintly, tiny people with insect wings on their backs. Elves.
But as per canon, all that paled to the fact that they ate people and always spirited children away. That was why she was so utterly grateful to us for bringing her child back to her.
The rest of the morning was peaceful, especially since Theresia hadn't minded spending the night with Jill to comfort her, and were settling in for a peaceful late morning when my Kenbunshoku started to hum.
"Guts," I called out, my voice low and urgent, the static in my head getting louder. "Get ready. We've got company."
A scream cut through the morning air, followed by a chorus of panicked voices. I was on my feet in an instant, my Soul-Soul Fruit powers flaring up in my gut with a sickening lurch. Outside, chaos reigned. Winged creatures, like horrific, distorted sprites or small demons, were swooping down from the sky, their laughter a chilling sound.
False elves.
My Soul-Soul Fruit always gave me a unique sensitivity to souls, and my Kenbunshoku integrated that whenever the I had the Fruit active. These souls flying around were a mess of twisted, corrupted energy – souls screaming under the weight of dark magic and inhuman changes.
It was a gnawing, tearing sensation in my own being, an emptiness where a soul's vibrant energy should be. They were hollowed out, their true selves replaced by whatever parasite controlled them. It was a sickening, visceral feeling that made my stomach turn. They're just kids, I remembered with a jolt of horror, feeling the twisted, faint echoes of innocent souls trapped within the monstrosities.
Could I change them back?
I didn't actually expect an answer to just... intuitively hit me in reply. Yes, I actually could return them to normal with a heavy expenditure of spiritual energy and a targeted application of my power. The idea was a gamble, but the sheer wrongness of their existence demanded I try.
"Look at em'." Guts hefted his sword as the swarm swerved towards us, stopping when I raised a hand before him. "What are you-"
"They're not the targets. They're victims. Sorry about this, but I can't afford to be precise right now. Brace yourself." Calling upon my Haoshoku, I let it loose and had the invisible wave of sheer willpower blast outward.
The false elves' mid-flight immediately stiffened and dropped to the ground, unconscious, their corrupted souls briefly flashing a brighter grey before dimming. Villagers who had been screaming and running suddenly went slack, collapsing where they stood, their fear abruptly silenced. Guts staggered mid-step, the force hitting him like a wall. He braced his feet and grit his teeth while his sheer willpower fought against mine, his knees bending slightly but holding firm. Theresia was not so lucky. The former noblewoman cried out as the pressure forced her to her knees, her eyes wide with shock.
"Okay, next up..." I commanded the grey souls of the false elves to me, gathering them into a shimmering, coalescing orb of necrotic energy. The corrupted pieces were stripped away, the bright cores of their true selves nurtured and restored. I gently pushed the cleansed souls back into their bodies. One by one, the monstrous forms of the false elves melted away, growing back into their true form of the children they always were. They lay there, unconscious, but human once more... and naked.
Well, this wasn't my problem but this finally left Rosine as the last one to deal with.
As if summoned by the thought, a furious shriek echoed through the air as Rosine, the 'elf' leader, descended from the sky. She was bigger than the others, her wings larger, face set in a mask of pure fury.
"How dare you?!" She screamed, landing in the center of the square. "They were free! They were finally free!"
I stepped forward, putting myself between her and the saved children. The intense reading from her soul hit me like a physical blow, a core of pure, maddened obsession. I took a good look at her—the slightly disproportionate features, the size.
She looks like a child playing dress-up in a realistic monster costume.
Wait. My mind reeled back to the canon story. Rosine was a child. A lost, lonely little girl who had found a Behelit.
"They were not free!" I retorted. "You enslaved them to follow your whims, didn't you?!"
The grim reality of this world, where a child could become an all-powerful monster, hit me hard. But no so hard I missed Rosine gearing up to attack me. I immediately shifted powers, the life-giving aura of the Soul-Soul Fruit replaced by the ultra-flexible feeling of the Gum-Gum Fruit.
Gear Second!
Steam rose from my skin as my body pumped my heartbeat into an accelerated rate, my arm immediately stretching back while my skin reddened with the increased blood flow and my fist Hardened with Busoshoku.
"We'll settle this far from here!" I yelled to Guts.
Gum-Gum... Hawk Pistol!
My fist rocketed forward with blinding speed, connecting squarely with Rosine's chest. She was launched clean out of the village, a small speck rapidly disappearing into the distant sky.
"No pesky interference!" Guts was already sheathing his sword and beginning a dead sprint in the direction Rosine had flown.
"Theresia, stay here." I turned to Theresia, who had managed to get back to her feet. Even if she looked like she might fall over, the fact that she'd stayed conscious at all was impressive. "Watch the children. They'll need help when they wake up."
I didn't wait for a reply, using my steaming rubber body to launch myself into the air, following Guts's trail and the path Rosine had taken. The true battle was about to begin.