As the commotion gradually subsided and the dust slowly settled, a scene of complete devastation ca into view.
The ground stretching thousands of ters was utterly ruined, riddled with cracks and craters of varying sizes. The surrounding trees and vegetation had all been uprooted, and in so places the earth was scorched black.
Many of the hills along both sides of the road had been flattened or blasted apart, leaving the area far more open than before.
Matthew hovered in midair, looking down below.
Within those fractures, faint flas flickered, while the old man stood calmly on a relatively intact patch of ground among them.
The earlier clash of energy clearly hadn't caused him any harm.
Matthew's gaze shifted from the old man to the flas burning within the cracks at his feet.
He could sense that they weren't ordinary flas. Not only were they extrely hot, but they seed to carry so other effect as well—at the very least, his instincts warned him not to co into contact with them.
"A remarkable ability. Your physique is quite special—you can control the power of light. You're sowhat similar to those bird-n."
While Matthew studied the flas, the old man noticed his scrutiny and was not stingy with his praise.
In truth, the compressed beam of light energy Matthew had unleashed earlier had nearly been impossible to block. It was a highly concentrated form of light energy, and its power was astonishing.
Yet what puzzled the old man was that he couldn't sense any inherent source of light energy within Matthew.
Instead, Matthew seed able to freely shift between a physical body and light itself.
This was entirely different from his own state. His body was rely a projection—a manifestation of consciousness and energy, a false flesh created through projection magic.
It did not bleed, nor did it feel pain.
Such a peculiar body. No wonder that greedy ogre Nehemah was both salivating over and repulsed by Matthew's form.
Because of this, the old man's interest in Matthew had only grown—from seeing him as a collectible to now desiring his body and soul entirely.
To forge him into a warrior that belonged solely to himself.
With that thought, the old man slowly rose into the air, leveling himself at the sa height as Matthew.
"Are you interested in this?"
He raised a hand lightly, and a wisp of fla floated up from the crack in the ground, settling into his palm.
"It seems capable of burning the soul. The only thing I can think of is Hellfire," Matthew said, the flickering fla reflected in his eyes. Then he looked at the old man. "That's not sothing an ordinary demon can control."
"Haven't you already guessed who I am?"
"To wield Hellfire, to favor making deals with humans, and to be called a Demon King—there's only one in legend. phisto."
Matthew gave his answer, his gaze sharp and unwavering.
With those clues, even without any mories from a previous life, deducing phisto's identity wasn't difficult.
"You've already figured out who I am, yet you still maintain such a strong desire to fight. What a strange human."
phisto was surprised. The young man before him had clearly identified him, yet there wasn't a trace of fear—if anything, he seed even more eager to fight.
What was this supposed to an?
Did he really see him as prey?
What did the na phisto represent? In mythology, religion, and folklore, he was the very embodint of power and terror—the ruler of Hell, the sovereign of countless demons.
To Matthew, however, that fearso reputation seed to carry no weight at all.
Since that was the case, he would have to make this youngster understand what the na phisto truly ant.
"Co~"
phisto extinguished the hellfire in his palm and flicked his fingers, signaling for Matthew to attack, his posture filled with condescension.
Yet that disdainful attitude did not anger Matthew.
Instead, he grinned, and the fire burning in his heart surged even higher.
"I'm starting to like you a bit, phisto."
Boom!
As his words fell, he stomped his right foot, and the air itself burst into a shockwave. Matthew shot forward toward phisto.
His right hand clenched into a fist, coated in a dark sheen as it drove toward phisto. He did not choose to use the Glint-Glint Fruit this ti.
phisto saw through Matthew's intent. Raising his cane, he swept it forward with imnse force.
Fist and cane collided, detonating a ring of air in midair.
But it didn't end there. Matthew's fists, wrapped in Armant Haki, unleashed a torrent of attacks like crashing waves, while phisto responded in kind without yielding.
In an instant, continuous shockwaves erupted across the sky.
Each explosion thundered like rolling lightning.
If the earlier exchange had been a test, then the battle now was like dancing on the edge of a blade.
No magic, no Glint-Glint Fruit energy attacks—only the purest form of close-quarters combat.
As a Demon King of Hell, phisto was far from being soone who only relied on magic or soul manipulation. Having lived for countless years, he had fought and clawed his way up through Hell, ultimately bearing the na of Satan. His combat experience and technique were exceptionally rich.
From the very mont Matthew engaged him at close range, he was almost imdiately pushed into a disadvantage in that regard.
There was no doubt that Matthew was well-rounded. He had mastered all three types of Haki—especially Observation Haki, which could anticipate an opponent's next move, making it a near ga-breaking ability in real combat.
At the sa ti, he also possessed the Six Powers.
This was a supre martial art forged and refined by top fighters of the pirate world, pushing the human body beyond its limits, granting Matthew precise control over strength and movent.
But that didn't an Matthew was invincible in real combat.
On the contrary, what he lacked was experience at this level of battle.
In his previous fights, he had simply relied on overwhelming stats to crush his opponents.
That was his weakness.
And it was precisely why Matthew craved high-intensity combat. Even knowing that the old man was phisto, his fighting spirit remained undiminished.
The Glint-Glint Fruit undoubtedly gave him a massive boost in battle.
However, overreliance on a Devil Fruit could instead beco a hindrance to growth.
Just as Admiral Zephyr once said that Kizaru relied too heavily on his fruit ability.
Zephyr did not look down on Devil Fruits.
Many of his students possessed such powers, yet he always taught them not to depend on them—because real combat was the best catalyst for growth.
Every punch that landed, every life-and-death struggle, every injury—all of it tempered the body, the will, and Haki in the best possible way.
Matthew could indeed rely on the Glint-Glint Fruit to fight phisto.
He could even defeat this energy projection of phisto using it—but what of it?
Winning that way would only deepen his understanding and developnt of the fruit.
What he truly sought was to excavate and strengthen himself. Only by becoming stronger on his own would the Glint-Glint Fruit amplify his power even further.
Matthew understood that only this kind of brutal, flesh-to-flesh combat could make his body stronger.
It would accelerate his mastery of Observation Haki, expand the applications of Armant Haki, and perhaps even allow him to grasp the advanced form of Conqueror's Haki—Conqueror's Coating.
In short, the beauty of raw power is the true beauty.
...
Read Advanced Chapters on : spatreon/cw/OblivionTL
~ Every 100 PS = Bonus Chapter!
~ Push the Story forward with your [Power Stones]
User Comments
0 comments from readers