Davy Jones snapped out of his thoughts and turned his gaze toward the massive corpse of the Hobgoblin lying across the ground.
He would never forget the most essential skill of a pirate—
the art of plundering treasure from the dead.
His sharpened Observation Haki perception was like a needlepoint held before his eye.
Even though the Hobgoblin was stone-dead, he could still sense that the fla-like aura it had wielded hadn't completely faded.
It was that aura which had suddenly strengthened the Hobgoblin's body, raising its power beyond that of an ordinary elite monster.
So then—where had that aura co from?
Davy Jones prowled around the corpse like a vulture, until his gaze stopped on one of the monster's horns that remained intact despite its shattered skull.
Both of its horns were golden, the tips razor-sharp.
One had been crushed beneath Mikita's ten-thousand-kilogram stomp, but the other still jutted from the skin of its scalp.
Davy Jones' tentacles coiled forward once again, wrapping around the surviving horn. After twisting it back and forth to loosen it, he finally wrenched it free.
He raised his brow slightly in surprise. A warm aura flowed from the Hobgoblin's horn into his tentacle, restoring a touch of his stamina.
But only for a mont. Soon after, the horn ceased to offer him any more energy. Clearly, this ability had certain conditions for activation.
Even so, the recovery it provided was minor—barely a sip of water to a man dying of thirst. Perhaps it would be more useful in another's hands.
His gray-blue eyes swept over the faces of his crew, making each of them stiffen instinctively.
At last, his gaze fell on the uneasy Mikita. Extending a tentacle, he handed the Hobgoblin horn to her.
Startled and uncertain, Mikita accepted it, then heard him say:
"You delivered the finishing blow to the Hobgoblin. This spoils belongs to you. Study it well—you may uncover unexpected rewards."
The yellow-hatted girl was flustered, almost overwheld by the recognition. She froze for a heartbeat before hastily replying:
"Y-Yes! Thank you, Captain."
Davy Jones disliked needless pleasantries. He simply said:
"We rest here for ten minutes. Then we move on."
Ten minutes later, the crew departed the Hobgoblin's lair and pressed onward through the tunnels.
The first floor was nothing but caverns and passageways, the environnt heavy and oppressive.
Along the way they cut down more foraging monsters.
At first, Mikita hadn't noticed what use the Hobgoblin's horn might have. But after several battles, she realized her stamina was not depleting as quickly as usual.
That's strange… Could it be that whenever a monster dies nearby, the horn restores a little of my energy?
The truth seed to be exactly that.
The recovery was slight, but better than nothing.
Only then did Mikita truly grasp the horn's value, and for the first ti, she felt genuine gratitude toward Davy Jones.
After more trekking, the crew finally reached a vast, open chamber.
"This must be the very top of the first floor," Alvida remarked.
She still rembered the mural that depicted the Spire's interior.
Though it hadn't shown the exact layout of the tunnels like a map, it had revealed the tower's overall structure.
Between the first and second floors was a vast space—just like this one.
Kuro nodded in agreent, adjusting his glasses.
"Let's search. The entrance to the second floor should be nearby."
But just as the crew began to spread out, a thunderous rumbling erupted from the smooth stone wall.
The stalactites hanging from the cavern ceiling quaked and broke loose, crashing to the ground in fragnts.
Davy Jones looked upward—
and saw a massive hexagonal stone slab protruding from the wall, larger than a dozen Hobgoblins combined.
Sohow, it floated into the air by an unknown power.
"Bloody hell!" Buggy cursed, his red nose twitching. "Everything in this place is cursed—now even stone slabs are coming to life!"
The crew, after everything they'd faced so far, couldn't agree more.
From the slab's edges, purple flas suddenly ignited.
The fire grew fiercer and fiercer, until the slab itself blazed like a sun hanging over their heads.
The pirates imdiately felt its heat. Sweat poured from their brows, armpits, and backs, soaking their clothes.
Boom!
A fireball appeared above the hexagonal slab.
Boom!
Another erged.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Soon, six fireballs whirled around the floating slab, crackling and roaring, dazzling the crew's eyes.
This was the first floor's great boss—
the Six-Fla Wraith!
The six fireballs moved as if alive, orbiting the slab before darting toward the crew, spewing purple hellfire!
The pirates were caught off guard.
They scrambled to dodge, but the blasts were too wide. Buggy, Hacchan, and Mikita all had their clothes ignited, flas racing across them.
Buggy panicked, but kept his wits—dropping to the ground and rolling to smother the fire.
Hatchan and Mikita followed suit, thrashing on the ground.
But the flas refused to die out, only dimming slightly, still burning.
The searing agony left their faces pale as paper.
"Stay calm."
Davy Jones appeared like an anchor in the storm. Three of his tentacles extended, gathering streams of water that sprayed over the burning crew.
With a hiss of steam, the flas were extinguished at last.
The three lay on the ground, clutching their scorched wounds, utterly disheveled.
anwhile, the Six-Fla Wraith seed to realize who its true enemy was.
The six fireballs turned as one, streaking toward Davy Jones and spewing their purple inferno.
But he blinked out of the way, teleporting past the flas. Rather than waste ti fighting the fireballs, he leapt straight toward the Wraith's core—the hexagonal slab itself!
Armant Haki coated his arm like black iron armor. Suspended in midair, he stretched his body taut, coiling power into his right fist, and then struck with explosive force—
slamming directly into the slab's center!
Crack!
A thunderous impact rang out, spiderweb fractures spreading from his fist.
Davy Jones pressed the attack.
Four tentacles shot out, stabbing deep into the slab to anchor him in place. He drew back his fist, once again cloaked it in Armant Haki, and hamred the fractured core!
Boom!
The first punch had cracked it. The second blow shattered it like firewood, breaking the slab into countless pieces.
The purple hellfire that had sought to consu him suddenly withered, shrinking into harmless embers before vanishing entirely.
The six blazing fireballs lost their vitality, dissolving into wisps of smoke.
The fragnted remains of the Six-Fla Wraith's slab plumted, crashing to the ground like the ruins of a collapsed house.
The crew stood in shock and awe.
The stone construct that had nearly overwheld them—
their captain had destroyed it with just two punches.
Buggy, however, grasped the truth most clearly.
If he wasn't mistaken, Captain Davy Jones had just used the sa Armant Haki that even Captain Roger himself wielded!
From the rubble, sothing unusual tumbled free.
Davy Jones bent down and picked it up—a pentagonal stone tablet.
It was not part of the hexagonal slab he'd destroyed, but rather a separate piece—an ancient relic that had been embedded within.
Studying the carvings, he could vaguely discern star-like patterns, perhaps the tracks of celestial bodies. But its purpose remained a mystery.
Once again, he turned toward his crew.
This ti they understood his intent, eting his gaze with eyes full of expectation.
They all knew—
anything that dropped from the Six-Fla Wraith must possess so special power.
In the end, Davy Jones handed the relic to Buggy.
"Take it. Study it well."
Buggy, who had been gritting his teeth in pain from his burns, suddenly brightened. He accepted the relic with a wide grin and offered thanks.
Then, smirking proudly, he looked around at the others, his cocky expression making them all itch to knock him down a peg.
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