The Marines who were sent flying crashed into walls and trees before sliding down to the ground — every single one of them was either severely injured or killed outright.
Shojo and the others finally got a clear look at Zephyr's current state. Aside from the massive crimson arm, now bulging with prominent red veins, his originally short purple hair stood straight up and stiff.
Most striking of all were his eyes: pupils gone, vision unfocused, the whites completely swallowed by blood‑red irises. He looked exactly like a demon risen from hell.
Grimm looked at Zephyr, now fully dominated by the Demon Hand, and shook his head.
"Truly tragic… the Admiral famous for 'Not Killing' has taken his very first life… and it was one of his own students. I wonder what you'll think when you eventually regain your senses and realize what you've done?"
He knew Zephyr possessed immense willpower, but the first time one received the Demon Hand, no matter how strong their resolve, they were destined to lose control.
And given Zephyr's already terrifying strength, the destruction he could cause while rampaging was unimaginable.
"What do we do now, Major Shojo? Look at Instructor Zephyr…!" the Marines cried out, panic‑stricken.
They had just watched Zephyr kill several men instantly. Logically, they should have moved to arrest or shoot him immediately — but this was Zephyr.
One of the Marines' strongest fighters, and their own beloved teacher. How could they possibly bring themselves to do such a thing?
"That bastard Grimm… what has he done to Instructor Zephyr?!" Shojo gritted his teeth in rage. Even a fool could see that this was all Grimm's doing.
"We must retreat for now. Gather all forces later and try to restrain Instructor Zeph—"
SWISH!
Shojo was about to give the order when a blood‑red figure suddenly appeared right in front of them.
The other Marines were so terrified their jaws literally dropped open. Shojo turned mechanically to face the figure, and found himself staring straight into those blood‑red eyes.
"In… Instructor Zephyr…?"
BOOM!
Shojo spoke with great difficulty, but the only answer he received was a fist soaked in fresh blood.
Shojo was blasted away like a cannonball. He coughed up blood while flying through the air, traveling nearly a kilometer down the main street before crashing into a tall tower.
The thirty‑meter structure collapsed instantly under the impact.
The new generation of Marines revered Zephyr deeply — and the veterans were no different.
Even someone like Borsalino would only ever say "I don't really like him" rather than disrespect him as "that old man."
Shojo belonged to the group of Marines who admired Zephyr the most.
Yet now, they could never have imagined that one day they would be attacked — or even killed — by their own teacher, even if he had lost his mind.
And that punch just now… its power was vastly greater than anything Zephyr had ever displayed before.
"Instructor Zephyr! Please, stop… AAAAAHHHH!!"
"Reinforcements! Send reinforcements! Stop Instructor Zephyr!"
"Alert everyone! Get here immediately!"
"Instructor! What is happening to you?! AAAAHHH!!"
The screams of the Marines and the sounds of Zephyr's relentless assault clashed like a chaotic symphony, echoing in Grimm's ears.
"He isn't attacking me… he's just destroying everything in his path. Has he truly lost all reason, Zephyr?" Grimm muttered to himself.
Suddenly, just as Zephyr was about to strike down another Marine, his raised fist froze mid‑swing.
Blood began to seep and drip from the surface of the Demon Hand. His face twisted in agony; he clutched his head and groaned in pain.
"Jus… tice…"
Faintly, barely audible, two words escaped his lips.
"HEY! RUN! GET AWAY NOW!"
A Marine, standing fifty meters away and narrowly escaping death, shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Ah… r‑right! We're going!"
Whatever happened, they had survived for the moment.
The remaining survivors began to retreat toward the main force. While fleeing, they spoke in terror:
"What on earth has happened to Instructor Zephyr?!"
"It must be that damned Grimm! Report this immediately to command! This situation is way beyond our control now!"
Zephyr held his head tightly, struggling to suppress the rampage within. Yet the killing intent rising in his heart was overwhelming.
He scanned the surroundings, completely ignoring the soldiers in blue uniforms who were running away.
Instead, his scarlet gaze locked onto the only person present not wearing Marine attire: Grimm.
"Jus… tice!!"
In his madness, he roared the word through his agony and charged straight at Grimm.
"Some reason remains… you're choosing to target me instead of the Marines, huh?"
Grimm raised his greatsword and blocked Zephyr's punch. The resulting shockwave swept outward, flattening every building nearby.
"But the difference between us… in how we use this power… is simply too vast!"
Grimm effortlessly deflected Zephyr's momentum. Zephyr's own force carried him stumbling past Grimm.
At that exact moment, Grimm stepped behind him, drove his blade deep into Zephyr's back, and followed up with a powerful kick that sent Zephyr's massive body flying away.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
He crashed through countless buildings along the way before finally coming to a halt. Grimm watched from a distance.
"Is the Demon Hand making you unable to even use Observation Haki properly… Zephyr?!"
CRACK…
Several kilometers away, buried under piles of rubble, Zephyr shattered the rock and stone covering him.
He climbed out, locked onto Grimm's position, and blurred forward in a terrifying charge.
As he rushed, he gathered his own blood and shaped it into a long, jagged sword.
"Oh? Blood Aura? That is… quite interesting!"
Grimm's eyes shifted slightly. He suddenly changed direction — instead of standing his ground, he began running toward the area where the Marines had just retreated.
Seeing Grimm flee, Zephyr — fully consumed by the infection — didn't think twice. He simply focused every ounce of his being on the hunt and gave chase.
At the southeastern edge of Altdimir City…
With King Scal's permission, the Marines had established a temporary headquarters here to defend the capital.
Right now, countless soldiers lay seriously wounded, receiving urgent treatment.
CRASH!
The sound of something being knocked over echoed, followed immediately by a nurse's urgent voice:
"W‑wait! Vice Admiral Sakazuki! Your shoulders haven't healed yet! The wounds are still open and fractured!"
Sakazuki stormed out of the operating room, his face twisted in irritation. Several doctors and nurses hurried anxiously behind him.
In an instant, every Marine in the base turned their eyes toward him.
"Ugh… this is such a nuisance!"
Sakazuki glared fiercely at the nurses following him and snapped: "Men are fighting and bleeding out there! Do you think I have time to rest and recover slowly?!"
He raised his arm — bones not yet set, wounds still fresh — and roared:
"Listen up, everyone in this base! I don't care if you are injured or not! If you can still walk on your feet and lift a weapon with your hands, you will march out with me! Even if you die fighting on the battlefield… it is still better than cowering here in cowardice!"
That was Sakazuki. What was normally considered "rest and recovery" he described as "cowering in cowardice."
Strangely enough, his speech won immediate support and boosted morale drastically.
Many soldiers — wrapped in bandages, some still hooked up to IV drips — stood up instantly, grabbed their weapons, and prepared to fight.
__________________
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