177 : The Ordeal Of Iron! White Barbed Death Ma... -

"I don't think," Zoro spat, blood trickling down his arm. He dropped into a low stance, three blades now drawn, the Wado Ichimonji clamped firmly in his teeth. The air around him seemed to thicken, not with mist, but with sheer intent. "I know."

"The thing about iron," Zoro said, sheathing his swords as the Priest of Skypiea collapsed into the clouds, "is that it eventually meets someone harder." 177 : The Ordeal of Iron! White Barbed Death Ma...

Zoro stood at the center of the Milky Road, his boots crunching on the strange, frozen clouds. Before him stood Ohm, the Sky Breeder, his presence as cold and unyielding as the iron he commanded. Between them lay the "White Barbed Death Match"—a chaotic web of invisible, razor-sharp iron wires that hummed with a low, predatory vibration. "I don't think," Zoro spat, blood trickling down his arm

"I see your heart," Ohm droned, his dog Holy sitting motionless behind him. "It beats with the rhythm of a man who thinks he can cut anything." "I know

"You call this an ordeal?" Zoro grunted, the hilt of Shusui heavy in his hand. He adjusted his bandana, his single eye tracking the slight shimmer of the wires. "Back home, we just call this a bad neighborhood."

Zoro leaped, not away, but directly into the heart of the barbed storm. "108 Pound Phoenix!"