On the other side of the battlefield, Weevil had already gained a massive advantage.
The three Zoan-type Devil Fruit users were being pushed to their limits. Huge, gaping wounds had been carved into some of them by Weevil's massive blade. If not for the natural durability of Zoan fruits, they might have already been cleaved in two. They were bleeding profusely, their movements growing sluggish, their reactions dulled—they were teetering on the brink of death.
Then, a sudden change. The three exchanged glances, as if coming to a silent agreement.
The boar-form user lunged recklessly at Weevil, ramming his sharp tusks into the great blade to lock it in place. The monkey-form user leapt high into the air, swinging his iron staff down at Weevil's head. At the same time, the pangolin-form user vanished from sight, leaving behind only a gaping black hole in the ground.
Faced with this coordinated assault, Weevil shifted his great blade to his left hand and clenched his right into a fist—his arm now covered in an inky sheen of Armament Haki—and swung it upward toward the descending staff.
Weevil had recently grasped the basics of Armament Haki. Though he could only coat parts of his body for now, it was already formidable. His natural affinity for it was extraordinary; in just a few days, he had learned to apply it effectively in battle. His immense physical strength met the minimum requirements, and his constitution allowed him to awaken the technique with almost no effort—it was as if Haki came to him instinctively.
The punch landed with monstrous force. The monkey-form user was sent hurtling backwards in a wild, spinning arc, flung away at incredible speed.
Weevil didn't even watch him land. Switching his grip to both hands, he poured his full strength into his spinning great blade, shattering the boar-form user's tusks in an instant.
But danger struck from behind—sharp claws lunging up from beneath the ground toward his back. Weevil's instincts roared to life. He dropped forward, using one hand as a pivot, flipping his body upward so his chest faced the sky, and slashed toward the attacker above him.
The pangolin-form user, convinced he had landed a fatal blow, even wore the beginnings of a grin—until he realized Weevil was suddenly below him. In the next heartbeat, the great blade cleaved across his wrists.
A spray of blood followed. One claw, covered in thick scales, hit the dirt with a thud. The awkward angle of Weevil's strike and the pangolin's natural defenses meant it wasn't a killing blow, but without that, both arms might have been severed.
Clutching his severed limb, the pangolin rolled away.
Now, all three Zoan users were in a pitiful state.
One had lost his right hand, blood gushing freely from the stump—without immediate aid, he could bleed out entirely.
Another had lost both tusks down to the roots, blood pouring from his mouth while jagged fragments had torn deep cuts into his fur-covered face, leaving it a bloody mess.
The monkey-form user, though outwardly uninjured, had suffered massive internal damage from Weevil's blow. His whole body ached, and he coughed blood with every breath.
They had believed that a sudden, combined assault of layered killing strikes would be enough to overwhelm this dim-witted young man. Instead, their surprise attack had been completely nullified, and they had been grievously wounded, while Weevil remained unscathed.
Fear flashed in their eyes. They knew that if the battle continued, their lives would end here. Another shared glance, another decision made.
This time, Weevil was prepared, standing ready for their charge. But instead of attacking, the three broke in different directions in a sudden bid to escape.
One bounded toward the city outskirts.
The boar-form user dropped to all fours, sprinting for the cover of the forest.
The pangolin-form user dashed a short distance, then began frantically digging into the soft soil, disappearing underground.
Weevil stood frozen for a moment, startled by the sudden retreat. That hesitation gave them precious seconds—but once he reacted, he launched into the only technique he knew from the Six Powers: Soru. In a blur, he appeared behind the monkey-form user mid-leap and brought his great blade down. The sword pierced clean through the unguarded target, splitting him apart as his lifeless body tumbled from the air.
Without stopping to check, Weevil turned to the fleeing boar-form user. Using Soru again, he appeared directly in front of him. In the boar's wide, terrified eyes, the blade came down in a vertical arc, cleaving him clean in two.
That left only the pangolin. But by the time Weevil reached his location, there was nothing but a deep, dark hole. Without the ability to burrow, he couldn't follow.
Instead, he poured all his strength into a single mighty slash aimed at the edge of the pit. A massive trench split open along the hole, and from deep below came a roar of pain before silence fell. When the dust settled, Weevil could see only scattered patches of blood in the churned earth—no body in sight.
With Weevil's battle decided, the fight elsewhere had also turned in their favor. The enemies facing Lafitte, Dadi, and Kuro were panicking, glancing around wildly, movements sloppy and uncoordinated.
Lafitte seized the opportunity, delivering swift, lethal blows that dropped several of them.
Dadi took his chance as well, firing without restraint and bringing down more foes.
Kuro struck unexpectedly while they were distracted, taking out a martial artist stronger than himself.
Once Weevil finished off his opponents, he glanced at Buggy's side of the fight, then charged straight toward Lafitte's group. His arrival sealed the enemy's fate—some tried to flee in all directions, others made desperate last stands, but all met the same end: cut down by Weevil's blade or struck down by his allies.