A massive volume of swamp surged madly from the swamp arm pinning the first monster, bursting outwards from its previous confines. Instantly, even more swamp flooded forth, flowing down and completely covering the monster restrained beneath the arm.
In the blink of an eye, a small swampy mound had formed, utterly burying the monster's body!
"Solidify!"
A small hillock took shape instantaneously. The black monster was compressed within the hardening swamp, its body deforming under the pressure – confirming Wilder's suspicion that it lacked bones or flesh.
The mound solidified completely, sealing the black monster within it, leaving not even the slightest gap.
However, wisps of black gas continuously seeped out from the surface of the solidified swamp, dissipating into the air without a trace.
Wilder "saw" the scene inside the mound with his Observation Haki – the monster itself had vanished.
Before he could ponder this further, attacks from the other twenty-odd monsters swarmed towards him. Low, hoarse roars, sounding as if they originated from the depths of hell, echoed relentlessly in Wilder's ears.
Instantly, two of the monsters extended enormous black claw-like arms from their amorphous bodies, reaching out to grab him!
Wilder employed the same method as before. Torrents of swamp erupted from both his arms, shooting outwards like two massive, elongated streams. They collided head-on with the incoming black claws.
Even the slight impact sound seemed amplified in the tense silence. The swamp silently climbed onto the two black claws upon contact, instantly enveloping and covering them.
"Solidify!"
A series of sharp cracks echoed as the swamp hardened, compressing the captured claws with immense force and cohesion. Once solidified, the swamp became as hard as rock.
Wilder dropped back to the ground, then launched himself into the air again with a powerful kick, using Moon Walk to evade several other grasping black appendages. He appeared directly in front of the two monsters whose claws were now trapped in hardened swamp.
Swish!
Two brilliant white arcs of light flashed across their midsections! Both black monsters were instantly sliced in two at the waist. Their upper halves, propelled by residual force and inertia, were flung high into the air!
Although Wilder hadn't practiced Tempest Kick extensively, mastering Moon Walk and Shave had led him to naturally grasp the technique. Still, compared to Claire, his Tempest Kick was rudimentary at best. Those two white arcs were indeed the result of him using the move.
The two massive black monsters, now in four pieces, crashed heavily to the ground. But almost immediately, thin wisps of black mist emerged from the clean-cut surfaces. The severed halves of the monsters began to writhe and squirm, rapidly converging. In moments, they had seamlessly reformed into complete, unharmed bodies, identical to before, without even a scar.
"Immortal?"
Wilder frowned, his eyes flashing with thought.
He leaped again, dodging a barrage of dozens of giant black hands whipping through the air, weaving expertly through the gaps in the assault. He landed firmly on a massive tree trunk, his gaze fixed on the monsters below.
"Great Swamp Heaven!"
An immense volume of swamp erupted from Wilder's body. A terrifyingly huge morass rose high into the air, forming a thick, viscous tidal wave that crashed down upon the monsters!
The swamp wave churned with thick, cloying bubbles as it swept over the creatures, instantly washing them away and then completely submerging them within its depths.
The black giants thrashed and struggled within the heavy, suffocating swamp, but it was utterly futile.
Perhaps others would find these monsters incredibly difficult to deal with, but beneath Wilder's swamp, everything could only be swallowed! Even if they couldn't be harmed, even if they couldn't die – so what? He would just bury them all!
This was why, after only a brief test, Wilder hadn't hesitated to use Great Swamp Heaven, a technique that consumed considerable stamina. Against these particular monsters, it was simply the most efficient solution.
However, surprises always seemed to arise when least expected. Although the swamp had engulfed the monsters, plumes of black smoke began to rise from its surface, just like with the first creature. And then, all the monsters vanished without a trace.
Wilder watched this unfold, frowning deeply in thought. He had a distinct feeling that the monsters' disappearance – both the first one and these – wasn't death… it felt more like… they had escaped.
That black smoke… For some reason, ever since the monsters had appeared, Wilder had felt a strange agitation deep within his being. A tremor originating from the depths of his soul, an inexplicable pull – he didn't know if it was towards the monsters, the black smoke, or perhaps both.
It wasn't just his soul that felt restless; his swamp power itself seemed agitated. His Devil Fruit ability was an extension of his soul, the link between his spirit and the power of the swamp. What was the connection here?
"Soul…"
Leaving behind that thoughtful whisper, the jungle fell silent once more.
When Wilder finally reached the shore, Ashin and the dozens of crew members were gone. Only the Black Serpent remained, resting quietly by the shore, the gentle waves washing against its hull.
The crack in the ship's bottom had been repaired. The shoreline was eerily quiet. The reflection of the silver moon distorted into a tangled knot in the rippling water, then shattered into countless fragments.
Much like Wilder's current expression – turbulent and uncertain.
Ashin wouldn't disappear without reason, nor would he allow the crew to vanish simultaneously. Whatever had happened, they had undoubtedly encountered something.
Was it the monsters? Or…?
After pondering for a moment, Wilder left the Black Serpent and headed straight back into the jungle towards the town.
Returning silently to his room at the Small Home Tavern Inn, Wilder immediately summoned the others.
"Ashin has disappeared."
Ignoring the shocked expressions that appeared on their faces, Wilder quickly asked if any of them had noticed anything unusual during his absence. Receiving negative replies, he turned and headed directly downstairs. The others, after a moment of stunned silence, scrambled to follow.
Barrett was still behind the bar, polishing glasses. It seemed he had an endless supply of them to clean.
Wilder glanced around the tavern as he descended the wooden stairs – still completely empty.
Without a word, he walked straight to the bar.
"Mr. Wilder… and everyone?" Barrett looked up, slightly startled. "Still awake so late?"
"Same to you, Mr. Barrett, haha," Wilder replied, forcing the fakest smile imaginable and laughing dismissively.
"Ah… just have to earn a living, you know," Barrett chuckled nervously, his eyes crinkling even tighter into crescents.
"But your tavern seems deserted, Mr. Barrett. The town as well. I really don't understand why you need to work so hard earning money."
"Well… one must always earn money, mustn't one? Otherwise, how can one live?" A tiny bead of sweat appeared on Barrett's forehead, so small Wilder almost missed it.
"Are you feeling warm, Mr. Barrett?"
"Yes, a little."
Wilder nodded slowly. He lit a fresh cigar, and within moments, smoke swirled thickly around the bar area.
"What kind of guests," Wilder asked, his voice suddenly low and level, "are you entertaining?"
"What?" Barrett looked up, startled, meeting Wilder's utterly emotionless eyes.
"I asked…" Wilder continued, his voice chillingly calm, "are these monsters currently filling this room also your guests, Mr. Barrett?"