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."

Ohm didn't smile. He raised his hilt, and the Eisen Whip—a blade of shapeshifting iron—extended like a living snake. "The sky is a place of judgment, Blue Sea dweller. Your struggle is merely the sound of a bird flapping its wings before the cage closes." 177 : The Ordeal of Iron! White Barbed Death Ma...

Zoro didn't retreat. He couldn't. To move backward was to be shredded by the "White Barbed" perimeter. Instead, he spun, a whirlwind of steel meeting iron. Clang! "I don't think," Zoro spat, blood trickling down his arm

With a flick of Ohm’s wrist, the Eisen Whip lashed out. It didn't just strike; it curved, defying physics, weaving through the existing mesh of barbed wire to trap Zoro in a collapsing sphere of metal. "I know

Ohm lunged, the Eisen Whip transforming into a massive, jagged fan meant to decapitate. "End of the Ordeal!"

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.