Bang!
The wooden doors of Shakky's bar flew open as Ritter strode inside, the massive blade Black Tide – Blood Dragon's Calamity resting on his shoulder. Scarlet mist swirled lazily around his figure as if announcing his arrival to the world. He carried himself with that infuriating grin that made people want to hit him.
"Yo, Uncle Rayleigh! Auntie Shakky! Guess what my Black Tide sword has had a little makeover!"
At the counter, Rayleigh nearly dropped his drink. His hand trembled, spilling amber liquid across the bar before he managed to steady it.
From behind her cigarette, Shakky squinted at him with a smile that was equal parts amusent and warning. "Well, if it isn't our little gossip machine Ritter. You still know how to make an entrance."
Ritter swaggered up to the bar, plopping himself onto a stool like he owned the place. He let the greatsword float beside him on a cushion of mist and tapped the counter. "Shakky, it's been years and you're still as beautiful as ever. I swear, ti doesn't touch you."
"Save that nonsense for the girls who don't know better," Shakky replied smoothly, flicking ash into the tray. She let her gaze linger on the greatsword, then added, "But I'll admit, Ritter… this blade of yours is sothing else. I've seen my share of famous weapons, and this one's got real craftsmanship. It's only missing one thing: the reputation and your aura to match it."
"That's not a rumor," Ritter said with wide, innocent eyes. "That's what I call… reasonable deduction!"
Rayleigh shoved a glass of orange juice toward him with a dark look. "Drink. And don't test my patience, brat."
Ritter made a face but sipped anyway. Then he turned and surveyed the bar with exaggerated casualness. "By the way, old man, how about a spar? I ca all the way here just for that."
Before Rayleigh could answer, the curtain leading to the kitchen rustled. Fisher Tiger stepped out with a tray of dishes. "Who's making all this noise "
He froze mid-sentence, eyes locking onto Ritter's.
"Tiger?" Ritter blinked.
"Ritter?" Fisher Tiger set the tray down with a heavy thud, his expression caught between surprise and concern. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you that," Ritter said with a lifted brow. "Why are you in Shakky's bar?"
Tiger sighed, shoulders lowering. "I ca to ask Rayleigh for help."
And in that instant Ritter realized what was happening. This was that ti. The mont when Fisher Tiger would climb the Red Line and free the slaves of Mary Geoise. Ritter rembered reading about it: the impossible feat of escaping the holy land of the Celestial Dragons. Impossible… unless soone powerful lent a hand.
Ritter's mind ticked quickly. Even with Tiger's strength, breaking through the defenses of the Celestial Dragons was madness. Those slaves were broken, malnourished, beaten into submission. They had no fight left in them. Without support, they wouldn't make it ten steps.
There had to be soone backing him. And Ritter's gaze drifted toward Shakky.
She exhaled a ring of smoke and said matter-of-factly, "It was that little Hancock girl. She told Tiger to find . In her world, I'm the big sister who can solve anything."
Tiger nodded earnestly. "I t the three sisters in Mary Geoise. They're just children… but Hancock told her eldest sister, Shakky, would know a way to save them. And when I saw Rayleigh here, I knew the chances of success were even greater."
Ritter's grin faded into understanding. Yeah, this tracked. Rayleigh wasn't the kind of man to invite chaos for nothing. If Hancock had asked… of course he would move.
Rayleigh pressed a hand to his temple. "You're just in ti, Ritter. Tiger's going to scale the Red Line and cause a distraction. Shakky and I will be the backup. You " his gaze hardened "will get the Hancock sisters out safely. Consider this a favor to ."
Ritter smirked. "Oh, co on. Since when do I owe you for saving strangers? Hancock and her sisters aren't even related to !"
The words were cheeky, but Rayleigh knew Ritter well. Beneath that grin, Ritter already understood. The four founding mbers of Roger's crew Roger, Rayleigh, Jabba, Ritter had long since crossed the line from comrades into brothers. Rayleigh didn't need to ask twice.
"Uncle Rayleigh," Ritter said at last, stretching lazily. "Relax. Of course I'll help. But if I do the saving, you'd better pour a drink afterward."
"Brat," Rayleigh muttered, veins throbbing at his temple.
"Just kidding," Ritter laughed, leaning toward Tiger. "Hey, big guy, climbing a cliff that size isn't easy. Why not step on my mist instead? I'll carry you up smooth as silk."
Before Tiger could reply, Shakky's hand ca down in a swift chop to Ritter's head. "That's enough. Save your tricks for when it matters. Think of this as your sister owing you a favor."
"Ouch! Shakky, you hit harder than Garp!" Ritter clutched his head dramatically, though the sparkle in his eye betrayed how much he enjoyed it. For Ritter, these monts felt like family the kind he never wanted to lose.
Rayleigh poured him another drink with a long sigh. "Now, tell , brat. What are you really here for?"
Ritter caught the glass, and for once his smile softened into sothing serious. "One thing only."
Later that day, in the open yard outside the coating workshop of Sabaody's Grove 13, Ritter stood opposite Rayleigh. His blood-red mist curled across the ground like a living sea, and his sword glead with restrained hunger.
Rayleigh adjusted his glasses and gave him a weary look. "You're going to make regret this. My old bones can't take the sa punishnt they used to."
"Don't give that," Ritter snapped back, his grin wide and reckless. "Ever since I got this blade, I haven't had a real fight. I'm dying to test it out. Co on, Vice-Captain!"
Rayleigh's lips twitched upward. "So there's no talking you out of it, huh?"
"Not a chance!" Ritter slamd the greatsword into the ground. Blood-mist surged outward like a tidal wave, swallowing the yard in a suffocating haze. "Show you haven't gotten rusty!"
The duel began.
"Blood God Style Dragon Dance!"
The mist coiled and solidified into dozens of writhing crimson dragons, their fangs bared as they lunged from every direction. Ritter had spent countless hours refining the technique. Each dragon carried not only cutting force but also a paralyzing toxin harmlessly dulled for this spar, of course.
Rayleigh chuckled as his sword flashed black with Armant Haki. "Your tricks are sharper than before. But "
In a flash of golden light, he blurred through the storm. His blade sliced with precision, unraveling the dragons one after another. Mist hissed as it hit the ground, eating away at the soil with corrosive burns.
Rayleigh's brows furrowed. "So that's it. Poison hidden in the fog. You sly brat."
"Not bad, huh?" Ritter's voice echoed from everywhere at once.
The ground beneath Rayleigh's feet turned to liquid mist. Scarlet hands clawed upward, dragging him into a swamp of blood. From above, a rain of crimson spears descended like a deadly storm.
"Blood God Style Crimson Rain Massacre!"
Rayleigh's eyes lit with a sharp gleam. He spun in place, golden sword light erupting in a perfect circle. "Dark King Round Waltz!"
The wave of energy shredded the swamp and spears in an instant. But Ritter was already behind him.
"Got you."
Rayleigh's eyes widened as he realized too late the figure he'd been tracking in the fog was only a phantom. Ritter's true body surged from the mist behind him, greatsword raised high.
"Never trust what you see in my fog," Ritter whispered with a wicked grin. Then he brought the Black Tide down with the force of a falling mountain.
The clash shook Sabaody to its roots.
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