"That little brat..." Gaban frowned as his twin axes crashed against Doflamingo’s jet-black strings, sparks spitting from the impact.
In that blink of distraction, Darren and Roger had already plowed into the jungle, their duel flattening trees and hurling up clouds of dust.
Gaban moved to pursue, but a crimson glint flickered at the edge of his vision. He snapped his head aside.
Tch!
A barrage of Haki-laced strings sliced a lock of his hair and gouged a hundred-ter trench through the earth.
"Didn’t I make myself clear? You’re fighting now," rasped the arrogant voice.
"You’re courting death, kid," Gaban growled, turning to face the blond youth in the pink feather coat. Black lightning from Armant Haki crackled along his axes. "You know you don’t stand a chance against ."
Doflamingo panted, a feverish flush rising to his face. "Heh heh heh. Of course I know."
He stared at Gaban—third in command of the Roger Pirates—while that overwhelming aura kept rising. A crooked grin split his face.
"But I’m certain of this... if I hadn’t stopped you here... he would’ve killed , right?"
Gaban paused, surprise flickering in his eyes. For a heartbeat, pity touched his gaze.
So fear of that man—or a desperate need for his approval—outweighs fear of death? Pathetic little brat.
But—
"You have your convictions, and I have mine."
He dropped his stance, feet driving into the ground. Dirt burst behind him as he vaulted forward like a charging tiger.
"Then don’t bla for not holding back!"
"Heh heh heh heh heh!"
Doflamingo laughed and shot into the sky like a crimson flamingo. Retreating in a rush, he flicked his wrist, sending a massive orange-red whip scything across the island’s empty sky.
"Super Impact Whip!"
As the whip howled through the air, he stiffened, startled to feel his Haki subtly shifting—hardening with a strange new resilience.
---
On the Oro Jackson’s deck, the crew braced and scrambled, ducking the relentless torrent of slashing arcs that carved the air.
"Aaaah! We’re all gonna die!" Buggy wailed, clutching his head as razor flashes scread past.
"Damn it!" Rayleigh barked, cleaving two shrieking arcs with a single stroke, chest heaving.
As the four fought on the island, the four blades that had started as re warnings suddenly turned savage.
Rayleigh’s expression tightened. A cold bead of sweat slid down his temple.
Four interwoven streams of sword light—too fast to follow—relentlessly hunted the Oro Jackson and her crew.
They struck from bizarre, unpredictable angles. Each blow detonated with a shockwave that shattered the air, the velocity clearly past the speed of sound.
From afar, the ship looked swallowed by a storm of sword-shadows, hull rattling as if it might capsize beneath the hurricane of blades.
Even Rayleigh, formidable as he was, felt the strain. Forced to move at full speed again and again to shield his comrades, he struggled to keep pace with the onslaught, his breath growing tight.
The blades were directing almost all their fury at the ship and the weaker hands—Shanks most of all.
What was this?
Co to think of it, the first ti they’d crossed paths with Darren, that brat had tried to kill Shanks and Buggy. Did Shanks have so grudge with that Marine? That made no sense...
Rayleigh exhaled, slashed aside two more beams—then his face changed.
A jet-black arc erupted from the sea of sword light, accelerating with terrifying speed—straight for Shanks.
Damn it... I won’t make it in ti!
Shanks felt death close on him. His face went bloodless. His body locked.
His pupils shook as he roared inwardly:
Move... my body... MOVE!
The black arc bore down.
"Aaaaaaah!" Shanks roared.
Boom!
As if sothing shattered, a vast force erupted from him.
Rayleigh’s eyes flew wide.
The crew stared, stunned.
Conqueror’s Haki... awakening?!
With his Conqueror’s Haki awakened, Shanks crushed the terror in his chest and wrested back control of his limbs.
But the black arc was already upon him.
Too late—
Dazed, he gritted his teeth, seized the nearest body, and yanked it in front of him.
"Aaaaaah! Shanks, you bastard!" Buggy howled, thrashing—then the black flash sheared his head clean off.
His severed head, still livid, spun toward the gasping Shanks. "Trying to kill ?! This isn’t over!"
Shanks managed a sickly grin, face chalk-white.
Before anyone could react, the black light whipped back around and ca screaming at them again.
"Watch out!"
"Save Shanks!"
"Damn it!"
...
The crew—including Rayleigh—cried out, faces draining. The black light had suddenly grown ten tis faster.
Shanks could only watch as the razor beam hurtled in, unstoppable.
A heavy despair filled his eyes. Why was that Marine so intent on killing him?
Then—
A calloused hand shot past his shoulder, Armant Haki flowing like liquid over the forearm. Fingers spread wide and clamped down on the black blade.
BOOM!
The figure was blasted back ten ters by the impact, wooden geta exploding to splinters on the deck.
What...?
Everyone stared, dumbstruck.
"Oden-san?!" Shanks gasped.
Drip...
Drip...
Scarlet drops pattered from Kozuki Oden’s single arm onto the planks.
Blood sared the corner of his mouth. His hair hung in disarray. His kimono was filthy and stank of sake. He looked like a ruined, wandering samurai.
Eyes dull and lifeless, Oden crushed the trembling blade in his grip. Regret and despair flickered across his numb face as he rasped:
"Enma..."
To be continued...
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