The Greatest Disgrace in Marine History Chapter 627 - 146: Azure Dragon Crescent Blade! Serpent Blad

Wine cups rang together as the three giants tore into grilled at and fine drink.

Their camaraderie deepened as Darren, between sips, spun out stories from the outside world that left Dorry and Brogy staring like children.

"To think, all this happened while we were stuck here..." Dorry rumbled.

"So during the God Valley Incident, a lot of Celestial Dragons really died?" Brogy bood.

Darren chuckled. "Almost certainly. I wasn’t strong enough to be there, but the monsters who did clash shook God Valley to the seabed. Plenty of those Bubble Heads had to have perished."

The two giants blinked, then burst into thunder that sounded like laughter.

"Gegyagyagya! Serves ’em right!" Dorry barked.

"Good riddance! Gababababa!" Brogy roared.

Darren smiled.

Resentnt toward the Bubble Heads was the sea’s one shared tongue. The Celestial Dragons’ rot had soured every race. Only Elbaf’s blunt warriors dared say it out loud.

"But Brother Darren," Dorry said, brow creasing, "you keep insisting you’re not much of a Marine. You don’t just shrug at a Celestial Dragon’s death—you enjoy it."

"I told you—I’m no proper Marine," Darren said lightly, tipping his cup. "And as for Celestial Dragons... it’s not like I’ve never killed one."

Both giants froze, then stared at him with eyes gone round. "Brother Darren, you killed a Celestial Dragon?"

"Seriously?" Brogy thundered.

Darren shrugged. "Nothing to brag about. Swine in silk are still swine. I’d rather cross arms with you two any day."

Warmth moved through the giants, loosening muscle and mood alike. Power, humor, straight talk—this brother put Elbaf hotheads to sha.

And he’d brought at and ale.

Perfect.

"By the way," Darren added as they drank, "didn’t your weapons break just now?"

"Don’t fret," Dorry said, easy as a breeze. "They were old—earned their rest."

"Yeah, yeah, don’t worry!" Brogy grinned, scratching at his beard. "We’ll have the old smith make new ones when we’re back in Elbaf... if the codger’s still alive. He was over two hundred when we left!"

Giants lived long. Two or three centuries was nothing if war or plague didn’t take them first.

"This won’t do," Darren said, eyeing their battered helms and nicked cuirasses. "If I hadn’t goaded you, those blades might’ve lasted another twenty, thirty years."

"I’m no master smith," he went on, "but with my Devil Fruit, I can forge you sothing proper."

Their eyes lit on cue.

"Really?"

"That’s fantastic!"

Their simple, guileless delight drew a laugh out of him. Giants loved and hated in straight lines.

"So," Darren said, interest brightening his gaze, "you want the sa styles? Giant sword and axe?"

The two scratched their heads. "We’re not picky," Dorry admitted. "Heavy and tough."

Darren’s mouth twitched.

With strength like mountains, finesse was wasted. Kaido’s "forms" were still swings at heart—force in different directions.

In other words: smash.

He let his eyes roam over Dorry’s long beard and valiant air, then Brogy’s rough blaze of a beard. An idea flickered, wicked and perfect.

"Then let make you custom arms," Darren said, grin going wolfish. "It’s a little unorthodox, but—"

"I trust you, Brother Darren!" Dorry bood, cutting him off with a laugh.

" too!" Brogy nodded hard enough to rattle the ground.

"Good."

He rose without ceremony.

Lightning crawled Darren’s skin as an invisible field unfurled. The earth answered with a deep-bellied groan; fissures raced outward. Far below, ore tore free of the crust and rose, a dark, glittering storm. Under his pull, tal lted, twisted, compacted—two titanic blanks taking shape in midair.

Before the giants could gasp, his wrist flicked.

Whoosh—whoosh!

The half-ford shapes streaked away and dove into the volcanic throat.

Black smoke and fla belched skyward. The crater beca a foundry as Darren’s magnetism refined, purged, compressed. Lightning webbed the reddened tal, carving living patterns into its skin.

When the timing felt right, his eyes narrowed. He crooked a finger.

Whoosh!

Two dark-red lances burst from the crater and speared into the sea.

The ocean hissed and boiled; steam rose in white veils.

"Done," Darren said, turning back.

The giants’ faces were pure, expectant joy.

As the mist thinned, two colossal blades hung in the air, radiating a cold authority, the tal singing with Haki.

Each spanned more than ten ters in length and over two in breadth.

The first was broad and crescent-shaped, half-moon edge with toothy ridges along the spine. A dragon’s head snarled at the base, its gaping maw forming the grip. The whole blade wore a steely blue-black chill.

The second ran lean and wicked, a serpent’s curve in double-edged steel, its keen shimr raising gooseflesh.

"So cool!" they breathed together, eyes starlit.

Darren laughed and nad them. "The first is the Azure Dragon Crescent Blade—handles like your sword, Dorry, but bites deeper, cleaves cleaner."

"The second is the Serpent Blade—double-edged like your axe, Brogy. Quick in the hand, heavy in the arc—split mountains, shatter stone."

He tipped his chin. "See if they speak to you."

Dorry and Brogy seized their gifts and swung. Wind roared up in spirals; dust plud. Grins spread, wider and wider.

Arms folded, Darren watched, satisfied to the marrow.

The "Blue Ogre" with his proud beard and the Azure Dragon Crescent Blade. The "Red Ogre," bristles flaring, with the Serpent Blade coiled in his fists.

They looked every inch the legends they were ant to be.

To be continued...