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— [Silent_stiele]
*****
The very ground beneath us shattered, unable to withstand the monstrous force that rippled outward as Garp moved. Faster than a cannonball. Faster than lightning. A speed so blinding that even my Observation Haki—honed to a level few in this world could even comprehend—struggled to keep up.
BOOM!
The very fabric of the world trembled. My blade, Shusui, met his Haki-clad fist, and the resulting collision sent a cataclysmic shockwave ripping through Sabaody. The earth split apart beneath our feet, jagged chasms forming as debris was launched skyward like meteors. The air itself distorted, shrieking under the sheer pressure of our clash.
And the sea—the endless, all-consuming sea—recoiled. The waters surrounding Sabaody rose in massive tidal waves, spiraling into the sky before crashing back down with the force of a natural disaster. Ships docked in the distance were blown apart, reduced to nothing but splinters by the aftershock alone.
But I had no time to admire the devastation. Because Garp was already moving again. His left fist—coiled with raw, primal power—was already primed to descend upon me. I could feel the weight behind it, the devastating force packed within that single strike. A fist that had once shattered mountains. A fist that had once cornered the Pirate King himself.
If that punch landed—it wouldn't just break bones. It would cripple me. But I was faster. Akatsuki sang through the air, a crimson arc flashing toward Garp's exposed side. His instincts—sharpened through decades of battle—kicked in. Without hesitation, he raised his arm to defend.
A sharp hiss cut through the battlefield.The moment my blade made contact with his forearm, I felt it. The impossible. I had cut Garp. It was shallow, barely more than a scratch—but it was there.
A single line of crimson beaded against his skin before slowly rolling down his arm. For a moment, the battlefield seemed to hold its breath. The world itself acknowledged what had just happened.
But then— Garp grinned. And it wasn't the grin of a man amused. It wasn't the grin of a teacher pleased with his student's progress. No. This was the grin of a monster who had finally found a worthy fight.
And then—he roared.
The sheer force of his voice sent another shockwave blasting outward, the remaining trees of Sabaody snapping like twigs as the pressure alone was enough to shake the heavens.
The sheer weight of our wills bore down upon Sabaody as our Conqueror's Haki collided, clashing like two celestial bodies vying for dominance. Despite his vast experience, Garp could feel something unnerving—his haki wasn't pushing mine back.
He grit his teeth, refusing to be overwhelmed by the monstrous will he himself had helped nurture. Pride and pity warred within him. Pride in having groomed a warrior capable of matching his own haki head-on, yet pity—for himself, for the Marines, for the bitter reality that he had failed to keep me within the ranks of justice.
Because deep down, he knew. The moment I was branded a criminal, it wasn't because of my own crimes. It was because of my bloodline. Marineford—years ago. The World Government had decided that a man who shared the same blood as Donquixote Doflamingo was a threat, regardless of whether I had committed any crime. That was their justice.
And Garp had failed to stop it. His failure had set me on this path. And now, he had no choice but to stand against the very monster he had helped create.
Despite the overwhelming pressure between us, the fight was so fast that few could even perceive what was happening.
Garp's fists came down like a gatling gun, each one strong enough to obliterate an island. Hundreds of punches in mere seconds, a relentless, inhuman barrage.
But my blades moved just as fast if not faster. I countered every strike, meeting his overwhelming brute force with pure, unmatched skill. Our movements blurred into a storm of destruction, shockwaves tearing apart the mangrove structures of Sabaody as each impact sent massive ripples through the air and sea.
At our level—where both of us could wield Conqueror's Haki to counter future sight—the battle wasn't about prediction. It was about instinct. And as each moment passed, it became clearer—Garp was stronger, but I was more skilled.
It was a stalemate. A deadlock that could last for days. Neither of us was showing signs of slowing, our reserves of haki and stamina vast beyond comprehension. But I knew—it wouldn't stay like this forever.
Someone would slip. Someone would falter. And the first to do so would lose.
"BLITZKRIEG!!!"
Garp roared as his body vanished. Using Soru and Geppo in perfect synchronization, he shot into the air, creating instant distance before his entire body twisted, his fists cocked back.
And then— The sky fell.
A blinding storm of punches rained down from above, each strike so devastating that the air around his fists superheated, creating compressed air bullets that howled through the sky.
Each punch was a meteor.
A thousand blazing fists descended in less than a minute, engulfing the entire grove beneath me in a relentless bombardment. I moved like a phantom, my body shifting to its absolute limit to counter every single one.
The ground beneath me cratered, the very air igniting as each impact sent waves of destruction surging outward. But Garp wasn't just throwing them wildly—every punch was calculated, placed to force me into disadvantageous positions.
Even one solid hit would leave me crippled. Even missing a single one would break bones.
But the moment the last meteor fist came hurtling toward me— I seized the momentum.
Haki surged. Black lightning crackled. Both my blades—Akatsuki and Shusui—glowed with an otherworldly aura, their edges wreathed in the black storm of my haki.
And then— I unleashed it.
"ITEN NICHI RYUU—TWIN DRAGON ASCENT!!!"
Two colossal dragons—one black as the abyss, the other crimson as blood—erupted from my blades, their forms twisting through the air like divine beasts called to end the heavens.
Their roars shook the world, the very fabric of the battlefield trembling as the titanic sword wave streaked toward Garp, who was still midair.
His eyes narrowed. He felt it. This wasn't just a flying slash. This was an execution. But Garp wasn't one to evade. No—he took things head-on.
His body darkened, every inch of his form turning pitch black as his entire being was wrapped in a level of Haki so absurdly dense that the very air around him screamed. And then, his right fist ignited in unholy blue flames.
"BLUE HOLE…!!!"
The world exploded. A blinding pillar of blue light erupted from his fist, illuminating the night sky like daytime, casting its glow over the seas for miles. The very heavens cracked.
The flying slash, infused with black lightning, roared through the air, struggling with all its might to overpower Garp's devastating attack. For what felt like an eternity, the two forces clashed, the very sky trembling under their immense pressure. But in the end, the sheer indomitable will behind Garp's Blue Hole proved superior—his fist shattered through the sword wave, breaking it apart as if tearing through the heavens themselves.
The two dragons collided with his punch—And ceased to exist. Like they had been swallowed whole. The sheer force of the impact didn't just shatter the grove I stood on—it sent an unimaginable shockwave tearing through the entire archipelago.
The mangrove trees split apart, entire sections of Sabaody being torn from their foundations and hurled into the air as if a god itself had decreed their destruction.
And then—
A massive hole opened in the ocean itself. The sea sank, a vast, gaping abyss in the water where the force of Blue Hole had literally crushed the ocean away.
As the impact subsided, Garp stood amidst the devastation, his massive frame unmoving, his knuckles still smoking from the overwhelming force he had just unleashed. His gaze lifted to meet mine.
And I realized— He wasn't even close to done.
The ground beneath my feet crumbled like brittle stone, unable to withstand the sheer force of the battle unfolding. The night sky, once serene and endless, now crackled with the furious clash of black lightning and burning blue flames, splitting apart the very heavens as if the gods themselves had turned their eyes upon this battlefield.
Garp, the legendary Marine Hero, the man who had once clashed with the Pirate King himself, stood across from me—his stance solid as an unshakable mountain, his fists wrapped in a density of Haki so powerful it distorted the air around him. The very world seemed to kneel beneath his presence, an aura of absolute dominance and power radiating from every fiber of his being.
But I was no longer the child he once trained. With both Shusui and Akatsuki clenched tightly in my grasp, my own Haki surged like an unyielding storm, tendrils of black and golden lightning crackling around my body.
Every breath I took was like inhaling fire, the sheer intensity of the battle pushing me past my limits. This wasn't just a fight—this was a clash between two titans, two wills unrelenting, two forces destined to collide.
And then, we moved simultaneously to resume the clash. Garp was fast—unbelievably fast. Despite his massive frame, he closed the distance in an instant, his fist hurtling toward my face like a meteor, the pressure alone splitting the earth beneath his feet. I barely had time to react, twisting my body to the side, feeling the shockwave of his punch tear apart the air where my head had been mere milliseconds ago.
I countered immediately, my right blade whipping upward toward his ribs. The cursed edge of Akatsuki sang through the night, its hunger for battle almost tangible—but Garp, with movements honed through decades of war, brought his forearm down, blocking the blade with nothing but his skin.
Sparks exploded. The impact sent a tremor through my arms, and before I could recover—
BOOM!
Garp's knee drove into my stomach, the force behind it like a battering ram against my ribs. Pain exploded through my core, my body launched backward like a cannonball. The moment my feet touched the ground, I forced myself into a roll, barely avoiding the follow-up punch that obliterated an entire mangrove tree behind me, turning its massive trunk into nothing but splintered dust and debris.
I retaliated without hesitation. Using the momentum of my dodge, I pushed off the ground, blurring forward faster than the eye could track. Shusui slashed in a diagonal arc, the blade's edge coated in jet-black Haki, moving to cleave through Garp's flank.
But the old man's instincts were honed beyond perfection. Garp twisted at the last possible second, his right fist crashing downward against the flat side of my blade, redirecting its force just enough to send the attack off-course. Before I could adjust, his left hook came out of nowhere—aiming straight for my temple.
My swords crossed in a desperate block, but the sheer weight behind his strike sent me skidding back, my heels carving deep trenches into the broken ground. The force of the clash ruptured the air around us, sending a shockwave that rippled across the entire grove, obliterating structures and sending smaller trees flying into the sea.
This wasn't just brute strength. This was Garp's mastery of combat—the ability to read and adapt in mere moments, making even the deadliest opponents falter. But I wasn't done yet.
I pivoted sharply, my left foot digging into the shattered ground as I unleashed—
"Twin Rashomon…!"
From the tips of my cursed blades, two colossal flying slashes—one as black as the abyss, the other crimson like freshly spilled blood—erupted with a deafening shriek, their cresent shaped energy twisting through the air like forces of nature incarnate. They spiraled toward Garp with enough force to rip through mountains, their forms carving through the night sky, illuminated by the crackling storm of Haki that surrounded them.
Garp didn't move. Instead, he planted his feet firmly, his body darkening as he coated himself in an armor of pure Haki, his muscles tensing as if preparing to shoulder the weight of the world itself.
And then—he punched. The impact of his fist meeting my attack sent a flash of blue flames bursting into the sky, so blinding that for a moment, it seemed as if the sun had risen in the dead of night. The world held its breath as my twin slash collided with his legendary strike.
For a moment, the two forces clashed in equilibrium—unstoppable will against unbreakable might. The very air howled, the shockwaves radiating outward, tearing through what remained of Sabaody's mangroves, sending tsunamis cascading into the sea, causing even the sky itself to shudder under the pressure.
And then, the inevitable happened. With an earth-shattering BOOM, Garp's fist once again broke through my attack, shattering blade energy into millions of dissipating embers. The remnants of the attack were absorbed into the spiraling vortex of energy surrounding his punch—and then he came for me.
I barely had time to raise my blades before his fist slammed into the steel—the impact so powerful it felt as if an entire island had crashed into me at once.
I flew back, crashing through solid rock and debris, my body breaking through one mangrove root after another, until I finally stopped, buried beneath the wreckage of what had once been part of Sabaody's towering trees.
Everything was silent for a moment. The dust settled, the only sound the crackling embers of our clashing Haki still lingering in the air.
And then—I rose. Blood dripped from my temple, my breath ragged, my body screaming in protest—but my grip on Shusui and Akatsuki never wavered. Garp watched me carefully, his legendary grin still present, but there was something different in his gaze.
For the first time, Monkey D. Garp looked at me not as his student… but as his equal.
I grinned, wiping the blood from my lip. "Hah… old man…" I exhaled, the weight of the battle pressing down on my shoulders, but my spirit burning brighter than ever.
"…I'm not going down that easy."
Garp's grin widened.
"Good."
And then—we charged again.
****
A few dozen miles away from Sabaody Archipelago, what was once a bustling, chaotic paradise of piracy, trade, and corruption had been transformed into a nightmarish wasteland. The island that once thrived under the artificial lights of the mangroves now lay buried beneath an abyss of darkness and destruction.
A storm of power unlike anything the world had ever seen surrounded the entire battlefield—black, golden, and crimson lightning danced in the air like vengeful deities, twisting and spiraling into a colossal vortex of pure Haki. The once-distinct outlines of the towering mangroves were barely visible, their forms now little more than charred ruins, obliterated by the repeated clashes of titanic willpower.
To the observers on the sea, Sabaody was no longer an island—it was a death zone.
Close to a dozen battered Marine warships and hundreds of ragtag vessels belonging to merchants, pirates, and fishermen floated at a tense, perilous distance from the island. Every ship, no matter its flag, had been filled to the brim with evacuees, a chaotic mixture of criminals, civilians, and Marines alike, all fleeing the wrath of the titanic battle that continued to rage without pause.
The evacuation had been swift and absolute—Garp's command had left no room for hesitation, and anyone still clinging to the island was either already dead… or far beyond saving.
It had now been more than two hours since the battle between Monkey D. Garp and Donquixote Rosinante had begun. And even from this great distance, the observers could still feel the violent tremors that rocked the very ocean, could still see the relentless flashes of golden and black lightning illuminating the swirling stormclouds above.
The Marines wanted to advance closer—they were the World Government's might, the law that ruled the seas—but they couldn't. The sheer pressure of the Haki clashing within the battlefield had become so overwhelming that even the strongest ships trembled under its weight.
The very waves of the ocean were being warped and distorted, surging and crashing violently as if rejecting the presence of anything unworthy. Any ship that got too close risked being torn apart before even reaching the shore.
And the worst part? Even the Admirals on board were in no shape to fight.
Admiral Sakazuki—Akainu—was completely unconscious, his body battered and soaked in blood, his once-imposing figure now resting limply against the deck. The wounds he had sustained were grievous, his infamous durability having finally met its match. Even with emergency medical attention, the massive blood loss had left him in critical condition.
But while Akainu lay silent, Admiral Ginshimo remained alert, his eyes never straying from the distant hellish inferno that was once Sabaody. His fists were clenched so tightly that blood dripped from his palms, his jaw locked with frustration. He had already contacted Marine HQ, and Fleet Admiral Sengoku had assured him that reinforcements were on their way.
But Ginshimo could only wonder—what good would they do? This wasn't a battle where reinforcements mattered. This wasn't a fight where the presence of a fleet could tip the scales. What was happening in Sabaody was far beyond the realm of ordinary warfare.
Ginshimo had fought Rosinante himself mere hours ago, and even with all his strength, all his experience, he had been utterly overpowered. Now, knowing that Rosinante was locked in combat with Garp himself, he could only ask himself one terrifying question:
"If Rosinante really wanted to flee… could even the Marine Hero stop him?"
And what disturbed him even more was the mystery surrounding Rosinante's powers. Ginshimo knew Rosinante had consumed a Logia-type Devil Fruit, the Lightning-Lighting Fruit, but there was something else at play—something more. When he had fought Rosinante at the auction house, he had felt another presence near the shore—another power entirely which resembled the legends of lightning logia.
And if that wasn't unsettling enough… Where was the rest of Rosinante's crew?
Unlike the Marines, who had prioritized safety, another ship had chosen to brave the chaotic seas, refusing to abandon its captain.
A massive galleon, its tattered black sails whipping violently in the storm, struggled against the monstrous waves that crashed against its hull. Every second, the timbers groaned and cracked despite it being infused with haki, the overwhelming Haki radiating from the battlefield causing the very structure of the ship to tremble.
Despite Rosinante's orders to retreat, the ship remained dangerously close to Sabaody. Standing at the bow, gripping the railing with white-knuckled intensity, was Rob Lucci.
His usual calm and calculated demeanor had been replaced by something rare—unease. His instincts, sharpened over years of life-or-death combat, screamed at him in warning. He had felt it the moment the battle had shifted—the moment that overwhelming presence had arrived.
Even though he had complete faith in his master's strength, the aura exuding from his opponent made him feel something he hadn't in years—helplessness. Beside him, Dora, the giantess, was gripping the ship's massive wheel, her hands trembling as she struggled to keep the vessel from being thrown into the chaos of the surrounding waters.
"Damn it… this is insane…" she muttered under her breath, her eyes flickering toward the blackened storm where Sabaody had once stood. "Just what the hell kind of monsters are fighting in there…?"
Lucci didn't answer. He already knew the truth. This was a battle between two men who stood at the very apex of this world.
Just then, a new wave of tension rippled through the air where the marine fleet was anchored. A second fleet of Marine warships appeared on the horizon, their sails billowing in the wind, reinforcements sent by Marine HQ.
At their helm stood Admiral Raylene, her golden eyes narrowed as she took in the absolute devastation before her. The aura surrounding Sabaody was unreal, the sheer pressure of the battle still raging within causing even the sea itself to tremble.
But as she and the fleet drew closer, the truth became undeniable— They could do nothing.
This was not a battle they could intervene in. Even if they launched their strongest attacks, even if they unleashed the full force of the Marine fleet, it would be like throwing pebbles at a storm.
A deep frown settled on Raylene's face.
"Even with everything we have… even with an entire fleet…" she thought grimly, her grip
tightening on the railing.
"We are completely powerless in the face of this battle."
The Marine reinforcements had arrived. But the outcome of this war would be decided by only two men. And somewhere, deep within the heart of the storm, the clash between Garp and Rosinante raged on—unrelenting, unstoppable, and world-shaking.