King Neptune's near-pleading shout stilled the battlefield for a heartbeat.
Whitebeard understood his old friend's fear. Dotor Ozz weighed more. There was Roger's bond with Fish-Man Island, and there was what Rayleigh and the others would think. If he insisted on fighting here, shattered the island, and word reached the old crew, they would condemn him. Especially Uncle Scopper.
"No helping it," Ozz sighed, brushing his forelock back. His eyes opened, clear and solemn on Whitebeard. "Then take it to the surface. Winner lays claim to Fish-Man Island. How about it, Whitebeard?"
"Gurararara. Suits me just fine."
Under Neptune's gaze and the Ryugu Kingdom's spearmen lining the ramps, two legendary ships slipped away from the giant bubble and rose toward the light, the Oro Jackson and the Moby Dick.
"Neptune."
The king clenched his trident. The voice at his side tugged him back to the present.
"Otohime."
Queen Otohime, tireless voice for peace between fish-men and humans, stood beside him, hands pressed to her chest.
"You follow the human world more closely than I do," Neptune said. "Who should shield us?"
He already knew the answer he preferred. The older titan, the friend of his youth, the strongest man in the world.
Otohime's Observation brushed the emotions roiling off her husband. She guessed his lean, yet she spoke her own.
"If you ask me, I hope our patron will be the Black Emperor, Dotor Ozz."
"Eh?" Neptune frowned. He could not see why.
"Whitebeard's power and name weigh heavily," Otohime said, "but Ozz is young."
The king's pupils tightened. Cold sweat tickled his brow. Of course. He had neglected the one factor no king should forget.
"And reports say his ties to the World Government run deep. Some whisper he is a Celestial Dragon. For a people who dream of peace with humans, for citizens who yearn to leave the deep, Ozz would suit us better. Those who threaten us might balk at Whitebeard's mark, but that treats symptoms. Ozz's name reaches the root. That is what it means to hold the next era in your fist."
There was one more plea she kept to herself. If she could meet Ozz, she would beg him to turn his networks toward changing hearts and laws, to gut the prejudice that strangled her people. That alone could save Fish-Man Island.
Choice, however, no longer rested with a king and queen beneath the sea. It rode the waves above.
…
"Big news. Big news."
In a hidden newsroom, papers whirled like gulls in a storm. Morgans flapped through the chaos in full beast form. "Where is the Seagull King? Mating season? Cancel it. Strap a camera on him. Coordinates are Red Line's skirt, this barren island here."
…
Mary Geoise, the Pangaea Palace.
"What is that pressure?"
Two crowns of Conqueror's had burst up from the sea at the Red Line's foot. CP0 relayed details, and the Five Elders relaxed their knitted brows.
"Oho. Ozz and Whitebeard."
"Do we intervene?"
"No. If Ozz needs a hand, he will say. Step in unasked and both will resent it."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
…
"This one is big enough. Try not to sink it."
They chose a slab of unclaimed rock large enough to matter. Anchors kissed the shoal. Ozz climbed the beach. Two pairs of eyes followed his back with a twinge of envy.
Crocodile wanted old debts. Whitebeard had taken her hand. Mihawk wanted the summit. Whitebeard might not be a swordsman, but Murakumogiri was one of the supreme blades.
Not today.
On a ridge, Whitebeard raised Murakumogiri. The blade howled down, Haki boiling along the edge.
Ozz could have slipped it. At this height, he refused to act like a gutter pirate.
"I said I would stop calling names, but there are a few that itch if I do not."
Blood sang. He set Ace back, black-red lightning exploding off his frame, then cut forward in a single pure arc.
"Divine Departure."
Earth split. Clouds pitched and tore. Even far off, the backlash snapped Crocodile's coat like a flag.
"Brute strength against brute strength. Conqueror against Conqueror."
On both ships every eye fixed on the duel. They watched two monsters use the simplest tools in the oldest way, muscle and will.
Ozz's conqueror's Haki fell a hair short, but his raw strength pressed Whitebeard a step. For a breath they held there, neither giving.
They broke. Whitebeard recovered in an instant, Murakumogiri blurring, heavy cuts roaring for Ozz. Scarlet light burned in Ozz's eyes.
Clang.
Clang.
He caught every stroke on the dot, gaze never leaving the old titan. Whitebeard's left hand balled. He drew it back. A white quake halo bloomed around his knuckles.
Ozz's mouth curled. His eyes lit with delight.
Good.
He matched the posture. Space twisted tight around his fist. He drove it straight into the oncoming tremor.
Space and quake met, not in ground or sea but in the naked air.
Crack.
The island lurched. Shock ran like a spine through the ocean, waves heaving as if a mountain had fallen.
The sky seemed to tilt.
The strongest Paramecia went head to head. Space versus Quake.
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