"This monster must not be allowed to live!"
Sengoku could feel it in his bones: if Ares were allowed to keep growing, he would one day surpass Rocks becoming the foremost pirate in the world.
Then thunder cracked overhead.
Sengoku looked up, elation flashing across his face before he schooled it into steel. "Garp. Zephyr."
Yes those two.
The uproar had drawn them in.
"That's… the Red Count, Redfield!" Zephyr's heart jolted; surprise flickered in his eyes as he and Garp dropped in at Sengoku's side.
"What's going on? Why is that man here?" he asked.
"He came hunting a Mythical Zoan. Bad luck for him he ran into me. I moved to arrest him and we traded blows. His Observation Haki is monstrous he can not only glimpse the future, he can read a man's heart." Sengoku's voice was grim. His eyes, though, were lit by the gleam of the clashing sword-auras Ares and Redfield were throwing across the field.
He cut a glance at Garp battered, bloodied. The edge in his tone sharpened.
"What happened? Garp's hurt, and not lightly. Don't tell me the two of you couldn't put Ares down."
Garp's mouth twitched. He looked… awkward, and more than a little sore. "I had him. Then the freak suddenly figured out a force-dispersing trick midfight and copied my Armament technique on the spot."
"My fists hit for less; his hit for more. Couldn't cover every angle he caught me with one."
Just thinking of that punch made his face throb. He was Iron Fist Garp he hit other people in the face (or on the head), not the other way around.
And yet…
It stung. It rankled.
"No wonder." Sengoku's brows drew down, then he scowled. "I thought his punches looked wrong. So Ares stole your trick."
The result: sheer suppression, every blow a wrecking ball, leaving Sengoku no room to breathe.
He shot Garp a sidelong, put-upon look. So it isn't just Whitebeard and Golden Lion who 'raised' this monster…
You and Zephyr did too.
His mind flashed back to the report from a year ago Zephyr's duel with Ares. In that fight, the brat had basically cribbed the entirety of Rokushiki in a single bout.
Thinking of how much Ares had taken from Garp and Zephyr how much stronger he'd become Sengoku felt a very real urge to cough blood.
His heart hammered. Frost crept over his face as he ground out, low and cold:
"Zephyr. Garp. Whatever it takes kill Ares, or capture him."
"With that insane learning curve, anything that doesn't kill him will only make him stronger."
"If we let him keep growing, he'll become the strongest monster in the world."
Zephyr's expression hardened. "Agreed. We take him here."
"If we don't, Rocks's crew won't fall. Right now, Marine top-end power is lagging behind theirs."
"And the World Government… is sitting on its hands, like it's cooking up something. I'd rather see us end the Rocks Pirates with our own strength."
Light flared in Garp's eyes. He cracked his knuckles. "Then what are we waiting for? Together!"
He lunged
"Wait." Zephyr caught his arm. "Redfield is no joke. Let him and Ares wear each other down first. That's our chance to bag both Ares and Redfield."
Sengoku frowned, thought it through, and nodded. "Fine. We hold."
If Garp dove in, Redfield would likely peel off the moment Ares tangled him up. If Sengoku or Zephyr struck then, it would all but force Redfield and Ares to fight together.
And there was another worry: the Rocks Pirates who still hadn't shown.
Letting Ares and Redfield fight one-on-one was, tactically, the best option.
Out on the field, Ares was the same rampaging demon as ever. His dragon claws shredded the air; each rake vomited sword aura thick with brute force.
"No-Blade Style Dragon Gale Claw!"
Shkkk!
Dazzling slashes screamed off Ares's talons left and right, a hail of arcs like Gatling fire, breathing room be damned.
Redfield had no choice but to run full tilt and weave for all he was worth.
Boom
Boom
Ares's "slashes" smashed into the earth like shells, detonations rolling one after another and throwing up storms of shattered rock and dust.
In barely ten seconds, Redfield had slipped a hundred killing edges.
"This man is a walking kill-engine everything on him is a lethal weapon." Redfield's face was dark. Even with Observation sharp enough to taste the future, there were simply too many blades coming in blotting out the sky.
For most swordsmen, tossing out sword aura with that kind of destructive power chewed through stamina.
For Ares? It was a gesture a little speed, a little strength. The cost was trivial.
Other people's 'finishers' were just his… wave of the hand.
"Dragon Flame."
Ares opened his jaws. An orange-red fireball blossomed in his throat, flooding the world with hot light.
Redfield's heart kicked. His Haki screamed the warning.
A heartbeat later
A pillar of fire howled from Ares's mouth.
Heat hammered out. The air warped; the stink of scorched earth hit the nose.
Fwoooosh
The surge carved a blackened trench straight across the ground.
"One-Sword Style Parting Seas!"
This time Redfield didn't dodge. If he did, flames would flood the field, turning the world into a sea of fire and shrinking his room to move.
Vmmm!
In a blink, black-violet Armament flared along the umbrella, burning like a living flame.
Redfield cut down.
The roaring blaze split, folding aside and sheeting past him like parted surf.
Power, clean and sharp.
And behind the flame came Ares's rainstorm of slashes.
Redfield spun his umbrella into a bulwark, batting arcs away one after another each that missed went on to bisect trees, shave a hilltop, or plow a long, terrible scar into the earth.
Ting
Clang
Skree
Even so, the pressure shoved him back step by step; his forearms tingled, half-numb. "His slashes are pure dominance power first, last, and always."
"It suits this monster's 'swordsmanship' perfectly."
"This No-Blade Style… give it time, and every Zoan user on the seas will be trying to copy it."
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