"First step."
"Spread my Conqueror's Haki."
Tengetsu Ares's body erupted.
A terrifying presence roared out of him as black and red lightning crackled over his frame. A tide of domineering, sun-bright, savage Haki like raging tigers and mad dragons burst from him and poured out like a flood.
In a blink
It swept across the entire island like a storm shredding leaves.
Like a Category 10 hurricane tearing everything open.
Ares muttered to himself, testing and feeling it out.
"I've released my Conqueror's Haki. Now how do I make it actually restrain Observation Haki?"
Right now his understanding of Conqueror's was still the basic kind.
Group intimidation. Single-target intimidation. Knocking out small fry, suppressing weak wills. That much he had already mastered.
But just releasing Conqueror's Haki did not automatically counter future-sight. He still needed a special rhythm and a special insight.
Down below
Redfield, who had just crawled out of the dust cloud, blood at the corner of his mouth, looked up and his face hardened.
"What is that monster doing now?"
"He's releasing Conqueror's Haki at that level… did he really come up with another way to block my Observation in such a short time?"
His wrist still ached. He rubbed it, eyes cold.
"That guy's raw strength is insane. Even with Armament I still got hurt."
"What a monster."
That last exchange had hurt Ares.
But it had also hurt him.
That dragon tail strike was packed with brute force. He could barely take it.
"Huh?"
Redfield's brows rose.
"He's actually coming down?"
"Is he finally going to gamble everything?"
The air was thick with violent Conqueror's Haki.
As Ares dropped from the sky, that savage, demonlike pressure only got stronger.
In his human-beast form, Ares landed in front of him.
"Come."
"Let's go all out."
Ares's golden eyes were bright with excitement. While talking, he was still adjusting the spread, speed, and pulse of his Conqueror's.
He made it wilder.
He made it faster.
He made it crash out of him again and again, waves on top of waves.
Redfield sensed the change at once. His expression changed.
He tried to probe Ares's mind again with his gifted Observation.
This time
It failed.
Redfield's heart shook hard. "His Conqueror's actually blocked my mind-reading?"
Not convinced, he tried again.
Same result. Nothing but roaring Haki.
He couldn't see in.
"This monster…" Redfield's face paled slightly. He had not expected Ares to actually figure it out this fast.
It was broken.
His Observation, the thing that had made him proud for so many years on the seas, was for the first time
Beaten.
And the most humiliating part was that he had watched it happen from step one.
He had literally watched Ares think it through, test, fail, test, fail, and then
Counter him.
Ares grinned. "Redfield, your aura is shaken. That shouldn't happen to a real top fighter."
There was joy in his eyes.
His method worked.
"Now I'm going to shatter your pride."
He charged like a beast, claws spread, the tips of his dragon-like fingers flashing with cold light under the moon.
Redfield raised his umbrella to meet him.
Clang.
At this distance, he could see clearly.
In Ares's golden eyes, there was unshakable dominance and confidence.
Like a king-beast looking down from the top of the food chain.
Like he was just staring at prey.
Redfield's scalp prickled.
Whoosh.
The dragon tail swept in with earth-rending force.
He was forced to retreat and dodge, cold sweat breaking out.
Ares's savage face curled into a mocking smile. "What's wrong? Can't predict me anymore?"
He kept tweaking the frequency and cadence of his Conqueror's Haki, letting the waves of will slam through heaven and earth again and again.
It was as if the whole world was dyed blood-red.
"Don't think that just because you blocked my Observation you can beat me," Redfield said grimly. "I am more than Observation. My swordsmanship is the strongest in the world."
"Yeah?"
Ares's grin widened. "Good. I've got a sword style I've been working on too. Let's compare."
"Let's see whose sword is stronger."
Now that Redfield had lost his future-sight edge, Ares let go completely. No restraint. No holding back.
"Your sword style?"
Redfield snorted. "That crude chopping you do with your arms? To me, that's just muscular brawling dressed up as swordplay."
Yes, Ares's slashes were heavy, violent, destructive.
But to him, that was still body arts.
Not true
Swordsmanship.
Without a sword, how can you call it swordsmanship?
To a proper swordsman, this was simply
A heretical path.
"Hmph." Ares snorted back. "My body is my weapon."
"It is the blade that suits me best."
"Today I'll show you my Blade-Less Style."
His whole body crackled, bones popping, like a dragon roaring and a tiger snarling inside his body.
Blood rushed like metal chains.
Muscles swelled and knotted.
With that dragon-like physique, drenched in Conqueror's, he looked like a war god.
Feeling that raging, dragonlike pressure, even Redfield stopped underestimating him. He looked down on the form, yes
But not on the power.
Ares suddenly lunged, a wild dragon charging. His thick, muscular arm swung down like a crimson demon blade.
It slashed with the power to sweep a battlefield.
"Blade-Less Style. Six Directions Shatter!"
The ferocity of it made Redfield answer with full Armament on his umbrella-sword.
Clang.
The next instant
Ares's other arm turned into a second crimson blade and swept in from the other side.
Pressure roared over him.
"A shadow of Two-Sword Style?" Redfield was startled.
He sidestepped, then stabbed for Ares's elbow joint, clearly intending to cripple the arm.
If Ares could not use his arms, he could not use this "Blade-Less Style."
But
The wind-cry came.
Redfield knew at once.
Dragon tail.
"Three-Sword Style?!"
He was stunned.
One-Sword Style, Two-Sword Style, and now a third from behind?
And you call this Blade-Less Style?
Who are you fooling?!
He pulled back fast. There was no way he was going to tank that tail strike head-on.
But just as he retreated, Ares stepped in, both hands turning into long, blood-red sabers, hacking down with a wind full of killing intent.
In it were traces of what he had seen from Whitebeard's swings.
Traces of the Golden Lion's dual-sword flowing strikes.
Add the dragon tail and there were even traces of Zoro's Three-Sword Style.
You could say he took every sword move he had ever seen, stripped out the essence, and wove it straight into his body combat.
And forged it into his own
Blade-Less Style.
He was saying to the world:
I don't need a sword.
I am the sword.
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