Zéphyr shattered the illusion of his students without a moment's hesitation.
Rett slipped back into the mist, murmuring under his breath.
"Pure illusions, poison, solid projections… none of it works. Looks like I'll have to mix in something else."
Zéphyr's eyes narrowed as Armament Haki instantly coated his arms, the black metallic sheen flashing in the sunlight.
"Brat, don't get too cocky!"
"Hahaha, now that's more like it!" Rett roared with laughter. In the blink of an eye, he appeared right in front of Zéphyr, the Blacktide Blade wreathed in crimson blood-mist as it came crashing down.
"Fog God Style: Blood Slash!"
Zéphyr did not dodge. Instead, he swung his right fist forward with brutal force.
"Crusher Style: Heavy Fist!"
The collision detonated with a thunderous boom, the shockwave obliterating the deck beneath them, splinters flying in all directions. The naval recruits stumbled back, staring wide-eyed at a battle far beyond their comprehension.
Rett flipped backward, landing lightly as fighting spirit burned in his eyes.
"As expected of the Black Arm! But still…"
Zéphyr snorted coldly. With a sudden burst of power, the deck beneath his feet exploded as he launched forward like a cannonball.
"Pirate, how long are you going to toy with me? Accept the judgment of justice!"
"Crusher Style: Tempest!"
"Zéphyr, your punches are slower than that old geezer Garp's!" Rett jeered as he dodged, his grin deliberately infuriating.
"Don't you dare compare me to that old bastard!" Zéphyr roared, his strikes becoming even fiercer, another iron fist aimed squarely at Rett's face.
Rett's eyes tightened.
Damn, old man, do you have a grudge against my handsome face or what?
The blood-mist hardened into a shield just in time.
Bang!
The shield shattered again, but Rett used the impact to push himself back, sweeping his greatsword in retaliation.
"Fog God Style: Demon's Assault!"
The black slash ripped through the air. Zéphyr crossed his arms, Haki hardening to take the blow, but he was still forced back several steps, his boots gouging twin furrows into the deck.
"Tch. Damn martial artists… what a pain." Rett shook his wrist, smiling wider. "But that just makes it fun."
(Translation note: Rett is deliberately flippant here, his voice carries sarcasm and mockery, which I've preserved.)
"Weren't you the one coughing blood just now? What's with this sudden burst of energy, huh?" Rett added in mock annoyance, laughing to himself.
Zéphyr's breathing had grown heavier, but he surged forward again, refusing to yield. The two clashed repeatedly across the deck, each impact shaking the warship so violently that the recruits had to cling to the railings to avoid being thrown overboard.
As the battle dragged on, Rett suddenly smirked.
"Zéphyr, your students are about to collapse."
Zéphyr's gaze flicked to the side. The recruits were already staggering, their bodies rattled by the shockwaves. A few had even lost consciousness.
It couldn't be helped. This was the Naval Academy's training class knowing two or three Rokushiki techniques was enough to graduate. They hadn't even left the beginner's stage, and now they had stumbled into a clash with a sea monster-level boss. In a way, this was more experience than they could ever bargain for.
But the fight wasn't going to stop just because they couldn't keep up.
By the dawn of the fourth day, no light broke through the blood-dyed sky, only a suffocating crimson mist.
Zéphyr's arms were still cloaked in thick Armament Haki, but his breaths came ragged, wheezing like a broken bellows. Each inhale carried the metallic tang of blood.
The recruits clutched their weapons, trying to stand firm, but their faces were pale with despair. Their pillar of strength the legendary Black Arm was barely holding himself upright on trembling legs.
"Cough… cough, cough…" Zéphyr spat out blood mixed with fragments of flesh. His sunglasses had long since shattered, exposing bloodshot eyes burning with stubborn fury.
The sea mist surged violently.
From within the crimson fog, Rett emerged, the Blacktide Blade resting lazily on his shoulder. His face was calm, almost cheerful. After four days of battle, this monster wasn't even breathing hard.
I've got hacks!!! shouted his inner voice.
If I hadn't been experimenting with new techniques, how could he have lasted this long? It's only because I'm holding back.
"Zéphyr," Rett tilted his head, smiling, "how's the body holding up?"
"You bastard." Zéphyr seized an opening and slammed a fist into Rett, sending him sprawling. Rett lay flat on the deck, motionless.
Zéphyr's frustration boiled over. His Observation Haki had been smothered this entire fight whenever he caught a flicker of Rett's presence, he couldn't even tell if it was real.
(It was. Rett was just too damn fast.)
Crack!
The illusion he struck crumbled like glass. Suddenly Rett was standing right in front of him again. Zéphyr's pupils shrank in horror. Even now… this brat had been toying with him the whole time?!
"Tsk," Rett clicked his tongue. "Not enough. A few minutes isn't good enough. I'll have to extend it further."
The Blacktide Blade swept in a simple, black crescent arc. No flashy name. No unnecessary release of power. Just the cleanest, most basic slash.
"Impossible…" Zéphyr's world tilted, the scenery rushing away as blood sprayed from his chest. His prized Armament Haki had failed him.
Clang!
His body slammed against the warship's wall before sliding down, kneeling against the shattered deck, gasping heavily.
His arms still trembled, faint traces of Haki flickering over his skin, but his strength was nearly gone.
"Teacher Zéphyr!" the recruits cried in horror. They had never seen their instructor the once-mighty Black Arm reduced to such a state.
Rett stood above the blood-mist, sword lowered, his lips curved in a mocking smile.
"Quite respected, aren't you, Zéphyr?"
Zéphyr gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright. "Cut the crap… pirate!"
Before he could charge again, one of the young marines darted past him.
"Don't touch our teacher!!!"
The boy's fists, weakly coated in Haki, swung straight at Rett.
Then another rushed forward. Then another. Every recruit who could still stand planted themselves in front of Zéphyr. Their eyes no longer held fear, only resolve.
"We won't let you take another step!"
Rett blinked, then laughed.
"Hey now, you rookies… what exactly are you planning to use to stop me?"
"Even if it costs our lives… we'll protect our teacher!" the lead recruit shouted, voice cracking.
Zéphyr's heart clenched, his chest tightening. "Idiots! Fall back! You're no match for him!"
But the recruits stood their ground.
Rett looked at them silently, his blood-red eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion.
"…Interesting." His voice dropped. He raised his hand.
A tidal wave of scarlet aura swept across the warship. In an instant, every recruit collapsed unconscious.
"Bastard!" Zéphyr roared, his eyes bloodshot.
What, do I look like the villain here? Rett muttered in his head. Don't slander me!
Aloud, Rett only smiled faintly. "Relax. They're just asleep."
He sheathed the Blacktide Blade and rose into the air, borne by his mist. "Zéphyr, your students… they're not bad at all."
Zéphyr froze, his fists loosening as he looked down at the unconscious recruits. His chest swelled with conflicting emotions rage, frustration, but also… a flicker of pride.
"Rett…" His voice was hoarse. "What the hell do you want?"
Rett's figure drifted away, crimson mist swirling around him. His voice carried faintly on the wind.
"Just thinking… if all marines were as stupidly stubborn as them, the seas of the future might not be so boring."
And with that, the golden staircase unfolded at his feet. Rett stepped onto it slowly, returning to the Bluemarine Jackson.
Silence fell over the warship, broken only by the sound of waves slapping the hull.
Zéphyr knelt down, checking his recruits one by one. When he confirmed they were only unconscious, he exhaled long and hard. To his surprise, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"…Fools."
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