After his reminder, Whitebeard deliberately leaned in, his massive shadow falling over Ace.
"Did you hear me clearly, boy?" he emphasized again, his voice a low rumble.
"Yeah, got it, Pops..."
Just as the two were talking, Whitebeard's right hand shot out with surprising speed and gave Ace a firm flick on the forehead.
It was just strong enough to send a sharp, stinging pain through his skull without causing any real injury.
"Ow! That hurts!" Ace clutched his head, grimacing.
Even so, he didn't lower his fists or break his stance, knowing this was just Whitebeard's rough way of pushing him to improve.
Looking at this stubborn, hardworking kid who so fiercely wore his heart on his sleeve, a surge of warmth filled Whitebeard's chest.
He quickly suppressed it, his expression returning to one of stern authority.
"By the way," he asked, his voice serious, "have you run into any issues with your Conqueror's Haki? As far as I know, you still can't control it very well, right?"
Faced with the direct question, Ace's confident posture deflated and he lowered his head in awkward silence.
It was true.
Though he possessed the rare ability of a king, his lack of systematic training left him struggling to control it.
It was like a wild, untamed beast within him that only ever emerged in moments of extreme crisis.
"Yeah, Pops," he admitted, his voice barely a mumble.
"I've been trying to find the right way to master it, but I just can't seem to get the hang of it..."
He remembered when he was ten years old, when Luffy was about to be killed by a pirate.
In a blind surge of panic and rage, he had unconsciously unleashed his Conqueror's Haki, knocking out every enemy around them.
He didn't even known what it was until Whitebeard told him.
Ever since then, the power had remained elusive, a sleeping giant he couldn't seem to wake on his own terms.
Whitebeard slowly set down his Murakomogiri.
The heavy blade made a dull, resonant thud as it came to rest against a stone bench.
He turned to Ace, his gaze deep and penetrating, as if he could see right through the young man's doubts.
He then sat down beside him, his movements impossibly gentle for a man of his size.
Ace followed suit, focusing intently on his father's every word.
"Conqueror's Haki..." Whitebeard murmured, a trace of nostalgia in his tone.
"It is a special ability, born from the spirit of a king. Its power is a direct reflection of your own willpower. This power cannot be obtained through simple training, but you can learn to control it through constant practice and tempering of the soul."
Ace listened, his eyes shining with eagerness.
He knew that in this world, beyond the phenomenal power of Devil Fruits, Haki was the true foundation of a warrior's strength.
"So how can I control it?" he asked impatiently.
"At the beginner stage," Whitebeard patiently explained, "Conqueror's Haki is often released by emotional outbursts. The first thing you must learn is to master your own emotions. When you can remain calm and rational in any situation, no matter how dire, you will have taken the first step."
Ace nodded, a flash of understanding in his eyes.
He had been so focused on mastering his flames that he had neglected the power that lay dormant within him.
"I see," he said. "So I need to strengthen my mind as much as my body."
"Exactly," Whitebeard affirmed. "A king's ambition isn't just an attack—it's an aura that expresses who you are. As you face more challenges, your spirit will grow stronger. Remember, true strength lies not just in overwhelming power, but in an unshakable conviction."
The words resonated deep within Ace, filling him with a renewed sense of purpose.
He resolved to no longer rely solely on the fire in his hands, but to find and unleash the king within.
Seeing the fire in the boy's eyes, Whitebeard stood, lifting his bisento.
"Come," he commanded, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Now we train your Observation Haki."
Ace, who was already drenched in sweat and barely able to move, groaned.
"Ah! Pops, it's already dark! Shouldn't we be eating?" His stomach let out a loud growl, the hunger momentarily eclipsing his exhaustion.
"Gurararara! When your body is weak and your senses are screaming—that's the perfect time to train Observation Haki!"
Before Ace could protest further, Whitebeard unceremoniously grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and threw him high into the air.
"Ah! Pops, I'm not ready yet!" Ace cried out, flailing in mid-air.
"Watch carefully, Ace—this strike!" Whitebeard's voice boomed.
Ace's eyes widened in horror.
He saw a faint, shimmering coat of black Armament Haki sheathe his father's massive blade.
His heart leaped into his throat.
"Pops, are you serious!" Ace's voice trembled.
"Feel with your heart!" Whitebeard's voice was strict, the voice of a commander, not a father.
"Judge the trajectory of the blade with your will. Only on the razor's edge between life and death can your true instincts awaken!"
Ace's heart tightened—this was no game.
Taking a ragged breath, he forced his mind into a state of calm.
This was a rare opportunity, a lesson others would die for.
"If you can't dodge this strike, you'll be known as 'One-Ear Ace' from now on!" Whitebeard's tone was teasing, but the threat was real.
Under the intense pressure of imminent mutilation, Ace focused all his attention, pushing his senses to their absolute limit.
His consciousness seemed to expand, entering a bizarre state where time itself slowed to a crawl.
He could hear the chirping of a single night-bird in the distant woods; he could almost see the path of a millipede crawling beneath the leaves on the ground below.
In this strange new state, even with his eyes closed, he could vividly perceive the direction of Whitebeard's attack.
He could feel the air shifting, could predict the blade's path before it even moved.
I see it! I see it! Ace cheered inwardly, a thrill of exhilaration and terror shooting through him.
This was it—the Observation Haki, erupting at the brink of life and death.
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