If there were ever a Warlord of the Sea who truly took his job seriously, that title would go to Gecko Moria.
At least, that's how the Navy saw it.
The Florian Triangle blocked a huge stretch of ocean on the route to the Sabaody Archipelago.
Pirates heading toward Sabaody who strayed too close would often have their shadows stolen by Moria himself.
When the World Government established the Shichibukai system, the goal wasn't only to balance out the three great pirate crews of the New World, but also to use the Seven Warlords as a countermeasure against the ever-growing number of pirates.
Yet after gaining the title, few Warlords actually fulfilled that duty.
Except Moria—who, while cooped up in his eerie Florian Triangle, unintentionally did the job perfectly. The countless pirates who wandered into his domain never made it out again.
However, the perpetually recluse Moria never imagined someone would come knocking on purpose.
The moment Don's ship entered the ghostly fog of the Triangle, he had no patience for Moria's zombie horde. Wrapped in blazing fire, he charged straight through, clearing everything in his path until they reached the Thriller Bark.
There, Moria stood on deck, his enormous body trembling with tension as he stared at the approaching figures.
Gone was the lean physique from his days fighting Kaido—now he was round, bloated, and sluggish.
"Mihawk… what the hell are you doing here?" Moria's voice rumbled.
He didn't recognize Issho or Don, but the world's greatest swordsman—his fellow Warlord—was unmistakable.
Behind Moria, a few trembling lieutenants and an army of zombies stood at attention.
Mihawk cast him only a passing glance, saying nothing. His golden eyes swept the deck, locking onto a distant figure. Slowly, he reached for the hilt of Yoru.
Seeing this, Moria's expression darkened, and his hand lifted in readiness to strike.
BOOM!
A surge of Conqueror's Haki exploded from Don, sweeping across the entire island-sized ship in an instant.
Zombies under Moria's control crumpled one after another, collapsing like dominoes.
Even Moria's lieutenants rolled their eyes back and fainted.
"That one," Don said calmly, glancing at the bandaged figure at the edge of the zombie ranks. "That's the Dragon-Slaying Samurai—Shimotsuki Ryuma. He still retains some of his swordsmanship from when he was alive."
Mihawk nodded and stepped forward.
The bandaged figure turned, and even from his lifeless body, a faint aura of warrior's pride could be felt.
Ryuma, the Dragon-Slaying Swordsman.
Mihawk drew Yoru, the obsidian blade humming in the air.
Ryuma silently raised Shusui, their gazes meeting—one living, one dead, yet bound by the unspoken understanding between swordsmen.
Meanwhile, Don walked straight toward Moria.
"You—what are you?" Moria growled, instinctively wary.
The oppressive energy rolling off Don made his mind flash back to that day—to the catastrophe in Wano Country.
But instead of anger, Moria felt something stranger—fear. He actually took a few steps back as Don approached.
"Relax. I'm not here for trouble," Don said casually. "I'm only here for the black blade Shusui. Everything else is just… incidental."
Standing before the massive Moria, Don tilted his head slightly upward.
Big guy for nothing, he thought idly, his gaze drifting to the gothic girl fainted at Moria's side. He stepped toward her.
"Shadow Asgard!"
Seeing Don near Perona, Moria's eyes flashed coldly. He raised his hand, and his shadow condensed into sharp black spikes, stabbing toward Don.
CLANG!
Don raised his left arm, now coated in Armament Haki, and blocked the attack with ease.
"Stay away from my precious subordinates!" Moria bellowed, lunging forward with a massive punch.
From the distance, Issho watched the duel between Mihawk and Ryuma with quiet focus.
But Robin and Issho both exchanged a weary look as Moria charged at Don—this was not going to end well for him.
BOOM!
Don's fist met Moria's midair.
The blackened Haki exploded with a thunderous crack, sending pain shooting up Moria's arm before his huge body slammed into the deck, splintering the floorboards.
"Hyah-hyah-hyah-hyah! Got your shadow!"
Moria's grotesque laughter echoed as he sprawled on the ground, one hand clutching the shadow beneath Don's feet.
"Kid, your shadow's mine now! With this much power, I'll be unstoppable!"
That single punch had told him how terrifying Don's strength was.
But what did that matter? He had the shadow now. Once he cut it free, that power would be his.
Grinning manically, Moria yanked hard—then froze.
The shadow didn't budge.
It was heavy, impossibly heavy—like forged steel.
He strained harder, trying to lift it.
BOOM!
Before he could react, Don's kick slammed into his chest.
Moria's enormous body shot across the deck like a cannonball, crashing straight into a cabin wall. The impact shattered the wooden beams, burying him under the wreckage.
"Negative Hollow!"
A young girl's voice rang out behind Don.
Perona, newly awakened from the earlier shockwave, saw her captain blasted away and reacted instinctively.
A swarm of transparent ghosts flew toward Don.
Normally, those ghosts would phase through anything they touched.
But this time
The moment they struck Don's body, they bounced off like rubber balls, ricocheting straight back into the two nearby zombies beside Perona.
The ghosts struck both of them—and immediately, the two revived zombies slumped over again.
"I'm worthless… I couldn't save Dorshinly… she's stuck as a zombie because of me…"
"I'm trash… I shouldn't have even had those filthy thoughts…"
Both men fell to their knees, muttering pitifully.
Perona froze, staring blankly at Don.
Her attack—her Negative Ghosts—had failed. For the first time ever.
"So it really does work," Don murmured, watching the dissipating spirits.
Armament Haki, it seemed, could counter even some of the trickier Paramecia abilities.
That was all he needed to confirm.
"Stay away from my subordinates!" Moria roared again.
Bursting free from the debris, he turned toward Perona and the others—only to freeze mid-motion.
Don was already gone.
He, Robin, and Enel had leapt off Thriller Bark and were heading back to their ship.
"Have Mihawk bring the sword back," Don called to Issho.
"Understood," Issho replied with a faint smile, his senses still locked onto the clash of blades in the distance.
From what he could perceive, Ryuma's swordsmanship was exceptional—but his decaying body couldn't unleash its full potential.
Mihawk, out of respect, was clearly holding back.
END OF CHAPTER
patreon.com/MrBehringer