The very next morning, Dragon finally began to fulfill his promise. Sitting cross-legged on the sand, he explained the theory of Armament Haki. Jack listened intently, though most of what Dragon said was already something he had an inkling of—he had pieced together fragments from his mother's notes and his own intuition. Still, hearing it from a master was different.
After the lecture, Dragon stood and demonstrated. His arms darkened, a jet-black sheen crawling across his skin, radiating a quiet but overwhelming power. He flexed his hand once, and the air around it seemed to ripple. Both Jack and Aramaki were silent, captivated by the sight.
Then came the practical lesson. Dragon raised his fist, his expression calm but firm. "Enough talk. You won't awaken Armament Haki through theory alone. You'll learn by being forced to feel it."
He extended his hand toward them both. "Come. Together."
The words struck Aramaki like a slap. His brows furrowed, and his pride flared. "What? Both of us against you? Are you mocking us?" he snapped, his voice sharp with offense. To him, Dragon's challenge was a dismissal, a suggestion that even combined, they weren't worth his full attention.
"I'll make you regret looking down on us," Aramaki growled as his body expanded, bark and branches twisting until he towered as a giant tree. The earth trembled as his roots spread outward, preparing to strike.
But Dragon didn't flinch. With a single step forward, he drove his fist into Aramaki's trunk-like body. The blow was infused with Armament Haki, and the impact was devastating—Aramaki staggered backward, a cry tearing from his lips. The pain seared deeper than anything he had felt before, even worse than Jack's brutal sparring strikes.
Jack leapt forward immediately, his fist cocked back. "Don't think I'll let you off easy!" He swung at Dragon, meeting him fist to fist. The collision cracked like thunder. Jack's uncoated knuckles burned from the impact, pain jolting up his arm, but he gritted his teeth and pressed forward.
Blow after blow rained down. Jack's punches came fast, heavy, reckless, while Dragon countered with calm precision. Aramaki tried to flank him, sending massive branches lashing toward Dragon, but Dragon moved as though swatting a gnat—his leg snapped out in a swift kick, and Aramaki went flying across the clearing.
"Don't rely on your Devil Fruit, you idiot!" Jack barked at him mid-fight. "How are you supposed to learn Haki if you're hiding behind your powers? Feel it with your body!"
Aramaki froze for a moment, his pride stung. Then, slowly, a grin broke across his face. He let his giant form recede, returning to his human body. "Tch… fine. Let's do this the hard way." He dashed back into the fray, fists clenched, sweat already beading across his skin.
With both of them charging at once, the fight grew fiercer. Dragon shifted his stance, becoming slightly more serious—not because of Aramaki, but because of Jack. Despite being only eight years old, Jack's raw physical power was monstrous, on par with legends Dragon had heard of.
'He's just like Charlotte Linlin,' Dragon thought as he parried another heavy punch. 'Someone with absurd strength and a body that defies reason.'
Jack threw another haymaker, while Aramaki aimed a sharp kick at Dragon's lower body. Dragon spun, fluid as the wind, evading both strikes in one motion before snapping his leg up in a counter. Jack narrowly dodged, but Aramaki wasn't so lucky—the haki-coated kick smashed into his head, sending him crashing into the ground.
Jack roared, stepping in with a counterpunch. Dragon raised his forearm to block—and then it happened. For the briefest instant, Jack's fist shimmered with a black hue. Sparks crackled where their blows met, and Dragon's eyes widened.
He saw it. Jack had touched Armament Haki.
Though the energy flickered and faded just as quickly, the breakthrough was undeniable. Dragon's lips curved into a rare grin. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his fists, almost playfully, like a warrior who had just found a worthy opponent. In a motion eerily reminiscent of a soldier preparing for battle, he "cocked" his arms, veins bulging with controlled strength.
"Interesting," Dragon muttered. "Let's see how far you can go."
The tempo of the fight shifted. Dragon pressed forward now, striking first. Jack met him head-on, but without the steady flow of Haki, his body couldn't withstand the clash. One particularly brutal exchange dislocated Jack's arm with a sickening crack. But instead of falling back, Jack snarled and slammed it against his own body, popping it back into place with sheer willpower before throwing another punch.
Aramaki, meanwhile, was groaning on the ground, dazed from Dragon's earlier kick. He sprawled on the dirt, face tilted toward the sun, letting its warmth help him recover. "Damn it," he muttered, his voice groggy, "even his kicks feel like cannon fire…"
The battle raged on, Jack refusing to yield despite the growing bruises and blood. Dragon's calm gaze never wavered, but inwardly, he marveled at the boy's potential. To awaken Armament Haki in the heat of battle after a single day of instruction was unheard of.
By the time the sun began to dip, their training had pushed both Jack and Aramaki to exhaustion. Dragon stood unscathed, but his eyes carried a glimmer of respect. Jack, though battered and bloodied, wore a grin of satisfaction, and even Aramaki, clutching his aching head, managed a crooked smile.
By the time the sun sank behind the horizon, the three of them were gathered around a fire, sharing a simple but hearty meal. Dragon ate in silence at first, while Jack tore into the roasted meat without hesitation, and Aramaki, still sore from the spar, chewed with a faint scowl on his face. After a while, Dragon set his portion down and began to speak.
"Armament Haki," he explained, his voice steady, "isn't just about hardening your body. It's the embodiment of spirit—your willpower turned into armor. Without enough spirit, strength alone won't awaken it. But spirit without strength is equally useless. You need both. Balance."
Jack and Aramaki listened intently. Aramaki frowned, trying to picture what Dragon meant, while Jack kept eating, though his sharp eyes never left Dragon's face.
Dragon studied Jack for a long moment before asking, "How come you have strength like that at such a young age? Do you know the reason?"
The question caught Jack off guard. He set his food down and thought for a moment before answering honestly. "I don't know, actually. I think I was just… born this way. But before my mother died, she always told me the same thing—never get complacent. She said if I do, it'll lead straight to my doom."
His tone was casual, but there was weight behind his words, an echo of his mother's voice buried deep in his memory. Dragon nodded slowly, his gaze sharpening, as though he was piecing together something larger. He didn't push further, but his silence carried the weight of contemplation.
Later that night, when Aramaki fell asleep snoring heavily, Jack remained awake. He rarely needed rest, his body restless with energy. Instead, he sat cross-legged near the fire, the glow flickering across his scarred knuckles. His eyes closed, and he sank into meditation.
He replayed the clash with Dragon in his mind, the single moment when his fist had turned black and sparks had flown. That fleeting sensation—his first true taste of Armament Haki—burned itself into his memory.
I need to remember that feeling, Jack thought, forcing himself to relive the strain, the sharp focus, the pressure of Dragon's will colliding with his own.
His breathing slowed, steady as a drumbeat, while his muscles coiled and twisted. He bent his body into uncomfortable positions, straining deliberately, as if to recreate the tension he had felt in battle. Pain shot through his arms, but he welcomed it.
Somewhere in the stillness, he whispered to himself, "If I lose that moment, I'll never move forward."
The night stretched on, quiet except for the crackle of firewood and Aramaki's soft snores. Jack's silhouette remained unmoving, locked in meditation, the firelight casting him in an almost statue-like figure. Dragon, though appearing asleep, opened one eye briefly and watched the boy. A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips before he closed it again. The training for Aramament Haki then continued.