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It wasn't the seasoned veterans who were the first to leap into action, but a streak of blue flame that shot across the sky.
"Orya!"
The young Marco launched himself from the deck of the Moby Dick like a cerulean meteor, a magnificent pair of wings made of blue fire instantly unfurling behind him. He didn't aim for Roger or Rayleigh; instead, he charged straight for the red-haired apprentice of a similar age on the opposite deck. Claws formed from pure flame, carrying a scorching heatwave, slashed downwards.
"Good timing!"
Shanks's eyes blazed with fighting spirit. Facing the sudden, fierce attack, he tapped his toes on the deck and took a slight half-step back, just enough to evade the sharp edge of the claws. The cutlass in his hand, still a bit heavy for him, swung upwards from a tricky angle.
Clang!
The steel of his blade met the fiery claw with a crisp, metallic ring. His initial attack thwarted, Marco flapped his wings, deftly flipped in the air, and landed steadily on the deck. A hint of respect for his opponent flickered in his perpetually sleepy eyes.
On the other side of the ship, a sturdy, square-jawed young man also vaulted onto the deck of the Oro Jackson. It was none other than a young "Diamond" Jozu. He didn't rush to attack, simply crossing his arms over his chest as his skin took on a hard, translucent luster in the sunlight.
"Hey… hey, Shanks, that guy looks like he's made of rock!" Buggy whispered, hiding behind Shanks and swallowing nervously. However, in the next second, a ray of sunlight caught Jozu's shoulder as he moved, refracting a dazzling, rainbow-colored light.
'Diamond?!'
Buggy's eyes instantly went wide. All thoughts of fear and danger were swept away, replaced by visions of towering mountains of Berries and countless treasure chests. 'I'm going to be rich!' he thought manically. 'If I can just pry off a small piece from that guy! Just one tiny piece!'
"Die! You walking treasure chest!" Buggy shrieked, darting past Shanks with his two daggers raised, lunging straight for Jozu's back.
"Hmm?" Jozu sensed the movement but didn't even turn his head, just slightly lowering his shoulder to meet the attack.
Clang! Clang!
Buggy felt as if his daggers had slammed into the hardest substance in the world. The massive recoil sent a numbing shock up his arms, and golden stars swam before his eyes. "So… so hard!" The sneak attack had failed, but instead of retreating, Buggy crazily latched onto Jozu, trying to bite and claw him. His money-crazed frenzy left the surrounding pirates dumbfounded.
With the apprentices taking the lead, the young blood on both ships finally boiled over. The youth squads of the Whitebeard and Roger Pirates roared and charged at each other. The clang of weapons and the crude curses of young men instantly filled the air.
Kyle leaned against the ship's rail, watching this "kindergarten brawl" with an amused smile. His gaze swept over the energetic boys before finally landing on a young man beside Whitebeard with a thin mustache and a rapier at his waist. It was "Flower Sword" Vista. As if sensing Kyle's gaze, Vista looked back, his eyes sharp with the unique keenness of a swordsman. Kyle grinned and made a polite, inviting gesture, as if inviting him for a pre-meal warm-up.
Just then, the two world-dominating auras finally peaked.
"Kuhahaha! The warm-up is over, Newgate!"
"Gurararara! The main course is just beginning, Roger!"
Roger and Whitebeard let out earth-shattering laughs simultaneously. In the blink of an eye, they vanished from their respective ships, only to collide violently in mid-air between the two vessels. Roger's cutlass, "Ace," crackling with black and red Conqueror's Haki, came roaring down. Whitebeard's Supreme Grade naginata, Murakumogiri, was enveloped in a pure white halo as he swung it to meet the blow.
BZZZZ—CRACK!
Centered on the point where their weapons met, the very air tore apart. Visible white cracks spread through the atmosphere like a spiderweb, as if space itself had been shattered like fragile glass. The clouds above were instantly blown away, and the surface of the sea below caved in, forming a massive, strange arc.
With the first clash, both men were pushed back, landing steadily on each other's decks.
"What terrifying power, Newgate!" Roger exclaimed, shaking his slightly numb arm, his smile growing even wider.
"Your Haki is getting more and more outrageous, Roger!" Whitebeard shot back, his spirit just as high, as he slammed Murakumogiri heavily onto the deck. The crewmen on both ships wailed in unison, complaining about the cost of repairs.
The apprentices who had been fighting so fiercely had now completely frozen. Shanks, Buggy, Marco, Jozu… all of them stared up in utter shock at the two figures who seemed like gods descended from heaven. The sheer aftershocks of their clash had warped the world around them. The competitive spirit in their eyes was gone, replaced by the purest awe and admiration.
"Hello there, little friend," Kyle's leisurely voice rang out. He had appeared in front of Vista at some point, his black-and-gold naginata resting on his shoulder. "Interested in a glass of orange juice before the main event?"
Vista's pride as a swordsman would not allow him to be looked down upon, even if the man opposite him was the infamous "Wave Guiding King" Kyle. A fire ignited in his sharp eyes. Without a word, his rapier, "White Fish," was instantly unsheathed, transforming into a silver bolt of lightning aimed directly at Kyle's throat. The sword was so fast it hummed through the air, swirling a few stray flower petals in its wake—the unique phenomenon that would one day earn him his epithet.
Facing the swift and magnificent strike, Kyle didn't even move his feet. He simply raised the wooden cup of orange juice in his other hand.
Ting!
Vista's sure-hit attack was stopped dead by the seemingly fragile cup. Not a single ripple disturbed the orange juice within it.
"Your wrist is too stiff," Kyle advised patiently. "You seek only speed, but you've lost all variation in your strikes. That won't do."
Vista's pupils constricted. With a flick of his wrist, the sword's edge twisted like a nimble snake, bypassing the rim of the cup to slash at Kyle's hand. It was a masterful pivot, showing the early signs of a true master. However, Kyle merely lowered the cup slightly.
Ting!
Again, the blade was parried by the bottom of the cup. Kyle even had the time to bring the cup to his lips, as if to take a sip.
"You bastard!" The young Vista was completely enraged. His swordplay became a ferocious storm of silver light, enveloping Kyle in a whirlwind of deadly slashes. "Rose Waltz!"
From across the deck, another Whitebeard pirate cheered, "Well done, Vista! Kill that pretentious guy!"
But Kyle, at the center of the storm, remained unmoved. The cup in his hand seemed to have a life of its own, lightly tapping and parrying, always intercepting Vista's blade at the most impossible angle. "This move isn't bad," Kyle commented leisurely amidst the rain of blows. "A bit flashy, but interesting. Oh? Attacking the lower body? That's not very gentlemanly."
Finally, seeming to grow impatient, Kyle shifted his body to dodge a slash and, with incredible speed, gently tapped Vista's sword-wielding wrist with the cup. A soft pop was heard. Vista felt a strange vibration travel up his arm, and he instantly lost his grip on "White Fish." The rapier flew out of his hand and plunged deep into the nearby mast, its hilt still humming.
Everyone stared, dumbfounded. The black-haired man had barely moved, and with nothing but a cup of orange juice, he had effortlessly defeated their crew's most talented young swordsman.
Kyle looked at the frozen Vista with an apologetic smile. "Ah, sorry about that. I got a little serious," he said, shaking the cup in his hand, the orange juice still perfectly level. "Mainly… I couldn't find a smaller cup than this."
As this one-sided duel concluded, the main event entered its final stage.
"God Avoidance!" Roger's figure appeared like a ghost, and "Ace," wreathed in black and red lightning, swept out.
"Gurararara!" Whitebeard didn't even turn around. He simply clenched his left fist and punched the air behind him. CRACK—! The space shattered like a mirror as the two invisible, destructive forces collided.
"Hey! You two bastards! If you're going to fight, go fight in the sky!" Rayleigh yelled while parrying an attack of his own.
The two captains leaped into the air, their battle continuing above the ships. Sword light and shockwaves intertwined as Haki clashed with Haki. The entire sea trembled, and the cracks in the sky lingered. It was no longer a fight; it was a natural disaster. Finally, the two figures separated, landing back on their own ships. Roger's shirt was torn, and his breathing was slightly ragged, but his eyes shone with pure exhilaration. Whitebeard had a few new scrapes on his muscular body, and the veins on his arm holding Murakumogiri pulsed.
After a brief, tense silence, Whitebeard suddenly grinned. "Gurararara…" He hoisted his massive weapon onto his shoulder. "Roger," he admitted frankly, his voice still booming, "this time… you won. But only by a little bit."
"Kuhahaha!" Roger threw his head back and laughed. "Next time might be different, Newgate!"
The legendary showdown was over. Kyle leaned against the ship's rail and drank the last drop of his orange juice. He looked at the two men laughing at each other across the gap, then at the messy deck and the dazed apprentices, and the amused smile on his face grew wider.
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