Facing Red-Haired Shanks's air slash, Thorne Ashveil stood unmoving, his expression calm. He took a single step forward, waiting for the strike to reach him.
Is this guy not afraid of death?
Shanks narrowed his eyes, a trace of confusion flashing through them. Or has he gone numb from fear?
He hesitated for an instant. If this kid died from his attack, the Whitebeard Pirates would surely hold it against him—something even he didn't want.
But before Shanks could pull back, the slash that tore through the air struck head-on—meeting an invisible wall of pressure.
A thunderous boom echoed across the sea.
Waves surged violently, the massive Moby Dick rocking back and forth under the force. The energy from Shanks's strike dissipated into the wind, vanishing completely. Yet Ashveil stood unscathed, taking two leisurely steps forward. Around him, faint ripples of Conqueror's Haki shimmered like distorted air.
Shanks's eyes widened. His face froze in disbelief.
You've got to be kidding me.
That was his full-force attack—something even the World's Greatest Swordsman wouldn't dare take head-on.
But this man had blocked it… effortlessly?
"What kind of power is that?" he muttered under his breath.
Using his Observation Haki, Shanks scanned Ashveil carefully, his expression darkening. Even a man of his caliber felt a bead of cold sweat slide down his temple.
That pressure… that was definitely Conqueror's Haki. But how can it be so dense?
He'd heard rumors that Ashveil's Conqueror's Haki was monstrous—but seeing it firsthand was an entirely different experience.
Has he already mastered Conqueror's Infusion…? Impossible. He's too young.
Shanks clenched his jaw. No… I won't believe it until I see it myself.
Without hesitation, he decided to engage in a direct Haki clash.
The Red-Haired Pirates around him exchanged shocked glances, their throats dry.
"Captain's attack got blocked… just like that?" one whispered.
"Didn't this guy have a Flame-type ability? What's with this Haki?" another muttered.
"Wait... could it be true? Did he really defeat Kong and destroy Marineford?"
The Whitebeard Pirates, however, remained calm. They had witnessed such overwhelming strength many times before during the war. Blocking the strike of a Yonko? For Ashveil, it was nothing new.
A wave of immense Conqueror's Haki erupted from Shanks, pressing down on the battlefield like an invisible storm. Cracks snaked across the deck of the Moby Dick under the pressure.
"It's here—Captain Shanks's strongest Haki!" Lucky Roux said, awe in his voice.
Beckman quietly stubbed out his cigar, his gaze steady.
But Ashveil… laughed.
Shanks's brow twitched. "What's so funny, brat?"
Ashveil grinned, raising one hand. "Sorry, Shanks. It's just—seeing you get all serious, only to release such a tiny bit of Conqueror's Haki… I couldn't help myself."
His chuckle carried easily through the air, light but cutting.
"You little—fine! Let's see whose Haki stands taller!" Shanks roared, unleashing his full power.
The Moby Dick groaned, the sea itself trembling under the intensity.
Ashveil's smile only grew. This was the second time anyone had challenged him to a Conqueror's Haki clash. How amusing.
His lips curved upward, and his own Haki surged outward—dense, oppressive, and suffocating.
The air between them cracked and hissed as invisible lightning danced across the sky.
Shanks's expression changed. No matter how much he poured into his Haki, he found his aura suppressed—smothered—contained.
"Still want to continue?" Ashveil's voice was calm, teasing. "You're not ready for this kind of fight, Shanks."
"Don't underestimate me, kid!" Shanks growled, pushing his Haki to the limit.
The air rippled violently, his energy trying to break through Ashveil's domination.
Ashveil frowned slightly. Still resisting, huh? Fine then.
His Conqueror's Haki intensified, growing visible—thick and heavy like black mist streaked with violet lightning.
The Red-Haired crew looked up, stunned.
"W-what's that in the sky?!" Lucky Roux shouted. "Is that a Devil Fruit ability!?"
"No…" Beckman's eyes narrowed. "That's Conqueror's Haki… in physical form."
"Visible Haki? That's impossible!" Yasopp exclaimed.
Beckman's voice was quiet, grim. "It's possible. Rocks D. Xebec once reached that level. The level our captain has always dreamed of—Conqueror's Infusion. This battle's already decided."
True to his words, Shanks's Haki began to crumble under the overwhelming pressure. The mist-like aura around Ashveil pressed downward, compressing Shanks's willpower to its limits.
The Red-Haired Emperor gritted his teeth, his knees trembling slightly. His body felt like it bore the weight of mountains. His skin burned; his insides twisted.
Cold sweat drenched his back.
Ashveil finally withdrew his Haki, the air returning to a calm stillness.
He yawned lazily. "Well, that settles it, Shanks. I win this one."
The oppressive silence that followed said it all.
"Our crew wasn't exaggerating," he continued. "Now that the matter's settled, you can all relax. I think I'll take a nap."
Even Shanks had to admit it—his Haki was utterly crushed.
If Ashveil's Conqueror's Haki was a mighty tree piercing the heavens, his own was nothing more than a single blade of grass struggling beneath its shadow.
He let out a slow breath and smiled faintly. "I lost this clash."
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