Chapter 43: The Human-Human Fist vs. The Pirate Prince
The eerie silence left in the wake of Ian's Conqueror's Haki was thick with tension. Cavendish stood amidst his unconscious crew and fans, his handsome face a mask of fury and shock. The casual arrogance he had displayed moments before was utterly gone, replaced by the sharp focus of a warrior who had just realized the depth of the water he was in.
"I underestimated you," Cavendish admitted, his voice tight. "You're a boastful, spotlight-stealing fellow. It seems you have some actual skills behind that big mouth."
To traverse the Grand Line and reach the Sabaody Archipelago was no small feat. Cavendish was not merely a pretty face; he possessed the keen instincts of a survivor. The calm authority in Ian's posture, the residual pressure of his Haki still lingering in the air—it all screamed one thing: he had picked a fight with a monster.
"Commodore Ian!"
"Commodore Ian!"
Nami and T. Peng quickly retreated to his side, their expressions a mix of relief and urgency.
"Leave this guy to me," Ian commanded, his eyes never leaving Cavendish. "Your priority is to command the soldiers and evacuate the unconscious civilians. Get them to safety. Then, urgently evacuate any residents hiding in the surrounding buildings. Move them as far out as possible." He turned his head slightly, his voice dropping to a decisive clip. "When the Peacock arrives with the rest of the unit, you will form a cordon. No one is to approach within a one-kilometer radius. You have five minutes. If you don't want bystanders caught in the crossfire, move. Now."
"Understood, Brigadier General Ian!"
"Yes, Brigadier General Ian!"
The two snapped sharp salutes and immediately began barking orders, the Marines springing into a well-drilled evacuation procedure. In a clash between powers of this level, ordinary people were mere collateral damage. Creating a vacuum was the only way to ensure their safety and, just as importantly, to allow Ian to fight without restraint.
As his men worked, Ian's mind raced. His previous battles had been one-sided affairs. He had crushed Gladius, a cadre of the Don Quixote family, with a single move. He had used Peacock as a test subject for his newly awakened skills, completely overwhelming her. Training with Garp had shown him the peak of Haki, a mountain he was still climbing.
But where was his limit? Lieutenant General level? Elite Vice-Admiral? Could he stand against a Warlord of the Sea? The truth was, he had never been pushed to his absolute limit. The ambiguity was frustrating.
Now, a Supernova with a 280 million Berry bounty stood before him. This was no mere nuisance. This was a benchmark. The previous generation's Supernova, Fire Fist Ace, had defeated a Warlord. This generation, for all their flaws, were forces of nature. Even if Cavendish wasn't quite at that zenith, he was undoubtedly the most worthy opponent Ian had faced—the perfect whetstone to test the sharpness of his own blade. A thrill of genuine excitement coursed through him.
Zheng!
The sharp ring of drawn steel cut through his thoughts. Cavendish had no intention of waiting for the evacuation to finish. The lives of commoners were not his concern. The moment he sensed an opening, he attacked, his famous sword, Durandal, aimed with lethal intent.
Ian was ready. His senses sharpened, all irrelevant noise fading away as his superhuman observation locked onto Cavendish's charge.
Not fast enough. It was significantly slower than the brutal speed Garp had subjected him to in training.
He saw it all: the straightforward thrust, the reliance on pure speed and sharpness, the Armament Haki condensing at the tip of Durandal to maximize its piercing power. This wasn't a probing strike. It was a killing blow, meant to end the fight before it truly began.
"Beautiful Sword·Blue Bird!" Cavendish cried, the thrust creating a sharp, whistling airflow aimed directly at Ian's throat.
A fierce grin spread across Ian's face. "Very good. Fight with the intention of killing me or being killed by me. Hahaha, I'm very satisfied with an opponent like you!"
Instead of dodging, Ian's right fist was instantly sheathed in the deep, obsidian black of advanced Armament Haki. He met the legendary blade head-on.
"Human Fist Storm!" he roared, naming his move on the spot. If everyone else got cool names, so would he. He wielded the Human-Human Fruit, so this was the Human-Human Fist!
CLANG!
The sound was not of metal slicing flesh, but of a hammer striking a divine bell. A visible shockwave of force erupted from the point of impact. Durandal, the unbreakable sword, visibly bent against the impossible hardness of Ian's fist. The tremor traveled up Cavendish's arm, numbing his fingers.
For a single, suspended moment, the two forces held. Then, with a deafening BOOM!, Cavendish was launched backward as if hit by a cannonball. He flew over ten meters, his boots skidding and scraping as he desperately dug Durandal's tip into the cobblestones to slow his momentum, leaving a long, ragged scar in the ground.
"This terrifying brute force... what on earth is going on?" Cavendish gasped, his plumed hat gone, his golden hair disheveled. He stared, wide-eyed, at the unmarked fist that had repelled his supreme-grade sword. "Such strong Armament Haki!"
There had been no technique, no trick. Just overwhelming Observation to track his move, and then an utterly unreasonable combination of Armament Haki and physical strength to crush it. It reminded him of the time he had faced a giant pirate—that same sense of being utterly outmatched in raw power.
I cannot clash with him directly! The conclusion was inescapable after a single exchange. His path to victory was speed. He had to be faster, using his swordsmanship to find an opening Ian's brute force couldn't cover.
Den!
In a burst of motion, Cavendish became a golden flash, leaving a trail of afterimages as he blurred around Ian, using his superior agility to circle behind his opponent.
"Beautiful Sword·Swan Lake!" he exclaimed, flipping gracefully into the air above Ian, hanging upside down for a breathtaking moment. He became a spinning top of gleaming steel, unleashing a wide, gorgeous arc of slashing energy that rained down like a deadly ballet, aiming to pin Ian in a cage of cuts.
Boom-boom-boom!
The street below was shredded, cobblestones and the roots of mangroves splintering under the assault. But the attacks found only empty air. Ian was gone.
"Left! When did he move?!" Cavendish thought, his heart lurching as he landed. There was no time to think. He had to keep attacking, to overwhelm with speed!
"Boom boom!"
"Boom boom!"
He unleashed another flurry of slashes, but Ian, with his preternatural Observation Haki, was always one step ahead, a phantom in the storm of steel, his calm eyes already analyzing the next opening to break the Pirate Prince completely. The true test had only just begun.