When Shanks and Garling reappeared in the arena, their clothes were slashed in several places, but neither of them was injured.
A look of admiration appeared on Garling's face—Shanks' swordsmanship was far more impressive than he had anticipated.
The Figarland family placed the utmost emphasis on swordsmanship, which was precisely why he had yet to use his Devil Fruit powers.
Shanks, too, was full of praise for Garling's sword skills. He had been taught swordsmanship by Roger and Rayleigh while aboard the Oro Jackson. However, both had leaned more toward Haki, so when it came purely to swordsmanship, they still fell short of Garling.
After all, the Figarland family had over eight hundred years of swordsmanship heritage.
Perhaps it was a matter of bloodline, but Shanks had become a self-taught genius with the blade. After beginning his self-study, his progress skyrocketed, and thanks to frequent sparring with Mihawk, his swordsmanship had reached the top three in the world.
After that exchange of swordplay, the bond between the two men quietly deepened.
However, for them, what had just transpired was merely a warm-up.
Shanks rolled his shoulders and slowly sheathed his blade at his waist. Garling saw the gesture and guessed his intention.
"You're going to use your Fruit ability now?"
Shanks grinned.
"Yeah. It's the Mythical Zoan, Azure Dragon Fruit!"
Garling nodded slightly.
"I've heard about it. But it doesn't seem to complement your swordsmanship very well."
Shanks didn't respond. Instead, his upper clothes suddenly burst apart with a boom, and his body rapidly swelled as he transformed into his dragon-human hybrid form.
Covered in crimson scales, his massive frame loomed over the battlefield.
Garling calmly observed and commented,
"The physical boost from a Zoan-type Devil Fruit really is absurd."
Shanks suddenly turned to glance at Makino and her daughter off in the distance, striking a pose he thought looked dashing.
But it was Makino's first time seeing him like this—she jumped in fright and instinctively covered baby Amara's eyes.
Shanks froze on the spot, falling into a spiral of self-doubt.
Carl's mouth twitched as he turned away and muttered, "What an idiot."
Just as he said that, there was a loud boom. Makino had just uncovered Amara's eyes, only for the little girl to see Shanks flying backward like a cannonball.
Garling now stood where Shanks had been, calmly retracting his leg. He looked at the distant, cratered landing site and said flatly,
"Getting distracted in battle is a fatal mistake."
Carl added, "So many years, and you still haven't learned? Did you forget what I told you the first time we met?"
Clutching his butt, Shanks stood up with a pitiful look. He'd only wanted to show off in front of his wife and daughter—and now he'd not only failed miserably, but taken a full-force kick right in front of them. Absolutely humiliating.
Furious, he glared at Garling and snapped, "Now I get where Carl picked up that dirty fighting style!"
Garling looked confused.
"What dirty fighting style?"
Shanks growled through clenched teeth. "Don't tell me that wasn't your invention!"
But Garling just shook his head—he had no idea what Shanks was talking about.
Shanks didn't press the matter. He took a deep breath, his face darkening, and let out a strong exhale through his nostrils. A violent vortex of wind began gathering around him, forming countless wind blades.
With a roar, he slashed with his dragon claws, launching a barrage of wind blades toward Garling.
Garling's eyes narrowed. With a light tap of his toe, his figure vanished like a ghost—but he couldn't escape Shanks' powerful Observation Haki.
The storm of wind blades merged into a sweeping blue arc and pursued Garling relentlessly.
Seeing no point in dodging, Garling adjusted his posture and countered with a series of sword strikes. Each slash released devastating sword energy—levels that most swordsmen couldn't even dream of in a lifetime.
The sword aura collided with the wind blades, instantly vaporizing into a cloud of mist. The very next moment, the mist exploded.
Shanks burst forth from within, dragon claws wreathed in Haki, striking straight at Garling's face.
Garling didn't flinch. With a flick of his wrist, his blade lunged first—aimed directly below Shanks' abdomen.
The chill that ran up Shanks' spine was faster than any Observation Haki warning.
Carl's face twitched when he saw Garling's aim.
Is Garling-san trying to say that now that Amara's born, Shanks' "equipment" is expendable?
Midair, Shanks twisted his body and retreated, yelling,
"Where the hell were you aiming!?"
Garling elegantly spun his blade, then sheathed it with practiced grace.
"As a swordsman, you must learn to strike at your opponent's greatest vulnerability. That was simply the optimal angle."
Shanks laughed angrily. "Oh, fantastic. Just great!"
Then, he opened his mouth wide and unleashed a devastating dragon breath.
Garling slashed downward, splitting the blast cleanly in two with a sword strike infused with Conqueror's Haki.
Shanks followed up with another dragon breath, this time with much greater power.
Garling frowned slightly and raised his sword to block the incoming wave of scorching energy.
Despite the violent tempest swirling around him, Garling's crescent-shaped hair and beard didn't budge—he stood like an immovable mountain.
Shanks wasn't done.
He raised an arm, and from his palm poured thick, fiery clouds. The flames spread across the sky, darkening until they turned pitch black, arcs of silver lightning crackling from within.
Sensing the destructive force gathering above, Garling's eyes flashed. He gritted his teeth, trying to disperse the dragon breath before the thunder could strike.
But it was too late.
A thick bolt of silver lightning burst from the black clouds and struck Garling squarely.
With a deafening boom, his figure vanished in the blinding white light.
...
Shanks didn't believe that would be enough to defeat Garling. He stared unblinking at the smoke.
Suddenly, with a crisp snap, the smoke scattered—and Garling emerged.
A faint, translucent ripple shimmered around his hand.
Shanks chuckled. "Finally can't hold back anymore, huh? Gonna use your ability?"
Garling looked up, his gaze steady. Then, without a word, he raised his arm and clenched his fist.
Shanks' pupils contracted. He instinctively crossed his arms to block.
A moment later, Garling threw a punch.
Countless jagged blue cracks spread through the air, and a terrifying shockwave blasted into Shanks, sending him flying backward.
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+110 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg