"Gyahahahaha! You've got guts, brat!" The Golden Lion leaned forward from his seat at the head of the grand table, his eyes sharp as blades. "To barge into my territory alone… Who gave you the courage to strut in here and release your Haki so freely under my roof?"
As he spoke, an overwhelming aura burst from his body—wild, domineering, suffocating. It collided violently with Rosinante's own Conqueror's Haki.
The two invisible forces clashed in midair. Crackles of black lightning danced across the hall as the very air seemed to warp under the pressure. The ground trembled. The pirates around them could barely stand, their faces pale with awe and terror.
"This is unexpected," Rosinante said with a faint look of surprise. "After your defeat in the Battle of Ed War… and your imprisonment in Impel Down… I didn't think your Conqueror's Haki would remain this strong."
True Conqueror's Haki came from more than just strength—it was the manifestation of spirit itself: an unbreakable will, a life that refused to bow, a conviction forged through countless storms. Lose any of those, and the Haki would fade.
That was why many once-great conquerors had seen their will extinguished after defeat. But not this man.
"Gyahahaha! You think a little setback like that could break me?" Golden Lion sneered, his teeth flashing. "I'm the Golden Lion! Defeat doesn't shatter me—it only sharpens my claws!"
Rosinante smiled coldly. "No doubt about it—you are the Golden Lion. But even if you've become a half-crippled old beast, you're still dangerous. That doesn't change the fact you dared to slaughter my men. Even if you're the Golden Lion… don't think this debt goes unpaid."
Golden Lion burst into laughter. "Gyahahahaha! You're not the first who's come looking to settle a score, brat! And you won't be the last! You must be that so-called Dragon King, Rosinante! If you think you can make me pay—then come and try! Assuming you can even reach me!"
"Dragon King Rosinante?! So young?!" The Second Division Captain, Heavyblade Kaen, stood up, his massive sword gleaming as he blocked Rosinante's path.
"So you're the one they call the Dragon King," another captain sneered. It was the Fourth Division Captain, Ghostsword Cantell, his hand already on his hilt. "I've been waiting for days. Thought maybe you'd chickened out. But here you are—alone. Should I be impressed… or should I pity your cowardly crew for not following you?"
"Neither," Rosinante said calmly. "For a half-broken sky pirate crew like yours, one person is enough. Bringing more would just be a waste of my time."
"What did you say?!" The entire hall erupted in outrage.
"Don't get cocky just because you're the Dragon King!" one shouted. "When our crew ruled the skies, you were still playing with wooden swords!"
"Yeah! You think your little fame means anything here? This is the Flying Sky Pirates!"
One after another, the captains and officers drew their weapons, fury blazing in their eyes.
"Stand down," Kaen said coldly, raising his heavy sword. "He's mine."
"Oh? You think you get him all to yourself?" Cantell smirked, unsheathing his blade. "Anyone who dares mouth off to the boss belongs to all of us."
"Hahaha! Then let's see who gets to him first!" Kaen roared, charging forward, his sword swinging with the weight of a collapsing mountain.
"Competing with me in speed?" Cantell whispered, vanishing in an instant. His body blurred like a wraith as a cold, ghostly slash appeared at Rosinante's side.
"What an interesting sword technique," Rosinante murmured, smiling faintly. He leapt lightly into the air, narrowly avoiding the flash of steel.
But Kaen was already waiting—almost as if he'd predicted Rosinante's landing. The massive blade in his hands swept horizontally, roaring toward where Rosinante would touch down.
Perfect timing. The instant Rosinante's foot was about to meet the floor, the edge of Kaen's blade was there to greet him.
Unfortunately for Kaen, he had miscalculated.
Rosinante's body suddenly grew impossibly light—weightless, as if gravity itself had forgotten him. He drifted downward and landed effortlessly—right on Kaen's blade.
"Not bad teamwork," Rosinante said casually, looking down at the fuming Kaen beneath him.
"You bastard! You did that on purpose!" Kaen growled, veins bulging in his neck.
"So you saw through our coordination that easily?" Cantell's voice came cool and sharp from behind.
"Gyahahaha! Kaen, your tricks are getting old!" a drunken voice called out from the side—it was the Third Division's Drunkard Mokusu.
"Guess the kid's done his homework," another captain, Evil Knight Sifang, muttered darkly.
They all assumed Rosinante had studied them beforehand—that he'd known about Kaen and Cantell's famous double attack, the one that had once slain countless New World veterans.
"Damn you!" Kaen bellowed, straining to lift his weapon—but suddenly, his face twisted in shock. The sword wouldn't move.
It felt… heavy. Too heavy.
BOOM!
A crushing force pressed down on his blade. The steel slammed into the ground with an earth-shattering crack, the marble floor fracturing under the weight.
The room fell silent.
Kaen's expression turned from anger to disbelief. The other division captains' eyes narrowed. They knew Kaen's strength—his title Heavyblade wasn't just for show. His swings carried terrifying power.
Yet now, he couldn't even lift his sword under Rosinante's pressure.
That invisible gravity pressing down on him—it wasn't natural. It was the power of a monster.
"Damn you!" Kaen roared again, veins bulging as he tried to lift his blade. With a guttural yell, he threw his strength into one massive heave—
—but the pressure vanished.
Rosinante had already flipped gracefully backward, his coat fluttering as he landed lightly out of reach. Kaen stumbled forward, all that brute strength wasted into thin air.
"Rosinante!" Kaen snarled, glaring up with blazing eyes.
Rosinante straightened, his tone calm but cold. "Golden Lion… these men aren't enough to stop me."
"Watch your mouth, brat! I'm Kaen, Second Division Captain of the Flying Sky Pirates!" Kaen bellowed, his aura erupting around him like a storm.
Even seasoned veterans like Doflamingo or Rayleigh would have treated that pressure with caution. But Rosinante… didn't even flinch.
His gaze remained locked—not on Kaen—but on the man seated above them all.
His true target.
Golden Lion.
Rosinante raised his blade, eyes narrowing.
"So that's how it is," Kaen growled, realizing Rosinante hadn't even considered him worth facing. Fury twisted his face. "You dare ignore me, brat?! I'll make you regret that arrogance!"
Rosinante didn't reply. He simply raised his sword higher.
"Heavenbreaker Slash!"
With a single swing, a blinding arc of energy tore through the hall. The air split open, walls shuddered, and the shockwave screamed forward like a divine judgment.
The slash wasn't aimed at Kaen—not truly.
From the very beginning, Rosinante's gaze—and his blade—had been fixed on the throne behind him.
The target… had always been Golden Lion.