Before the words were cold, the ground under their feet blew apart. Two figures blurred and slammed toward each other again.
Steel met steel.
Clang clang clang.
A rainstorm of metal rang through the air, sparks fountained, and every impact whipped up a pocket cyclone.
"Squads, move." From the Whitebeard side, Marco the Phoenix was the first to answer. His arms unfurled into wings of blue flame as he shot skyward.
"Ouououou."
"Strip the Roger Pirates of every last treasure."
Across the sand, Silvers Rayleigh pushed up his glasses. Their lenses caught the flash of blades as he drew his saber, tip angled to the earth. Gaban rolled his shoulders, twin axes kissing edge to edge with a bright chime. His grin said he had been waiting for this.
"Well then." Rayleigh's voice was steady and clear, carrying over the whole Roger line. "We cannot let the captain have all the fun."
He and Gaban lifted their weapons together and leveled them at the tide of Whitebeard pirates surging in.
"All hands..."
A shape fell from the sky like a meteor and landed between them with a neat hiss of air.
Kael Grylls. One hand in his pocket, a black-and-gold glaive slung over his shoulder, as if the world-ending shockwave earlier had been a friendly breeze.
"Since when do you start a party without me."
He slanted a look at Rayleigh and Gaban, a playful curl at his lip, then stepped forward and set his right fist. The spearhead unit of several dozen Whitebeard crew were sprinting straight at him.
"Let's begin with the overture."
The punch looked ordinary. The air a few meters ahead twisted and compressed, spinning into a visible ring of sound.
Then the packed pressure let go.
Boom.
An invisible cannon fanned out hard. Sand carved open into a deep furrow. The front rank never had time to blink before that force scooped them up. They flew like bowling pins and crashed down in a wide scatter, clearing a swath of beach.
"Go."
The Roger Pirates erupted like a powder cask, all that banked fighting heat roaring free. They surged past Kael, Rayleigh, and Gaban in a single wave and smashed into Whitebeard's men.
The melee began.
"Diamond Impact."
Jozu bellowed. Half his body turned to faceted crystal that blazed in the sun. Forearms crossed, he became a runaway hauler plowing straight through bodies. Ordinary crew could not stop him. He sent them spinning and sprawling.
Kael: A runaway hauler? Great. That brings back the worst memories.
"Hahaha, that rock is nice and hard. Leave him to me."
Gaban's laugh cut through the din. He stamped once and charged Jozu. Twin axes scissored, carving shrieks out of the air as he chopped down on diamond hide.
Kang.
The boom rattled teeth. Sparks spit in sheets. Gaban's tiger's mouth throbbed and both arms tingled. His grin only widened.
Elsewhere, Flower Sword Vista moved with a very different music. His blade-work was light and lyrical, every sweep flinging up a storm of rose petals. Under that beauty lay a killing field.
"Flower Sword. Night Fragrance."
Petals whirled. Each one cut like a razor, sealing off the retreat of several Roger men.
A silver line flashed.
Ting ting ting.
Crisp deflections rang. Every petal pinged away, knocked aside one by one. Rayleigh was already there, between the crew and danger, saber twirling into a lazy flower. Through his lenses, his eyes stayed calm on Vista.
"A fine style." Rayleigh's voice was as steady as ever. "Your opponent is me."
Vista's face set. The man standing before him pushed a weight into the air all his own.
At the edge of the fray, two brats stood back to back, panting.
"Shanks, big guy on your left." Buggy barked, eyes flicking.
"Got it. Idiot, that is your right." Shanks cursed with his mouth while his sword hand snapped cleanly, knocking a curved blade off the line that was about to take Buggy in the back of the head.
"Shut up. Red-haired jerk, take this."
"Who are you calling red hair, red nose."
They bickered nonstop, yet their timing tightened with every exchange. With Kael's special coaching, the two were no longer the greenlings they had been. In a scrum this big they could hold their ground, even steal a strike here and there.
Deep in the trees, Kozuki Oden, who had taken Roger's Kamusari full in the chest, staggered back into the light. He wiped the blood from his lip. His grin had only grown wilder. One look at the grand chaos before him and he let rip a thundered laugh.
"Oh oh oh. Now this is piracy. This is fun."
He ignored his captains shouting after him and plunged in with Ame no Habakiri and Enma, a tiger into sheep, cutting without bothering to sort friend from foe. The field, already mad, went feral.
"Hey, samurai. That was your own man."
"Oden, that side is Roger. Watch it."
In the roil at center, Kael wandered like it was a garden path. Kenbunshoku and his wave-sense blanketed the field. Any strike that came for him, blade or bullet, he felt a beat early and drifted aside.
A teal-blue blur carved down with a keen whistle.
Marco.
Half man, half bird, he stooped with talons sheathed in Armament and wreathed in healing flame, raking for the crown of Kael's skull.
"So you are the Waveguide King. Show me your weight."
Marco's voice had a playful edge. His dive hit like lightning. To normal eyes he was only a falling streak.
Kael only tipped his chin. The corner of his mouth notched up under the sunglasses.
He did not block. He did not step. He opened his mouth and released a soundless pulse.
"Huh."
A split-second before those claws could touch, Marco's brain seized. It felt like a red-hot iron spike driven through his temples. Then his own voice detonated inside his skull, looping and swelling and warping into harsh static.
"So you are the Waveguide King. Show me your weight."
"Show me your weight."
"Your weight. Your weight. Your weight."
The bizarre assault hiccuped the speed and focus he prided himself on by a bare fraction.
At this level, a fraction is the end.
Kael's outline vanished.
He rode the snapback of his own shockwave and ghosted in at Marco's flank.
"Good reflex. Pity."
He cocked his middle finger and snapped it at the back of Marco's head. A single skull-flick.
Marco's Observation screamed, every hair standing up. He twisted at the last heartbeat and threw a Haki-hardened wing in front.
Thump.
The impact sounded dull and heavy. Marco skidded a dozen meters, plowing twin grooves into the sand. He shook a numb wing out and finally looked at Kael with weight in his eyes.
"Psychic interference. Troublesome power."
Kael did not chase. He smoothed his collar where the gust had rucked it.
"Right back at you."
He bared his teeth in a grin and held up his right hand. Thumb and forefinger pinched so close that only a thread of light showed through.
"The gap between us is about this much."
There it is. The cosmos between two fingers.
Marco's eye twitched hard.
Is this guy mocking me.
He drew a long breath. Blue fire surged up around him, power rising sharper than before.
"Is that so. Then I will take that finger and burn your arrogance with it to ash."
Now he is mad.
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