"You guessed right, but no prizes for that."
Ross chuckled, swinging Poseidon's Trident straight at the Red the Aloof's face.
Boom!
Conqueror's Haki exploded from the Red the Aloof's cane-sword, hurling the trident aside in an instant.
This clash hit harder than any before it.
But Ross caught a flicker of unease rippling from the man's weapon—like a shadow of doubt.
"Red the Aloof, your blade's got a frantic edge to it."
Ross barked a laugh, sweeping the trident in wide, relentless arcs as he pressed the attack.
"Panic? As if a pup like you could rattle me."
The Red the Aloof smirked, caught between strikes from both flanks. He steadied himself, meeting Ross head-on without flinching.
He was rattled, though. Just a bit.
This wasn't like tangling with Shiki or Whitebeard's crew, where the captains hogged the spotlight and the rest stayed sidelined. The World Government? They swarmed like a storm—too many heavy hitters to juggle alone.
Even Whitebeard dodged mob rushes. Only a fool like Shiki charged straight in... and now he rotted in Impel Down for it.
"Your swings are getting sloppy," Ross taunted, blade whistling through the air.
At their level, every clash revealed the opponent's soul. Not pure swordmasters, maybe, but the raw power echoed the same truth.
The Red the Aloof stayed silent, countering with measured strikes that kept Poseidon's Trident at bay. But the pace had slowed—fewer blows, weaker force, always pulling back.
Admiral Sakazuki was closing in, barely two kilometers off. A heartbeat away for anyone this strong.
The Red the Aloof split his focus, bracing for a two-front brawl. No room for bold plays against Ross.
Half a minute ticked by.
His eyes sharpened. The longsword lanced out like lightning, wreathed in Conqueror's Haki, intercepting the trident's thrust.
In the same motion, his right foot ignited with Armament Haki—black as iron—and snapped backward.
Sakazuki materialized behind him like a specter, arm morphing into a snarling lava hound, jaws wide.
"Meigo!"
Boom! Clang!
Haki met trident; magma clashed with an armored leg. Twin explosions rocked the air, threatening to crack the sky.
The Red the Aloof twisted midair, cane-sword locked against Ross's assault, Haki flaring to hold the line. His kick absorbed Sakazuki's strike dead-on.
Shockwaves rolled out like tidal surges. Dust billowed skyward, kicked up by an unseen gale. Sand and stone cascaded outward, racing hundreds of meters in seconds.
A choking sandstorm swallowed the horizon, veiling the battlefield in gritty haze.
Sakazuki wasted no breath on chatter. The Red the Aloof shrugged off his opener? Fine—both arms melted into lava hounds, lunging with savage snaps.
"Hmph."
The Red the Aloof's temper flared. He gripped his weapon two-handed for Ross, feet hardening with Armament Haki.
No glance back. He vaulted upward, unleashing a barrage of kicks.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In one blistering second, legs met magma over a dozen times. His defenses were ironclad, reading every feint like he had eyes in the back of his skull.
All while his cane-sword, pulsing with Conqueror's Haki, traded thunderous blows with Ross up front.
Clang!
"Now this is the Red the Aloof I know," Ross said, grinning at the man holding off two elites without breaking stride.
This was the legend—unyielding, elite beyond measure. S+ didn't even cover it.
With Sakazuki in the mix, Ross dialed back his Devil Fruit's wide sweeps, channeling seawater into a swirling aura for close-quarters fury. The trident hammered forward, relentless, sparks flying with every parry.
"What can a pair of greenhorns do to me?" the Red the Aloof scoffed, unleashing hands and feet in a whirlwind. He surged, forcing them both on the defensive, air thick with strain.
He'd danced this dance before—countless foes, countless scars.
One look sized up Sakazuki: solid fruit, tough build, but Haki still raw. No seamless blend with his powers yet. Leagues below Whitebeard.
The Red the Aloof's Observation Haki peeled moves apart before they landed. Kid stuff to counter.
Without Ross? He'd have the admiral down in three days, easy.
Ross was the real threat—Armament Haki cracking internals, physique outmatching his own, Observation too sharp to predict. A true rival.
Two Sakazukis? Manageable. Defeat? Possible escape, no sweat.
Boom!
Ripples tore outward. Sakazuki's magma scorched the sands, turning desert to blistering glass. Fiery clouds brewed overhead.
Alabasta's guards hung back—even Gion kept her distance from the inferno's core.
She could handle herself, but at A+ rank, her endurance was the weak link. Dive in now, and she'd fold in thirty minutes flat.
From the desert's edge, Gion scanned for openings, ready to back them up.
"Terrifying..."
The guards clustered nearby—once itching for royal vengeance—now quaking at the chaos.
Battles like this even existed?
"Lady Gion," the captain stammered, "who's Saint Ross facing?"
"Admiral Sakazuki's resupplying here—he jumped in to help. The target's the legendary pirate, Patrick Redfield, the Red the Aloof. King Cobra's killer."
Gion's voice stayed level, but resentment simmered in her gaze. Being benched from a scrap this epic? It burned. She was miles from the top tiers yet.
—