Under the setting sun, on the arid desert beside the humid outskirts of Rainbase, two men—one tall, one shorter—stood facing each other.
A gust of dry wind suddenly blew past. The tall man, clad in a thick black fur coat despite the blistering heat, broke the silence.
"Kid, you're pretty arrogant for a rookie," he sneered. "Not only did you kill Daz Bones, but you kidnapped Nico Robin. And the other female agents from my studio were captured and dragged onto your ship."
His deep voice was thick with contempt. He cast a sweeping, dismissive glance at the group of women standing near the riverbank a few hundred yards away.
In this scorching desert, wearing a heavy black coat, with slicked-back hair, a cigar clamped between his teeth, a horizontal facial scar, and a massive golden hook replacing his left hand—who else could it be but Sir Crocodile, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea?
Crocodile's sweeping gaze, even from a distance, made the women feel an immense, crushing pressure.
Robin seemed quite relaxed, a slight, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. Mikita, Paula (Doublefinger), and Marianne (Goldenweek), however, were genuinely terrified when they laid eyes on their true boss. They knew his ruthless reputation.
Princess Vivi's face was a complex mask of deep anger, raw fear, and overwhelming tension. She hated Crocodile for the drought and the civil war he had orchestrated against Alabasta, but she also feared his absolute power. She was incredibly nervous about whether Darian could actually defeat him.
As for Nami, although she was still incredibly furious and heartbroken that Darian had brought another woman onto the ship, and was actively ignoring him, she was nonetheless filled with deep worry watching Darian confront a Warlord.
Alvida remained relatively calm, simply crossing her arms and watching to see if her new Captain could back up his arrogance.
After leaving the port of Nanohana, Darian and his group had headed straight up the Sandora River toward the Baroque Works stronghold of Rainbase.
Crocodile, meanwhile, had made a rapid trip to Nanohana only to find that Darian's ship had already sailed upriver. He returned in a furious huff, intercepting Darian and the others in the open desert just outside the city limits.
In response to Crocodile's disdainful words regarding the captive women, Darian simply smiled beneath his white mask and said smoothly, "Yes, I took them. These women are incredibly high quality, so I decided to keep them for myself."
Hearing Darian's casual, dismissive tone, Crocodile realized that Daz Bones had definitely been killed. With the "Utopia Project" about to begin, Crocodile decided he could use a powerful replacement.
"Hand over Nico Robin to me right now and agree to work under my command," Crocodile demanded, puffing a thick cloud of smoke from his cigar. "Do that, and I might consider sparing your miserable life."
He spoke in a deeply condescending tone, looking down his nose at the masked rookie.
Seeing Crocodile's disdainful look, Darian just chuckled and replied, "Oh, sorry! I don't have the habit of working as a lapdog for others. Besides... I want to use your severed head to impress my navigator."
Upon hearing Darian's blatant refusal and insult, Crocodile's face instantly darkened into a murderous scowl.
"Is that so?" Crocodile growled, removing his cigar. "Then you might as well die in the sand!"
"Desert Spada!" (Desert Treasure Sword)
Crocodile took control of the terrain, transforming his right arm into a highly compressed, razor-sharp blade of swirling sand. With a swift motion, he sent a massive, underground shockwave of cutting sand surging straight toward Darian.
"Sword of Iron Sand!"
Facing Crocodile's incoming sand blade, Darian didn't flinch. He condensed the black iron sand hovering around him into a dense, humming blade and slashed downward to intercept it.
BANG!
The compressed yellow sand blade and the vibrating black iron sand sword collided violently, instantly exploding into a sky full of abrasive dust and black particles.
Arcs of blue-white lightning crackled around Darian's body. Under the intense pull of his magnetic field, he yanked the scattered iron sand back to him before it could be lost in the desert. He wasn't Crocodile; his supply of iron sand wasn't infinite. He had to conserve his weapon.
Looking at the black sand swirling around Darian, Crocodile narrowed his eyes. "So this is your true ability? You killed Daz Bones by manipulating iron sand using electromagnetic fields?"
When Crocodile deduced this so quickly, Darian looked at him in genuine surprise. "You actually understand the physics behind it?"
Influenced by fighting meatheads like Arlong and Don Krieg, Darian had begun to assume that most pirates in this sea were uneducated idiots who relied purely on brute strength, save for geniuses like Robin and Nami.
He couldn't help but feel a flicker of admiration for Crocodile. He truly deserved to be called a ruthless, ambitious mastermind. He was not only powerful, but he was highly educated—he had clearly read more books than Daz Bones.
Seeing the look of genuine surprise on the rookie's face, as if Crocodile were some kind of fool who couldn't understand basic magnetism, Crocodile's face darkened further.
Looking at the relatively small cloud of iron sand hovering around Darian, Crocodile sneered arrogantly. "You can only control that pitiful handful of iron sand? You're a fool to challenge me here. This is a desert. And out here... my sand is infinite."
"Sables!" (Sandstorm)
Crocodile opened his right palm. Using his Devil Fruit power, he created a miniature, rapidly spinning tornado of sand in the center of his hand, and hurled it directly toward Darian.
One should never underestimate a Sandstorm just because it starts small in Crocodile's palm. When used at close range, the tearing winds and abrasive sand can shatter solid rocks and blow down stone buildings. Moreover, as the storm travels and intensifies, it eventually becomes a true, uncontrollable natural disaster, absorbing the surrounding wind and sand until even Crocodile himself is unable to stop it.
Faced with the rapidly approaching, expanding sandstorm, Darian couldn't help but frown beneath his mask. He had far too little iron sand on hand; he couldn't create a counter-storm of his own to match the sheer volume of silica.
Crocodile threw out the sandstorm and a smug, victorious smile appeared on his scarred face. He was a Logia-type Sand-Sand Fruit user. The entire desert was his absolute domain. This terrain advantage was one of the primary reasons why he had entrenched himself in Alabasta to begin with!
But soon, Crocodile's confident smile vanished completely.
"Wait... that pose!"
Crocodile's eyes widened in horror when he saw Darian's stance shift. He was all too intimately familiar with that exact pose. It was Edward Newgate's signature movement.
Darian raised his right arm high, drawing his fist back near his left shoulder. He turned his upper body to the side, planting his feet firmly. The brilliant white, translucent halo of concentrated kinetic energy was clearly visible, enveloping his fist.
To anyone who had fought in the New World, it looked exactly as if Darian had eaten the Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
THUMP!
Darian's fist slammed into the empty air with terrifying force.
CRACK!
The atmosphere itself split open, emitting a sound like thick ice shattering. Jagged, glowing white cracks spread rapidly outward through the air. The immense kinetic impact erupted along the fracture lines.
BOOM!
The terrifying shockwave of pure vibration slammed into the incoming sandstorm, violently dispersing the tornado in an instant. Yet, the shockwave's power was barely diminished. The concussive blast continued forward, bombarding Crocodile directly.
A terrifying, invisible wall of force came crashing down on him. Crocodile was so paralyzed by the traumatic memory of Whitebeard that he forgot to dodge or erect a sand shield, taking the hit dead-on.
BANG!
Crocodile's physical body exploded upon impact, turning into a massive cloud of yellow sand that filled the sky, scattered by the shockwave.
Had Crocodile not reflexively transformed his body into his Logia element at the absolute last microsecond, the sheer blunt-force trauma of that attack would have pulverized his organs and severely injured him.
Crocodile, now turned into scattered sand, floated helplessly in the air for a moment. A gust of wind blew by, carrying the sand like a small tornado, until Crocodile re-formed and landed heavily on the desert ground a dozen yards away, panting slightly.
"How... how is that possible?!"
Princess Vivi, who was watching the scene through a spyglass from a safe distance, exclaimed in shock.
Every clash between Darian and Crocodile violently tugged at her heartstrings. She had just witnessed Darian completely annihilate an eight-ship fleet of Billions with a single, identical punch, yet Crocodile had taken the hit and appeared completely unharmed!
Seeing Vivi's terrified expression, Nami placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Vivi. He's a Logia user. Physical attacks don't work unless you know his weakness. But Darian still has a lot of other tricks up his sleeve."
Nami understood exactly what defeating Crocodile meant for Vivi and her country. Despite her anger at Darian, she was incredibly worried about his safety against such a monster.
The other women nearby watched the battlefield with serious, tense expressions. Robin merely revealed an expression that clearly said, 'I knew it.' She knew the limitations of raw physical force against a seasoned Logia.
Meanwhile, Paula and Marianne hadn't entirely given up hope of rescue. Seeing Crocodile's invincible power, they were excited, believing their boss would soon slaughter the White Emperor.
Mikita, however, who had already been thoroughly conquered and terrified by Darian in the bedroom, was filled with mixed feelings. She hadn't expected her former boss to be this resilient, and she found herself genuinely worried about Darian's safety.
Back on the battlefield, the attack proving fruitless did not surprise Darian. He knew that raw physical attacks, even ones that shattered the air, could not permanently harm a Logia-type Devil Fruit user unless infused with Armament Haki or their elemental weakness.
Crocodile, having reformed his body, stared at Darian in absolute, furious shock. "Isn't your ability supposed to be electrical manipulation?! The bounty poster said you used lightning! How the hell do you possess Whitebeard's abilities?!"
Seeing Crocodile's pale, rattled expression, Darian smiled casually. "What's the big deal? I'm a fast learner."
Darian's arrogant, calm demeanor instantly darkened Crocodile's face.
Edward Newgate, "Whitebeard," had left a deep, humiliating psychological scar on Crocodile in the New World. The traumatic memory of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit destroying everything in its path made Crocodile feel a phantom, sharp pain in his chest.
"Don't get cocky, you arrogant brat! That kind of blunt attack can't even scratch me!" Crocodile roared angrily, his composure slipping. As a man who had suffered a crushing defeat in the past, he desperately wanted to prove his invincibility now.
"Come and experience the true, inescapable terror of the desert!" Crocodile yelled, slamming both hands onto the ground.
"Desert Girasole!" (Desert Sunflower)
As he spoke, under Crocodile's immense control, the loose sand directly beneath Darian's boots suddenly gave way and began to sink rapidly.
The sudden, massive sinkhole caused Darian to stagger. The sand began to pull him downward with terrifying force.
However, Darian remained calm. He quickly manipulated the electromagnetic field around him. The black iron sand swirling nearby instantly transformed into the massive Iron Sand Wings on his back. With a powerful downward flap, he pulled himself out of the deadly sinkhole and hovered safely ten feet in the air.
"Is that really all you've got?" Darian asked, looking down at Crocodile with feigned disappointment. "Didn't I literally just show you that I can fly?"
Darian's deadpan sarcasm might not have sounded like a grand insult, but every dismissive word pierced Crocodile's massive ego.
The Desert Girasole technique controlled the flow of subterranean water beneath the dunes, thereby manipulating the sand to create a massive, inescapable quicksand pit that buried enemies alive, earning it the terrifying moniker of "the desert coffin without a tombstone."
It was a horrific, lethal move against almost any ground-based fighter. But against someone who could hover via magnetism, it was completely useless.
Crocodile's face darkened with absolute fury after being humiliated and outmaneuvered once again.
But this time, Darian didn't wait for Crocodile to launch another terrain attack. He took the offensive. Darian had no habit or intention of being the one passively receiving blows.
"Lightning Thunder Fist!"
Blinding, blue-white lightning coalesced violently around Darian's right fist. With a powerful thrust of his wings, Darian dove downward, unleashing a massive, million-volt punch directly at Crocodile's face.
.....
.....
.....
Support me and read advance chapters on patreon.com/ImmortalDaoWriter