Dark light danced, purple flames bloomed like flowers, spewing out a domineering and cold sharpness.
Only then did everyone finally see the appearance of the sword.
The 21 Great Grade Blades, Enma, the "Destroyer of Hell"!
Drip, drip...
Kozuki Oden's eyes were filled with bloodshot veins as he stared intently at the cursed sword trembling in front of him.
The sharp blade had sliced through his palm, and half of the tip was embedded into the flesh of his chest, blood gushing out.
"Oden-san..."
Looking at the emaciated, hunched figure with one shoulder's sleeve hanging empty, Shanks' expression turned extremely complex, a deep sadness welling up in his heart.
Since the last crushing defeat against that Marine on Fish-Man Island, Oden had completely changed.
The spirit and boldness that once shone in his eyes had vanished, replaced by endless days and nights of drowning himself in alcohol, drinking until he was utterly drunk.
His eyes were empty. Sometimes he would weep loudly, sometimes laugh maniacally.
The rare moments when he was sober were only when Captain Roger asked him to interpret the ancient writings on the Poneglyphs.
He no longer practiced swordsmanship.
What sword did he have left to practice with?
Not only had Enma been taken, but even the Ame no Habakiri, said to rival Enma and capable of cutting the heavens, had been stolen away by that damned Marine.
Still, none of Roger's crew tried to comfort him or say anything.
They simply sighed inwardly.
For a powerful dual-wielding samurai, to lose both swords—and even an arm—was a blow no ordinary person could bear.
Rayleigh also gave Oden a deep look before refocusing on the sword flashes still darting through the sky, unable to spare any attention elsewhere.
"Enma..."
Kozuki Oden whispered softly, gripping the trembling cursed sword tightly.
A wisp of black and red Armament Haki swirled around his arm, trying to transfer into Enma.
However, just as the Ryuo was about to touch Enma, the cursed blade suddenly rejected him with violent tremors.
Hiss!
A burst of blood splattered from Kozuki Oden's palm, and with a grunt of pain, the cursed sword tore itself free from his grasp.
Immediately after...
The four swords that had been weaving through the air, forming a storm of sword shadows over the Oro Jackson, suddenly froze midair, as if displaying a human-like hesitation.
It was as if they had taken a deep, scrutinizing look at Roger's pirate crew—then, with a simultaneous cry, they shot off as four streaks of light toward the depths of the island.
The suffocating sense of threat disappeared without a trace.
Bang!
Shanks and Buggy both collapsed onto the deck with a thud, gasping for air, their faces pale.
"We finally survived..."
Buggy muttered, relieved beyond words.
Shanks forced a smile and said,
"You couldn't have died. Those four swords wouldn't have killed you."
"You have the nerve to say that! I haven't even settled the score with you yet!"
Buggy sprang up like a cat stung by a bee, grabbed Shanks' face with both hands, and growled through gritted teeth:
"You bastard, you used me as a shield!?"
Shanks' face twisted under Buggy's grip, but he laughed it off without a care.
The other crew members sat scattered across the deck, still shaking, their tensed hearts and bodies finally beginning to relax.
The fear of being impaled at any moment and the extended period of high tension had left them all physically and mentally drained.
Rayleigh gripped his sword with one hand, panting slightly, sweat beading on his forehead.
He gazed toward the depths of the island, his eyes heavy with thought, and let out a long sigh.
"Is it over..."
…
Deep in the jungle on a desert island.
Two figures, bursting with fighting spirit, collided wildly like roaring beasts, their sword flashes cascading like waterfalls and explosive whirlwinds violently intertwining, tearing apart everything in their path.
From high above, the jungle's towering trees could be seen collapsing across a vast area, sending smoke and dust billowing into the sky.
"Wahahaha! Daren! Come on!"
Roger laughed wildly, swinging the long sword in his hand.
The sword light poured down like a waterfall, dense with black and red lightning flashing back and forth.
"Roger!"
Daren also let out a fierce laugh, his body covered in blood.
Yet he charged forward without hesitation, one hand forming a domineering dragon claw, the other a crushing iron fist, both bursting with terrifying black lightning.
Boom!
Another violent collision!
A powerful shockwave rippled out, lifting all the trees and vegetation within hundreds of meters like ocean waves.
A hellish gale swept through every corner of the jungle.
The long sword sliced into Daren's flesh, carving a deep gash along his side that exposed the bone.
The iron fist hammered Roger's chest, and the sound of cracking ribs rang out sharp and painful.
In the next second...
The two men, locked together, crashed into the ground like falling stars, carving a long trench over a hundred meters through the earth.
"Wahahaha! That feels good!"
Roger's eyes burned with unrestrained battle spirit.
Despite the searing pain from his fractured ribs, he paid it no mind, gripping his blood-soaked sword tightly.
As the thick smoke and dust quickly dispersed, Roger froze at the sight before him.
"What is this?"
The ruins of a grand palace lay in devastation, blood pooled across the ground, and corpses were scattered everywhere…
Among them, the mutilated body of a Celestial Dragon.
"Let's call it here for today, Roger."
Roger jerked his head up, his pupils shrinking.
He saw the blood-streaked figure of the Vice Admiral, Daren, hovering in the sky above, looking down at him with a faint smile.
"You bastard!! Don't you dare run! Our fight isn't over yet!"
Roger roared furiously.
He had only just begun to enjoy himself!
Daren grinned but ignored him, swooping downward like a hunting falcon.
His speed was astonishing—within the blink of an eye, he had vanished toward the coast.
...
Meanwhile, near the coast.
Doflamingo, barely standing against Gaban's relentless assault, was already covered in wounds and swaying unsteadily.
Facing Gaban, who was once again charging with his giant axes raised, blood seeped from Doflamingo's mouth and nose as his consciousness blurred.
"Let's end this, young man!"
Gaban leaped high into the air.
The blood-stained double axes reflected a chilling gleam in the sunlight.
Suddenly—
A figure dove down from the sky at unimaginable speed, slamming into the ground.
Black, polished military boots kicked out with devastating force, the impact like a collapsing mountain.
A whip kick collided heavily with the descending giant axe.
Clang!
Boom!!
An explosive shockwave erupted outward.
Gaban's face changed, forced back several steps.
The terrifying force transmitted through the axes made it feel as if he were grappling against a warrior of the Giant Race.
Before he could react, four blinding streaks of light tore through the air, forcing Gaban to retreat even further.
Caught off guard, bloody wounds ripped open along his waist and legs.
Daren, grabbing the unconscious Doflamingo with one hand, sensed something and turned his head.
His fierce gaze met the distant figures aboard the Oro Jackson.
In those eyes filled with rage and hatred, there was also an undeniable shadow of dread.
"Goodbye, and good luck."
Daren casually wiped the blood from his face, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
"By the way, there are no Poneglyphs here."
As his words fell, he lifted Doflamingo easily with one hand and soared skyward, disappearing into the clouds within moments.
Four sword lights followed close behind, tearing through the air with sharp, piercing screeches, leaving long smoky trails across the sky.
...
(100 Chapters Ahead)
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