The moment their Conqueror's Haki collided, the air trembled with raw force. A shockwave erupted outward, shaking the battlefield and splitting clouds high above.
No one had expected that a mere clash of fists would unleash such a devastating tremor.
"Garp! You really are getting old!" Redfield roared.
With a snarl, his right arm bulged with sinew and power. His fist crashed through Garp's Haki barrier and struck clean against his opponent's knuckles, blasting the Marine Hero out of the air with staggering force.
Whoosh—Boom!
Garp's body turned into a streak of white light and slammed into the ground far below. A crater hundreds of meters wide exploded outward from the impact. Red soil cracked and ruptured in all directions, the shockwave rumbling across the horizon.
Redfield hovered in the sky, expression unreadable. Then, with a swift motion, he raised his leg and launched a volley of slashes downward, his voice calm and sharp.
"Tempest Kick: Rainstorm."
Swish. Swish. Swish.
Dozens of luminous, crescent-shaped blades of compressed air rained down like a hailstorm, streaking toward the smoking crater in blinding succession.
Onlookers gasped.
Two old titans, fighting with such ferocity that even the new era felt distant.
But Garp was no relic. Inside the pit, he stood tall, steam rising from his shoulders. His cloak, tattered from the impact, slipped from his shoulders as he clenched his fists with a grin.
"Hmph. You think that's enough to bury me, Red?"
He drove his fists forward in rapid succession.
"Meteor Fist!"
Whoosh. Whoosh.
A red fist of compressed air surged upward from the crater. It tore through the sky like cannonballs hurled from the depths of the underworld, the first crackling with Armament and Conqueror's Haki, aimed to shatter everything in its path.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The Tempest Kicks met the fist in mid-air. Explosions rocked the sky, scattering debris and lighting up the sky in bursts of blue and gold.
Even then, neither fighter relented.
In a flash, Garp launched himself into the air, and Redfield descended to meet him. Their fists clashed again and again, each impact rippling through the atmosphere, warping the very sky around them.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The air cracked under the pressure of their relentless hand-to-hand exchange. Haki roared around them, black lightning dancing like serpents in a storm.
After another brutal collision, the two separated once more, hovering opposite each other.
Garp grinned, blood on his lip but fire in his eyes.
"Redfield. You're not quite as sharp as I remember."
Red the Aloof raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Oh? Don't tell me you forgot. That fight decades ago? I only used my fists."
Garp blinked, caught off guard.
"You're saying you know more than just brawling?"
"Obviously."
Redfield raised a hand. Black mist coiled around his palm, solidifying into the shape of a sword. It took the form of a long, curved blade forged from swirling black energy. The air around it distorted, and a deep hum pulsed from its edge.
A dragon-headed hilt emerged, snarling silently.
Garp's eyes narrowed.
"That sword… It's like Kizaru's light blade."
"Similar," Redfield admitted. "But Borsalino's tricks are nothing compared to mine."
He held the blade high.
"Witness the apex of my swordsmanship."
He channeled his Conqueror's Haki into the blade.
Crimson arcs slithered across the obsidian steel like veins filled with cursed blood. The weapon pulsed with a low hum, ancient and malevolent, as if echoing the heartbeat of a tyrant entombed in legend. Around him, the air twisted into a spiraling maelstrom, whispering with the voices of the damned.
"Fang of Dracul: Heaven's Rend."
A silent quake answered the call.
The clouds above split in two as if clawed open by a phantom talon.
Even across the battlefield, Dracule Mihawk glanced toward the source. His pupils contracted.
"What overwhelming swordsmanship…"
Shanks, standing beside the others, furrowed his brow.
"So… Redfield's finally going all out," he said quietly. "Garp might be in trouble."
Even Dragon, who watched from afar, narrowed his gaze.
As Redfield raised the obsidian dragon-blade, the pressure in the air shifted.
On that sword, Garp could feel a genuine threat to his life.
His eyes narrowed. That blade wasn't just powerful but lethal.
The expression on Garp's face grew grim. Without hesitation, his entire body was wrapped in a roaring surge of Armament Haki. His muscles tensed, his breath slowed, and his focus locked entirely on the former pirate legend floating in the sky.
Whoosh.
In a single movement, Redfield slashed.
The blade carved through the air, releasing a massive arc of black and red sword energy that stretched across the battlefield. The slash howled as it traveled, tearing apart the clouds in its path.
"Galaxy Impact!"
With a roar, Garp met the attack head-on. His fist, wrapped in a storm of Armament and Conqueror's Haki, smashed into the incoming slash.
Boom!
The sky trembled. Sparks and arcs of dark lightning lashed out as Haki collided with Haki in mid-air. For a moment, the power of both legends clashed in perfect symmetry, a frozen storm of force balanced on the edge of destruction.
Zzzzzzz—
Crack!
Then the balance broke. Garp's body was forced downward, the sword energy pushing past his fist and slicing across his chest. He was sent flying once again, crashing into the earth with an impact that split the ground.
An enormous explosion followed.
A shockwave engulfed everything within a kilometer. The red soil detonated outward in all directions, and a massive mushroom cloud of smoke and fire billowed into the sky.
None had expected this.
Could Redfield's sword energy detonate?
It defied logic. It was outrageous.
"Garp!"
From a distant ridge, Sengoku's pupils shrank, his voice rising in alarm. As a former Fleet Admiral, he understood more than anyone the sheer precision behind Redfield's strike. The blade hadn't simply cut. It had detonated with intent. That sword energy was layered with explosive force born from concentrated Haki.
He clenched his fists. "Even Garp couldn't fully repel that."
"Vice Admiral Garp!"
Momousagi, standing among the remaining Marine forces, called out, her voice unsteady. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the smoldering crater.
That sword... she knew she couldn't have blocked it. Not even close. Had she been the one to face it, the result would've been a critical injury or worse, complete incapacitation.
Across the field, the Four Elders looked on in stunned silence. Even they, usually unshaken, stared with visible tension. Each had sensed Garp's monstrous power earlier when his punch made the air itself ring.
And yet, Redfield's blade had drawn blood.
They knew: if that attack had come for them, none would have escaped unscathed.
Only one among the World Government forces remained unmoved. The woman floating silently in the sky, her gaze calm and unchanging, gave no visible reaction.
Fwoosh...
After nearly a full minute, the smoke began to clear.
Garp rose slowly from the crater, blood trickling down his side. A vicious slash ran from his right shoulder to his left rib. His coat was tattered, scorched in places from the explosion. Blackened patches dotted his hair and uniform, and smoke drifted from the tears in his clothes.
But his stance remained firm.
Thanks to his unyielding Haki, the bleeding had been sealed before it could worsen. The injury was real, and the damage was significant, but for a man like Garp, it was far from fatal.
This is just a scratch.
In battles at this level, victory came not from single, decisive blows but from the slow wearing down of will and stamina. This wound, while dramatic, wasn't enough to slow Garp's momentum.
If it had been, he would never have earned the title of Marine Hero.
And yet, because it was Garp, the impact of seeing him wounded rippled like thunder.
Gulp.
Shock echoed not only across the ranks of the World Government but among Buggy's growing force as well. Even the seasoned fighter who had just disembarked from Pluton. Tesoro, Katakuri, and Stussy stared in silence.
Now they understood.
Why Buggy had warned them not to interfere.
Whether it was that sword technique or Garp's punch just now, taking a direct hit from either one could have left the other critically wounded, if not entirely out of commission. At this level of battle, no one else could possibly intervene.
PffftGarp tore off the shredded remnants of his uniform and spat out a mouthful of blood. Despite the fresh wound across his torso, he grinned up at Redfield and chuckled."Redfield, when are you going to stop holding back? You really think I'm so old you need to go easy on me?"
As soon as those words left his mouth, the entire battlefield erupted into murmurs.
That sword slash just now… wasn't that him going all out?
People looked around in disbelief, struggling to comprehend what they had just heard. Even across the world, where the live broadcast streamed into homes, bars, and dens filled with pirates and civilians alike, the shock was the same.
Wasn't that the move that just tore open the Marine hero, the man who helped bring down the Rocks Pirates and chased Roger across the seas?
Could it really be that Redfield hadn't even used his full strength?
Among the most shaken were the pirates from the Supernova Alliance who had only recently emerged from Paradise. On their island in the New World, shared by the crews of Kid, Hawkins, and Apoo, they watched with wide eyes and clenched jaws.
This island had become a haven for newcomers, a neutral ground far from the territories of the Four Emperors. Ambitious pirates had come here dreaming of conquest. But now, watching this war unfold, cold sweat trickled down their backs.
Now they understood why that man had banned a monster like Katakuri from even stepping onto the battlefield.
Against opponents of this caliber, only those at the Admiral level or higher had any right to be involved. They would be crushed the moment they stepped onto the frontlines of Mary Geoise.
In that moment, the full weight of reality hit them. The gap between them and the true monsters of the world was incomprehensibly vast. There was no comparison.
Meanwhile, atop the Red Line, within the heights of Pangaea Castle, Redfield stood calmly, his voice carrying easily across the distance.
"Heh. I was just worried that if I finished you off too quickly, it'd get boring. Don't you get it, Garp? You're old. If you really want to challenge me, bring Sengoku too. Otherwise, this fight ends with your funeral."
---
Enjoyed the chapter?
You can read 40k words ahead and gain exclusive access to even more content over at P*treon.c*m/Marioni!