Amid the battlefield, which was thick with the acrid stench of burnt gunpowder, the winds howled, swirling with raw power.
At the edge of Chocolate Island, two figures clashed relentlessly, their Haki surging like an unstoppable storm, forcing the surrounding Marines to keep their distance.
Koby had been carried away by soldiers for emergency treatment. The resilience he had gained through mastering Rokushiki barely kept him clinging to life, but he was still on the brink of death.
Gazing up at the sky, where thick smoke billowed orange from the raging fires, the surviving Marines clenched their fists, their eyes brimming with unshed tears.
"Don't lose, Vice Admiral!"
The deployment of new artillery had briefly given them a fighting chance—just as Franky had once told the Straw Hats, it was like a colony of marching ants standing against the monsters of the sea.
But now, with their artillery positions reduced to rubble, it was back to square one. Against adversaries of this caliber, they were powerless.
All they could do was pray in silence, hoping that Smoker would avenge their fallen comrades.
At the heart of the battlefield, Smoker unsheathed his long-unused weapon— the jitte— swinging it with brutal force to intercept King's upward slash.
White Smoke: Fog World!
A dense ring of white mist erupted around him— an advanced ability born from his Devil Fruit Awakening.
But King's sharp eyes flickered with recognition. He took half a step back before suddenly lifting off the ground, shifting into his hybrid form.
"Its still not enough, Smoker!"
Whoosh…
Shua-la-la!
He spread his massive wings— each spanning over ten meters— and with a powerful flap, whipped up a fierce gust, scattering the fog.
"Hawkins' death wasn't for nothing. Did you really think you could ambush me with this cheap trick?"
Fog World was a domain forged by Smoker, a battlefield entirely under his control— an ability that merged offense, defense, mobility, and disruption into one.
But King was no fool. He had stood among the Three Calamities of the Beasts Pirates for decades, not just through brute force but through calculated, ruthless efficiency.
Victory came from exploiting the enemy's weaknesses. And King never made rookie mistakes.
"Tch!"
His attack foiled once more, Smoker's brow furrowed in frustration.
There was no denying it— King was monstrously strong.
Were it not for his Logia abilities, which allowed him to disperse and avoid the searing heat of King's flames, Smoker knew he would've already fallen.
But even that advantage wasn't enough.
A Logia user, when dispersed, lost all leverage and striking force. If the enemy capitalized on that opening, defeat was instant.
That was precisely why, back at G-5, Rowen hadn't relied on full Elementalization to evade extreme heat— he had nearly let his muscles be cooked just to push his limits.
The first reason was to understand his own endurance.
The second? Recklessly phasing into mist against an unknown opponent was the height of foolishness.
"This is getting troublesome..."
Clang!!
Concubine's Blaze and the jitte collided with earth-shattering force, the ground beneath them shattering like brittle foam, debris scattering in all directions.
The sheer impact was like a bomb going off, sending a rippling shockwave outward, flattening everything in its wake.
"Flame Impact!"
Seeing that their weapons had locked, King abruptly flapped his wings and leapt backward with explosive speed.
"Damn it, I should've kept my distance!" Smoker's gut twisted as he saw King tilt his head back.
He knew what was coming.
SCREEEEECH!!!
A piercing shriek split the air, rattling Smoker's skull like an iron bell struck at full force. His vision blurred, his limbs faltered, and for a moment, his head spun wildly.
An ultrasonic attack!
Zoan users— particularly flying types— often possessed this deadly ability. Their specialized vocal cords could produce devastating high-frequency sound waves. If you could hear it, you were already hit.
Though the technique was rare, Kaido was the ultimate exception.
His roars weren't just ultrasonic— they carried enough force to rupture the air itself, reducing entire structures to rubble with sheer sound alone.
That's why, when fighting King, keeping a mid-range distance was key.
Strike once. Fall back. Never get greedy.
Get too close, and you'd be within range of Concubine's Blaze, a blade that was no ordinary weapon— not to mention the lethal sonic attacks that followed.
Too far, and one would be wise to remember— unlike Marco's Phoenix, which wielded regeneration as its greatest strength, the Pteranodon relied purely on raw power and overwhelming speed, making it the the undisputed ruler of the ancient skies!
Hearing that piercing shriek, Smoker knew he was in trouble. The near-invisible ultrasonic waves had already seeped into his body, rattling his skull and leaving his senses reeling.
But it didn't stop there.
At the same time, flames gathered in King's beak, coalescing into a blazing inferno before he unleashed a searing jet of fire straight at Smoker.
Fortunately, Smoker had the foresight to roll out of the way. Had he hesitated for even a second, the shockwaves alone would've taught him a painful lesson.
If he allowed his body to fully disperse at this distance, there was no way he could keep up with a Zoan's relentless speed.
"Tch… did I dodge it?"
The wind howled and fire crackled as King, still in his hybrid form, crouched on the scorched battlefield, his predatory gaze sweeping for his next strike.
Then, without warning, his wings shifted. Blackened by Busoshoku Haki, their edges sharpened into lethal blades.
Clang!
A gray jitte struck from behind—but King had already anticipated it. With a ruthless sweep of his wing, he deflected the attack, sending Smoker hurtling through the air.
"So, even if he dodged the flames, the ultrasound still did its job," King mused.
The strength behind Smoker's strike was noticeably weaker.
Without wasting another second, King burst forward, his entire body wreathed in flames like a living meteor, aiming to end it in one decisive blow.
Pū chī!
Smoker had no footing to counter. Before he could recover, King's Haki-clad beak pierced clean through his abdomen.
"Urgh—!"
Blood splattered from Smoker's mouth as King seized the moment, withdrawing Concubine's Blaze, ready to cleave him in half.
"It's over, Smoker!"
But at that moment…
"Heh…"
Smoker grinned.
His grip tightened around King's beak, veins bulging against his skin as he refused to let go.
"You fell for it, Conflagration!"
"What?!"
A sudden chill of danger prickled at King's instincts. He turned his head—only to see a dense mass of smoke, tinged orange by the flames, rolling toward him like an ominous storm cloud.
He hadn't even noticed it. Smoker had laid this trap long before.
"Now, try blowing it away in reverse, asshole!"
King's wings could generate powerful gusts, but they only worked in one direction. A Pteranodon couldn't flap its wings backward like a fan.
His escape route was cut off.
Smoker's grin widened as he raised his index finger at King.
"This is my anger!"
White Smoke: White Fist Machine Guns!
Ora!!
White fists, forged from thick smoke, shot forward—whipping, striking, pounding King's back with the speed of a machine gun. Each blow hammered him further into the ground.
Smoker coughed up another mouthful of blood, his breath ragged from the backlash.
"This lunatic… is he trying to crush his own organs?!"
His beak was still embedded in Smoker's stomach. If Smoker kept this up, he'd destroy himself in the process!
"Is he out of his mind?!" King barely had time to react before Smoker's voice cut through the chaos.
"I told you before, didn't I?"
Blood dripped from his lips, but his smirk never wavered.
"Comrades, enemies… myself— it doesn't matter. Death is part of the job."
His grip tightened.
"If you're not ready to die, then don't step onto the battlefield!"
"This is Marine Justice!!"
He roared, and the sky erupted with an endless barrage of White Smoke Iron Fists, crashing down like an unrelenting storm.
Each strike shattered stone. Each impact crushed bone.
The battlefield quaked under the sheer force, the relentless barrage hammering down like torrential rain on waterlogged ground—unstoppable, deafening, suffocating.
Ora Ora Ora!!
Bang bang bang!
It carried the momentum of a war drum, the rhythm of a battle cry.
A scene so intense, it burned itself into the battlefield's history— one that could almost play back in slow motion, frame by frame, like an eternal memory frozen in time.
(End of Chapter.)
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