Shabak City—where the true outcome of the war would be decided—the massive battleship hovering in the sky had ceased its bombardment.
The reason was simple: the remaining ordinary Slaveholder troops had already been completely slaughtered by the fifty naval officers on the ground. There was no longer any need to risk further damage to the buildings.
More importantly, additional shelling might affect their own side.
Now, the entire desert city had become a brutal arena. Fifty elite Marines in white coats were locked in a fierce melee with the black-striped warriors who resembled savage beasts.
Due to being outnumbered, each Marine officer had to face off against at least two of the berserker-like guards at once. The fighting was blindingly fast—white and black shadows clashing in every direction.
Five minutes of Hero Water might sound brief, but for superhumans, every second was enough for dozens of exchanges. They had immense stamina, incredible strength, and blistering speed.
[Boom! Boom!]
Clay houses collapsed under heavy impacts. Craters cratered the sand-filled ground, each all-out strike followed by thunderous shockwaves and screaming winds.
Roars, battle cries, clashing steel, and the occasional scream of pain filled the air. The soundscape was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Suddenly, a swirling green whirlwind appeared in the sky—Dragon had finally made his move.
He didn't know what these black-striped warriors were exactly, nor did he realize Hero Water's effect only lasted five minutes. What he saw was his elite troops steadily getting injured.
So far, no one had been seriously wounded or killed. But he wasn't about to wait until that changed.
Dragon had originally been waiting for the Slave King, King Taklama, to appear. But after waiting and waiting with no sign of him, he decided to eliminate these strange berserkers first.
In an instant, his entire body transformed into a rapidly spinning tornado. He became a monstrous drill of green wind, ripping through the battlefield in a storm of blood and carnage, leaving destruction in his wake.
No matter how crazed or powerful the black-striped warriors became after drinking Hero Water, once they were caught by Dragon's wind, death was instant.
Unstoppable.
In that moment, Dragon showcased the terrifying power of a top-tier Logia-type.
[Whooooshhhhh—!]
Just as Dragon's tornado form rampaged through Shabak City, and the Marines around him finally allowed themselves a flicker of excitement, a massive surge of yellow sand burst from one of the entrances leading underground.
[BOOM!]
The next moment, the yellow sandstorm and the green tornado collided violently. A devastating gust exploded outward, flinging all nearby black-striped warriors and Marines out of the city center.
Then, the two forces twisted together into a towering cyclone of sand and wind. It shot into the sky, rising higher and higher, quickly surpassing even the massive battleship above.
"Well, well. So you're a Logia-type too? Want to be my slave~~?"
Amid this high-altitude realm of swirling green and yellow, a voice filled with excitement and mockery echoed beside Dragon's ears.
But Dragon's mind was focused on something else entirely.
"What's going on with this Slave King's ability? Is he Logia-type too? But the intel said he was Paramecia..."
Although King Taklama wore a golden mask, the gaze he directed at Dragon beneath it burned with intensity. Previously, he had considered sparing the man—if only to avoid provoking Garp.
But now, his thoughts had shifted.
This man was a Logia user. Could there be a finer slave than that?
He wanted to make Dragon his slave—his pet. And for that, he was more than willing to become mortal enemies with Garp. Logia abilities were simply too tempting to resist.
Besides, once this battle ended, he would find a way to vanish again—slipping back into the shadows of the underworld. As long as he stayed hidden from Garp, what could go wrong?
The thought passed in a flash.
With a violent swing of his golden scepter, King Taklama sent a chilling shockwave tearing through the air. It was shrouded in an invisible layer of Armament Haki and aimed directly at Dragon's back.
Sensing danger, Dragon reacted instantly. His right hand formed a claw and darkened with Armament Haki, forcefully intercepting the savage blow.
[Clang—!]
As claw met scepter, the sandstorms raging around them were instantly swept away by the resulting shockwave, revealing both Dragon and King Taklama in full view.
But before anyone could react, Dragon was struck and sent flying—slamming hard into the deck of the warship. Fortunately, the passive effect of his elemental body prevented any real damage. His form scattered into wind, only to swiftly reform into a humanoid shape.
"What powerful Armament Haki!"
Dragon's cold gaze locked on King Taklama, who stood midair atop a swirling mass of yellow-brown sand. That earlier strike had made their difference in strength all too clear.
The man's Haki didn't completely overpower his own—but it was definitely superior.
Still, Dragon had anticipated as much. After all, this was the King of Slaves in the underworld. If he didn't have at least this level of strength, that would be the real surprise.
But so what?
[Whoosh—!]
Dragon's body tensed, cyclones swirling around him. Then he shot forward like a green comet, charging without hesitation.
Naturally, the other man had no reason to retreat. His golden scepter also darkened with Armament Haki. With expert precision, he swung it again and again, unleashing streaks of black light while sandstorms surged upward from beneath his feet to meet the assault.
The green whirlwind collided with the yellow sandstorm once more.
[Clang! Clang! Clang!]
A barrage of chaotic metallic strikes echoed across the skies of Shabak. With every collision, sonic booms rippled outward—waves of compressed air visible to the naked eye, as if the sky itself had turned to liquid.
King Taklama couldn't help but admire Dragon's combat technique.
The better Dragon performed, the more pleased the Slave King became. He had originally assumed the young man—just a Rear Admiral—only stood out because of his Logia powers.
But now, after crossing blows, he judged that Dragon was far beyond ordinary Rear Admirals—stronger even than many Vice Admirals he had fought in the past.
Still… not strong enough.
You want to defeat me? You've got a long way to go, the King thought with mad glee.
Suddenly, his free left hand lit up with a strange, bright green glow.
Compared to the natural emerald winds swirling around Dragon, this green radiance was lurid and sinister—its mere presence enough to make onlookers frown.
"Hm?!"
Still clashing head-on with the golden scepter, Dragon's senses screamed of incoming danger—his Observation Haki had issued a clear warning. Without hesitation, he turned to wind and retreated in streaks of vapor.
In that fleeting moment, while in his wind form, Dragon saw the source of the threat—a green ring slicing through the air, flying past the spot where he had stood only seconds before.
"So it's true. Your power is the Paramecia-type Pet-Pet Fruit. The intel wasn't wrong."
Dragon's expression remained cold, but deep down, he felt a chill of unease.
If he had been caught by that ring just now—he would've been finished!
Armament Haki could indeed counter Devil Fruit abilities, but only if the Haki was stronger than the opponent's mastery of their power. Otherwise, it would simply be overpowered—and he'd fall victim to the ability.
Given the Slave King's strength, Dragon really couldn't take that risk. From now on, he'd have to watch out for sneak attacks from those green rings. If he could dodge them, he would.
"Hahahahaha!"
Hearing Dragon's words, King Taklama opened his glowing green left hand and let out a perverse, arrogant laugh.
"Yes! Isn't this power incredible? It allows me to turn anyone into my slave! And soon, you'll be one too—my best slave!"
Dragon didn't show a hint of anger in response. His expression remained cold as he asked, "Then what's with this power to control sand and wind?"
As he spoke, his Observation Haki swept out in all directions. He suspected that the man was using the Pet-Pet Fruit to control someone with sand-based powers.
"That? Well, it's not really something I can share," the King replied with a sneer. "After all, a true king must remain mysterious~"
He wasn't some rookie fresh out to sea. No way he'd casually reveal the details of his abilities.
Dragon snorted in response. It was just a probing question anyway—far too many muscle-brained idiots in this world never thought to use their heads.
...Though for some reason, as that thought crossed his mind, an image of that idiot old man digging in his nose suddenly popped up.
"Enough chit-chat, boy!"
Growing impatient, King Taklama waved his glowing green hand lightly through the air. Behind him, countless green rings began materializing out of nowhere—filling the sky in dense clusters. Just at a glance, there were already over a thousand, and the number continued to grow.
"Be a good boy and become my slave. I'll treat you well, hahahahaha—!"
The next instant, all the rings transformed into streaking green meteors, shooting toward Dragon like a tidal wave ready to consume him.
Dragon instantly activated his hurricane powers. A lifelike wind dragon emerged around him, coiling protectively. The dragon surged forward and, about ten meters ahead, transformed into a massive green wind barrier—intercepting the incoming rings.
[Whip, whip, whip—]
But despite the barrier's overwhelming might—like a green tsunami—each of the rings pierced through it with ease, as if popping soap bubbles.
Seeing this, Dragon's expression darkened. On the other hand, King Taklama burst into laughter, utterly unsurprised.
"A battle between Devil Fruit powers is about mastery and development. Logia types might be the strongest of the three classes in theory—but that alone can't bridge the gap between us!"
"So what?" Dragon's eyes remained firm, undaunted. "Justice will always triumph over evil. This time, you're the one who'll lose!"
Faced with wave after wave of green rings, Dragon twisted through the air surrounded by emerald cyclones—leaving afterimages behind as he focused every ounce of attention on evading them.
"Justice?"
"What a joke. In this world, there are only masters and slaves. The weak are slaves, the strong are masters—and the strongest of all becomes master of everyone."
Raising his golden royal scepter high, King Taklama lifted his masked face toward the blazing sun in the sky, proclaiming his ultimate ambition: "I, Taklama—will become the master of the world under the name of the Slave King!!"