Hearing the voice ringing in his ears,
Red-Haired Shanks, whose face darkened, suddenly looked up. What entered his gaze were Ragnar's scarlet-glowing three eyes and his left hand reaching high into the sky.
"No!"
That motion—one he had witnessed before—immediately stirred deep fear and anger in him.
Since setting sail, he had faced countless storms, battles, betrayals, and retreats.
But rarely in his decades on the sea had he ever lost his composure like this.
"Blade!"
The thunderous roar echoed through the sky.
Even though his Observation Haki had already shown him what would happen, Shanks couldn't help the fury blazing in his one good eye.
His missing arm—sacrificed in the early days—now truly affected his ability to fight evenly against world-level monsters like Ragnar.
All he could do was watch.
As Ragnar's hand pierced the sky, a three-pointed double-edged spear descended from the heavens in a trail of brilliant silver light.
Like a divine weapon summoned by decree, it burst through the clouds and landed in his waiting grasp.
Though Ragnar did not move, the sheer presence of the weapon exuded terrifying sharpness.
Even seasoned warriors like Ben Beckman and Yasopp felt as if a blade was pressing to their throats.
"Give you face? Who do you think you are?"
"Do I owe you a favor? Hah. I never accept debt. Anyone who owes me pays—
Today, or I collect it myself."
His shout, frigid and sharp, echoed through the ears of every member of the Red Hair Pirates.
Holding the spear in his right hand, Ragnar exuded overwhelming spiritual pressure.
At the same time, he raised his left arm—now wielding a second three-pointed weapon.
Zzt—!
Conqueror's Haki erupted from him in arcs of black lightning, coiling around the weapon like a vengeful storm.
Clang—
Next came the Armament Haki, flooding across the blade like molten ink, reforging it into a pitch-black divine weapon.
As black and red thunder cracked, arcs of energy spiraled from the spear's edge, tearing away the night sky with sheer presence.
"Open the Mountain!"
With both Haki types layered and infused with his unknown fruit ability, Ragnar slashed.
Not at Shanks, but at the Red Force.
The spear cleaved downward.
A simple action. But the result...
Boom—!
A divine force surged from the blade. The sea split like parchment, a thousand-meter gash appearing in the ocean as if a giant sword had torn the world.
Crackling with black and white lightning, the devastating slash surged toward the Red Force.
"Ragnar, don't even think about it!"
Ben Beckman drew his pistol. Armament Haki cloaked it, preparing to fire.
But before he could pull the trigger—
Yamato, already in her Ōguchi no Makami hybrid form, descended with her kanabo raised high.
"Raimei Hakke!" (Thunder Bagua!)
Ben Beckman's eyes narrowed. He swiftly sheathed the pistol and drew his saber instead, slashing upward to parry.
Their clash erupted in a shower of sparks.
Though caught off guard, Beckman's Armament and Conqueror's Haki were well-honed.
His counterattack sent Yamato skidding several steps back.
A rare feat—one that confirmed why he was the most dangerous First Mate among the Four Emperors.
But he did not launch a fierce attack on Yamato. Instead, he turned around and leapt to the bow of the ship, blocking the thunderous slash wave released by Ragnar with a clash of his three-pointed double-edged sword.
"This… is the world beyond Onigashima and Wano?"
"Are these the kinds of warriors who sail these seas?"
"This ocean… is boundless. How exhilarating!"
…
On the other side, Yamato—who had been sent flying back by Ben Beckman's precision strike—landed hard on the deck of the Red Force. But rather than show any frustration or injury, a wild joy gleamed in her eyes.
It was her first real taste of the world outside Wano.
The warriors beyond Kaido's control, the tension of real battle, the vastness of the Grand Line—
All of it struck her like a storm.
The fire of combat burned fiercely in her chest.
The blood of the Oni, inherited from Kaido, boiled in her veins.
"You're mine!"
Recovering her stance mid-slide, Yamato kicked off from the deck, her right foot cracking the wood with raw explosive force.
"Soru!"
—one of the Six Powers of CP9, a movement technique she had seen Ragnar use in his battles against Akainu and Aokiji. Observing from the shadows back then, she had begun to mimic its footwork on instinct.
Chichi—
A sharp sound rang out as she vanished.
Now, Yamato's armament Haki flared to life—no longer rough and inconsistent, but sharp, focused, and lethal.
She raised her weapon: the massive kanabō "Takeru," inherited from Kaido in her personal oath to break from his legacy.
The once half-baked Haki that had plagued her now surged with clarity.
Beckman's blow hadn't crushed her—it had broken the dam.
As her club whistled through the air, coated in pitch-black Busoshoku, a new will emerged in Yamato.
A warrior born not just of lineage, but of purpose and experience—
She was becoming a conqueror of her own right.
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