"Such… kingly might!"
Facing the wrath of Red-Haired Shanks, even someone as strong as King the Wildfire, the lead among the Three Calamities, felt his body stiffen and his heart skip a beat.
His blood flow stagnated. His brain went blank for a moment.
If not for the fact that Hongo's attention was mostly fixed on Shanks, even with King's overwhelming strength and the extraordinary resilience granted by his Ancient Zoan physiology, he would've likely been severely injured under that pressure alone.
"Is this… truly Conqueror's Haki?"
On the side, Yamato, still panting slightly from her earlier clash with Ben Beckman, clenched her fists. Her body trembled as she struggled to withstand the tsunami-like spiritual oppression.
Her gaze drifted to the red-haired man standing tall amid the storm of willpower, his presence alone enough to warp the very atmosphere.
As someone born of a tyrant and raised amidst Haki, she understood more than anyone:
The gap between her own Conqueror's Haki and Shanks' was a canyon.
"Even that bastard's Haki… can't compare."
Kaido—the man she had vowed to surpass since childhood—might match Shanks in raw strength. But in terms of sheer Haoshoku dominance?
Even Kaido, one of the Four Emperors, was utterly eclipsed.
"Maybe… only he can rival it."
Yamato's gaze shifted to Ragnar.
Her younger brother in spirit—someone she had only recently come to know, but who had already shaken her world more than most.
"The only one who can match this red-haired king... might be you, Ragnar."
She didn't know why the thought surfaced.
But seeing Ragnar remain calm, unmoved, even as the air grew thick with oppressive will, she knew:
This was no ordinary youth.
He had battled Akainu and Aokiji alone.
Now he stood against the Red Hair Pirates with nothing but family beside him—and still controlled the pulse of the battlefield as if he were its conductor.
Yamato clenched her fists harder.
In spirit—if not yet in title—he was already a king.
Meanwhile…
After witnessing Yasopp lose his arm, his title, and finally his life at King's hand—no, at Ragnar's orchestration—Shanks was consumed by fury.
"Yasopp!!"
His mind was flooded with memories, like scenes flashing across a burning reel.
Yasopp—his friend who had crossed seas to join him in the East Blue.
The sniper who had left behind family, risking everything to follow Red-Haired Shanks.
The third-ranking officer of the Red Hair Pirates—fallen.
And for what?
Because of his decision to halt the war.
He had saved Akainu and Aokiji—enemies.
But he had lost the Red Force, their ship—cut down by Ragnar.
And worse, he had lost Yasopp, executed by King under Ragnar's plan.
A captain… powerless to protect what mattered most.
Regret. Rage. Grief.
It all boiled over.
A torrent of Haoshoku Haki erupted from Shanks—unfiltered, apocalyptic.
"Yasopp!!"
He screamed to the heavens as tears welled in his eyes.
Crackle…!
Black lightning surged like furious dragons, entwining around his saber Gryphon.
Then—
He merely raised his blade.
And with that gesture alone, the storm of Conqueror's Haki lashed outward like a freed demon, rending the sky and sea.
CRACK!!
Not long ago, the once mirror-like surface of the sea—flattened by overwhelming Conqueror's Haki—was torn into hundreds of jagged, crisscrossing cracks by thunderous waves of domination.
From a distance,
it looked as if Whitebeard had struck the ocean himself with the Tremor-Tremor Fruit,
raising giant ripples—layered like an endless staircase of water.
"Why... Ragnar, tell me—why did you do this?"
"Why chase me so relentlessly... why scheme against Yasopp?!"
"You're the great True Lord—equal in name to the Four Emperors—yet your actions are utterly despicable!"
Red-haired Shanks' eyes were bloodshot, blazing with fury like a demon king risen from the depths of hell.
"Despicable?"
"Hah!" Ragnar scoffed, a mocking smile spreading across his otherwise frosty expression.
"Red-haired, don't you find your words... laughable?"
"You, of all people, have no right to say that here."
"Who was it that meddled in my affairs the moment I defeated Akainu and Aokiji?"
"Who rallied the power of the Four Emperors to hunt down my family?"
"A Yonko crew ganging up on a family of three... and you—you have the audacity to stand here, preaching about honor?"
Every word slammed into Shanks like cannon fire, turning his face green, then purple, in suppressed rage.
Clang—
Ragnar lifted his three-pointed, double-edged blade and aimed it squarely at Shanks.
"What did you think war was?"
"What did you take me for, Red-haired Shanks?"
"Did you think I was here to play pretend?!"
Three cold, scornful questions.
Each one heavier than the last.
And for a moment—Shanks, legendary emperor of the sea, was left speechless, fury swirling just beneath the surface.
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