PapaSukuna: Yo dear readers, I am back. My exams are finally over and here is your new chapter. Once again, thanks a lot for 100k views. Please keep supporting me like this as it keeps me motivated and helps me to write more....
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"Two down, one to go. Shall we begin… Captain?"
Robert's voice cut through the air like steel, calm yet crushing in weight. A dangerous smile curled across his lips, sharp enough to unsettle even Gol D. Roger. For the first time in a long while, Roger felt a chill race down his spine—not out of fear, but from the primal instinct of standing against something monstrous.
Still, Roger was not a man who knew retreat. He forced a grin onto his face, though stiff at the edges, his pride refusing to let the unease show. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he laughed, low and rough. "Heh heh… looks like this is going to be one hell of a battle!!"
Robert's grin widened, warping into something predatory. Then, without warning, his Haki detonated outward. It crashed across the island like a tsunami, pressure so suffocating that the sky itself darkened in revolt. Black storm clouds spiraled overhead, thunder rumbling as if the heavens resented his existence. Golden energy cascaded from his frame like an endless waterfall, drenching the battlefield in radiant menace.
He stood there, cloaked in golden fury—terrifying, overwhelming, yet impossibly majestic. Roger couldn't help but admit, even in the face of danger: Robert looked almost cool. Too damn cool, standing like a god of war wrapped in his own Haki.
"So, captain… are you ready!?" Robert's voice boomed, shaking the air.
Roger's grin twisted wider, the fire in his chest igniting in response. His own Haki erupted violently, wild and untamed, cloaked in crimson light streaked with crackling black lightning. The ground beneath him shattered from the surge, stone splintering into dust. Bending low into a runner's stance, his whole body vibrated with tension, ready to pounce. "Oh Bobby, you don't know how long I've been waiting for this!!"
He launched forward.
The ground caved beneath his feet, exploding in rubble as Roger shot out like a thunderbolt. His Supreme Grade Blade, Ace, gleamed with Haki, raised high over his head. The air screamed as the sword cleaved downward, a strike roaring with enough force to shatter mountains.
"HAAAAAAAA—!"
But Robert was faster. His body shifted to the side with impossible calm, letting Roger's swing carve into the earth. The ground split wide open, a canyon tearing across the battlefield, the impact blasting trees and debris into the sky.
Robert's eyes gleamed with cold precision. His nodachi hummed as it slashed upward in a diagonal arc—so fast, so clean, it seemed to slice the air itself. The strike should have torn Roger wide open, spraying blood across the ground.
But Roger's instincts screamed. His Advanced Observation Haki flared, showing him the death that awaited. His body twisted back at the last possible moment, narrowly evading the lethal blow. Still, a thin red line burned across his chest, blood trickling down. It wasn't deep, but the sting was sharp enough to remind him just how much Robert was holding back.
Roger hissed through his teeth, wiping sweat from his brow and flicking it aside. "Phew…"
No time to breathe.
Robert lunged like a flash of gold, his foot snapping up in a brutal donkey kick that slammed into Roger's torso. The impact thundered through the battlefield, launching Roger skyward like a cannonball.
Before Roger could recover, Robert moved again. His nodachi blazed with golden light as he unleashed a storm of flying slashes, hundreds of radiant blades streaking through the air toward the airborne pirate. Each one carried death, cutting through the sky with screaming speed.
Roger's eyes sharpened. Kicking against the air itself, he used Geppo, the Rokushiki technique, his legs hammering rapid steps that propelled him higher. Golden slashes grazed past, their energy scorching the air where he had been moments earlier. Twisting his body midair, he turned his fall into an attack, his gaze locked on Robert below.
Like a meteor, he plummeted. His sword rose high, crackling with all his fury, and he brought it down like a hammer meant to crush gods.
Robert stood firm. His nodachi surged upward, colliding against Roger's strike.
The blades didn't meet.
Haki clashed between them, raw willpower colliding with such violence that the air itself split. A thunderclap boomed across the island, windstorms ripping outward from their struggle. Trees tore from the earth, flung skyward like broken twigs. The ground crumbled and tore apart, splitting in jagged scars. Overhead, storm clouds ruptured, splitting the sky in half.
For a moment, they were locked there, two titans straining against each other, the battlefield trembling beneath their wills.
Then Robert smiled.
A small thing—just a grin. Yet it froze Roger's heart. Instinct screamed at him. He tried to pull back, but he was already too late.
Robert pressed forward.
Steel rang like a funeral bell as his nodachi connected with Ace. A single crack split the air—then the blade shattered. Roger's Supreme Grade Sword, his partner through countless battles, exploded into fragments, the shards scattering across the battlefield like dying stars.
Robert's swing continued. The nodachi bit deep into Roger's belly, tearing through flesh with merciless ease. Blood erupted in a crimson spray, the impact blasting Roger off his feet and hurling him across the forest.
He flew like a broken doll, smashing through trees in a trail of devastation. Dozens of trunks exploded into splinters as his body crashed through them, until finally, he slammed into the ground with bone-shaking force. The earth caved in, forming a crater at the point of impact.
Roger lay there, motionless. Blood soaked his stomach, his broken sword still clenched stubbornly in his hand. He coughed violently, scarlet splattering his lips, his breath shallow and ragged. His eyes began to lose their focus, glassy with pain and blood loss.
For the first time in his life, Roger felt death looming close.
Not even the chaos of God Valley, not even his clash with Rocks, had driven him to this brink. There, he had fought like a man possessed, but he had never once felt his life slipping away so clearly, so helplessly. Now, he did.
And yet, despite the agony, a bloody grin tugged at his lips. He laughed—raw, ragged, defiant. The sound tore from his chest like a madman's cry.
'So this is what death feels like…'
The thought came without regret, without anger. He did not curse Robert, nor hate him. This was his choice, his path. He had known where it would end.
But then, within the creeping darkness, a gentle sound filled his mind. A soft laugh. A woman's laugh—sweet, familiar. Rogue's face appeared, framed by the light of memory, warm and alive.
'Man… I always said to live without regret, and yet here I am… thinking about you…'
His grin softened, boyish despite the blood caked on his lips. With that final thought, Gol D. Roger closed his eyes.
And darkness took him.