Creed stared at Crocodile—no doubt, worthy of being a great pirate with an 880 million berry bounty over ten years ago.
Crocodile was around forty now. In his early twenties, he had risen like a comet, shaking the seas with his name.
He entered the New World, challenged Whitebeard, and after his defeat, accepted the World Government's offer to become one of the Shichibukai—pirates granted legal plunder.
Though his bounty was only 88 million, that was because the moment one became a Shichibukai, their bounty was frozen.
That number was from over ten years ago—his very first bounty.
And the first time he was wanted, it was directly set at 88 million!
Only one other shared such a feat—Boa Hancock, also a Shichibukai, whose first bounty was 80 million.
This Crocodile was leagues stronger than Iron-Arm Madman.
His Devil Fruit powers, his battle experience—he was a formidable opponent.
Yet, at the same time, Crocodile himself was shaken. Was this really a Marine who had only set out to sea recently? This power was terrifying!
But his eyes hardened. No matter what, Creed had to die here.
Losing his Shichibukai title was nothing. He had accepted the Government's offer for one reason only: to plunder under their protection, slowly erode Alabasta, build himself into a national hero, and ultimately uncover the Poneglyph that revealed Pluton's location.
...
Crocodile's body melted into sand again, vanishing into the desert floor. In an instant, he reappeared at Creed's side, golden hook thrusting toward him.
Creed met him head-on.
Clang!
Bang! Bang!
The two clashed violently.
Craters formed across the desert floor. Their movements were so fast, ordinary eyes couldn't follow—only explosions of sand marked their paths, dunes collapsing one after another.
Rip—!
Crocodile's body turned to sand and retreated.
He looked down—blood poured from his abdomen. A wound.
Creed smirked. Crocodile's Devil Fruit was powerful, but his close combat was weak. Against Creed, whose swordsmanship was ranked SS+, close-quarters was suicide.
Seizing momentum, Creed stepped forward—Soru bursting beneath his feet—blade raised, he charged.
"Sabaku Ōtsubo (Desert Sunflower)!"
The ground beneath Creed collapsed, turning into a swamp of sand, halting him.
Crocodile scowled. He knew he couldn't win up close.
Then he'd fight at range. Grind him down.
This was the desert. His domain.
Sand swirled around Crocodile's body, gathering, writhing. From the storm, several sand dragons emerged.
Under his control, they merged, entwined, until they became a colossal nine-headed sand dragon!
Its body was massive, thirty meters thick, stretching across the sky with overwhelming force. Nine savage heads thrashed, voiceless roars shaking the air, as though alive.
Then—
It lunged. A mountain of sand crashing down, carving deep trenches in the desert.
Creed's eyes narrowed. He swung his blade.
A slash of sword aura shot forth, severing one head clean off.
But in moments, the head reformed. All nine remained.
Shing—! Shing—!
He slashed again, multiple waves of sword aura cutting all nine heads down.
But they reformed once more.
Creed frowned. Even cutting all nine at once didn't work?
Sword aura crackled around him as he raised his blade, Reincarnation, and stepped forward. "Enzan (Flame Slash)!!"
A massive, black sword aura streaked across the air, friction igniting it into orange flames.
Slash!!
The strike cleaved straight through the dragon, splitting it from crown to tail.
But again, it reformed.
"Tch. Annoying. Then I'll scatter you so thoroughly you can't reform."
Drawing a deep breath, Creed's sword aura surged, his robes whipping in the storm. Lightning flickered across Reincarnation's blade.
He poured all his sword intent into the tip, the black blade glowing like a blazing black lamp.
Then he swung.
"Jinrai: Zan!! (Thunderclap: Slash!!)"
…
(End of Chapter)
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