Though the place where the two clashed was far from Rainbase, even at such a distance, the spectacle could be seen clearly.
The meteor that had fallen from the heavens, the blade that cleaved it apart, and even the clouds split by that strike—everything was visible from the city.
A flock of News Coo circled anxiously above Rainbase.
They could tell something monumental was happening, yet none dared approach. A few reckless ones had tried earlier, and not a single one returned.
Outside the Rain Dinners casino, Robin stood with her arms folded, gazing toward the distant sky beyond the city.
Still, she didn't seem worried.
If Don said he had it handled, then he surely did.
Far from the city's edge, Crocodile had just arrived, his expression grim as he looked toward the desert in the distance.
Even from here, the air felt hotter—tangible proof of the battle's intensity.
Issho stood poised, blade held horizontally before him, his face solemn as he watched Don emerge from the flames.
Moments earlier, the colossal pillar of fire had shrunk and disappeared into Don's body.
"You're the strongest man this old sailor has ever met since leaving the sea," Issho said, his tone grave.
"Oh? So you've met many strong ones before?" Don asked casually, resting Flame on his shoulder.
Issho's lips twitched. "Not really."
"Then that compliment doesn't mean much, does it?" Don chuckled.
Issho shook his head slightly. "No. I mean that since you're this strong, I'll have to go all out."
"Oh? So you've been holding back?" Don blinked, mildly surprised.
Their earlier exchange had already shown Issho's power—comparable to a future admiral, though not quite at that level yet.
Still, his potential was undeniable.
"We're not enemies bound by hatred," Issho said evenly, "but since we're fighting anyway, I'll take this seriously."
The moment he spoke, Don's Observation Haki caught the shift.
Invisible gravitational pressure rippled outward, spreading for kilometers.
Don's body suddenly felt heavier, his knees sinking slightly under the crushing force.
This gravity was far stronger than before.
The entire zone began to sink beneath the immense pressure.
Shing!
Don's eyes flashed as he raised his sword to block a strike.
Boom!
The impact sent him flying.
"Gravity and strength combined, huh? That explains the power," Don muttered midair, quickly analyzing.
By channeling gravity through his blade, Issho amplified his strikes severalfold. The surrounding field slowed Don's movements—an invisible cage of force.
This was Issho's Gravity Domain.
Within it, all who entered were weighed down. Only Issho, the domain's master, was empowered by it.
"Interesting trick," Don smirked, landing in a roll.
But before he could regain footing, Issho was already in front of him again, blade slicing across.
Clang!
Don's own sword met it head-on, Armament Haki wrapping the blade in a deep red glow.
The collision erupted into a violent shockwave, flattening dunes for miles.
Issho's expression changed.
Even under full gravity and Haki reinforcement, this young man was holding steady?
How?
Feeling Don's blade radiate that same hardened aura, Issho frowned.
"If this turns into a fight to the death, that's not my intent," he said.
"It's fine. This is my normal state. The energy drain isn't serious for me."
Don understood Issho's meaning—normally, using that much Haki and stamina would exhaust anyone.
But not him.
For Don, whose abilities were digitized, every expenditure came from his HP—replenishable, sustained by his enhanced vitality.
With his body's regeneration rate, even heavy consumption could balance out over time.
Issho, through his sharp senses, realized Don wasn't lying.
"You really are a monster," he murmured.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Don grinned—and then burst forward, both arms tightening as he launched Issho backward.
Under immense gravity, his next leap was like teleportation—he vanished and reappeared in front of Issho.
But the blind swordsman only smiled.
The next instant, the pressure on Don's body vanished.
Whoosh!
He shot past Issho uncontrollably.
Then—gravity returned.
His momentum faltered, and Issho's blade slashed from behind.
The blow cut through Don's fiery form, scattering embers across the desert before reforming into his body.
"Tch. You're a tricky one."
With a counter-swing, Don forced Issho back and turned to face him squarely again.
Issho's manipulation of gravity—alternating pressure and release—threw off his rhythm.
A clever tactic, but dangerous.
Because in that shifting state, control could easily slip.
Don frowned slightly. Issho did too.
He'd never used this gravity field to its full extent before. In theory, it should have magnified his advantage beyond measure.
Yet now, facing Don, its power seemed almost meaningless.
Especially after that last strike—Don had gone elemental mid-swing, evading entirely.
If that continued, Issho wouldn't even land a hit.
And Don's defenses… were absurd.
The two stood several meters apart, the air between them vibrating from the residual force.
Issho's milky-white eyes turned toward Don, unreadable yet sharp.
Don raised his blade. Flames surged, coiling up the sword's rough edge.
Red lines snaked across the blade as its temperature climbed rapidly.
Issho instinctively took a step back, wary.
Through his Observation Haki, he felt the blade burning hotter and hotter—its heat nearly suffocating.
Flame infused into the blade—this sword shall be named "Rising Sun Edge."
Crimson fire engulfed the weapon as Don raised it high and brought it down in one sweeping arc.
Sound vanished.
Then—silence split.
A vast scar appeared across the desert, stretching far into the horizon.
The sands surged without a whisper.
Using gravity to propel himself aside, Issho perceived the massive canyon through his senses, his face momentarily blank with disbelief.
He could unleash strikes of similar magnitude—but not like that.
That cut… was beyond reason.
END OF CHAPTER
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