The New World, territory of the Red Hair Pirates.
A Coffin Boat slowly sailed into the harbor, its hull emanating a unique, chilling aura as if the very air around it had stilled upon its arrival.
The crew of the Red-Haired Pirates immediately grew alert, their eyes fixed on the approaching vessel.
"Whoa, Hawk-Eyes?"
"What brings you to our territory?"
But Mihawk gave no response.
His gaze was cold, his steps calm as he walked wordlessly toward the heart of the base.
"Yo, Hawk-Eyes?"
A familiar voice called out from the side.
The man was tall, draped in a dark blue cloak with spiral patterns, his gray hair slicked back and a cross-shaped scar marking his left temple.
The first mate of the Red-Haired Pirates—Ben Beckman.
"Captain!" Beckman called in a low voice.
Shanks emerged leisurely from the ship, dressed in an unbuttoned white shirt, brown cropped pants, and flip-flops.
His eyes lingered on Mihawk for a moment before a smile tugged at his lips.
"Mihawk? What a rare guest!"
"Here for a duel?"
Mihawk scoffed lightly. "Hmph, what's the point of dueling a one-armed man?"
He pulled out a copy of the East Blue News from his coat and handed it to Shanks.
"Take a look."
Shanks raised an eyebrow, accepting the newspaper and flipping through it casually.
His eyes skimmed the familiar text until they landed on the bounty poster.
In that instant, the image on the paper came into view—Luffy's trademark grin, both familiar and impossible not to laugh at.
Shanks studied the bounty poster for a moment before suddenly bursting into laughter.
"DAHAHAHA!"
"Luffy, you've finally made it, huh?"
He passed the newspaper to Beckman beside him, his eyes brimming with pride and anticipation.
"I'll be waiting for you in the New World!"
Turning to his crew, Shanks immediately commanded, "Hey, boys! Prepare a feast! We've got something big to celebrate today!"
"Mihawk, care to join us for a drink?"
"Not interested. I had my fill of fun this trip—I'm heading back to rest."
Mihawk stood to the side, shaking his head slightly. "I was planning to go home and sleep, but then I saw this."
"Thought of what you mentioned before about that kid from the East Blue, so I figured I'd bring it to you."
At that moment, Beckman looked up from the newspaper, pointing at the headline with a hint of skepticism.
"Mihawk, is this for real? 'A swordsmanship even you couldn't comprehend'?"
Mihawk glanced at the paper and nodded.
"Indeed. Mike's slash was quite profound—unconventional, yet ingenious."
He paused, a flicker of insight in his eyes. "Though, on the way here, I've already started piecing it together."
"Oh?"
Shanks, who had been directing his crew for the feast, turned back, a trace of surprise crossing his face.
"Mike?"
He arched an eyebrow.
"The slacker captain from the East Blue you mentioned before?"
"I always thought his 'Breathing Style' was just some trick."
Mihawk fell silent for a moment, his gaze profound as he responded in a low voice.
"Shanks, do you really think I'd fall for such petty tricks?"
"HAHAHAHA!"
Shanks laughed even more heartily, his booming laughter carrying a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Who knows? You're such a homebody who can't be bothered with people—how can I be sure you haven't been fooled at some point?"
Mihawk's brow furrowed slightly, a cold glint flashing in his eyes as his voice dropped into a threatening tone.
"Shanks, it seems you truly want another duel with me."
His hand slowly reached behind his back, gripping the legendary Black Blade—"Yoru."
"Wouldn't have it any other way!"
Shanks shrugged, his own hand resting on the hilt of "Gryphon" at his waist.
"Come on, let me see just how extraordinary this 'Breathing Style' you admire really is!"
"Then watch closely!"
Mihawk's voice was cold.
The moment he finished speaking, he drew Yoru from his back.
In an instant, an overwhelming pressure radiated from him.
The air around them seemed to solidify, pressing down until it was almost suffocating.
The members of the Red Hair Pirates all wore expressions of shock.
This wasn't the first time they'd witnessed these two powerhouses clash, but today's atmosphere felt distinctly different.
"Everyone, move back! The captain and Hawk-Eyes are about to fight!"
Benn Beckman immediately sensed the shift in the air.
He waved his hand, signaling the surrounding crew to retreat and evacuate any ordinary pirates who might get caught in the crossfire.
The crowd around them erupted into chaos, scrambling to avoid being dragged into the battle between these two supreme fighters.
Mihawk lifted his gaze to the sky, where the sun blazed fiercely.
He closed his eyes slightly, feeling the warmth of the sunlight and the direction of the wind.
His breathing gradually steadied, his presence merging seamlessly with the surrounding nature.
Then, his eyes snapped open—flames seeming to burn within them—as his aura erupted explosively.
"Haa—"
Mihawk took a deep breath, swiftly adjusting his breathing rhythm.
His grip tightened on Yoru, the blade gleaming coldly under the sunlight.
In that moment, he seemed to become a conduit between the sun and the dragon—blade and heart as one, heart and nature as one.
"Sun Breathing—" Mihawk murmured under his breath.
Then, his movements erupted like a dancing dragon, the arc of his blade resembling a soaring wyrm wreathed in flames as it surged toward Shanks with killing intent.
Shanks' pupils contracted the instant he saw Mihawk's strike.
His Observation Haki had already foreseen the trajectory of this slash, and the sheer power behind it sent a shudder through his heart.
"Damn it!"
Shanks cursed under his breath as a surge of intense unease rising within him.
That razor-sharp sword intent far exceeded anything he had ever witnessed from Mihawk.
He had underestimated this...
This was no ordinary swordsmanship.
The slash Mihawk had unleashed was monstrous!
The blade was strong—but the technique was even stronger!!!
This single strike would tear the entire island apart.
He had to stop it.
"Hold on, Mihawk! Wait—"
Shanks urgently called out, but it was already too late.
Mihawk's eyes were fixed solely on the impending slash.
His movements were lightning-fast—swift and merciless.
"Sun Halo Dragon Head Dance!"
Mihawk uttered a low shout as his Yoru slashed through the air like lightning.
The blade seemed to ignite the surrounding atmosphere, its searing edge as dazzling as the blazing sun, illuminating the entire battlefield.
The sword's energy transformed into a colossal fire dragon, writhing and soaring through the sky, its oppressive presence bearing down on Shanks.
At this moment, Shanks' eyes widened, his heart overwhelmed with shock.
He could sense that this strike was no mere display of brute strength—it was a completely new, transcendent swordsmanship that surpassed all limits.
The "Breathing Style" Mihawk had spoken of truly existed, wielding an extraordinary power capable of opposing the forces of nature itself.
'Breathing Style… What the fuck is that?'
'And who was that mysterious Marine Captain, Mike?'
Shanks' astonishment churned within him, but there was no time to dwell on it now.
He watched as the fire dragon roared toward him, the temperature around him skyrocketing, the air thick with scorching energy.
There was no other choice—he had to meet it with everything he had!
"There's only one way!"
Shanks' expression hardened as his right hand tightened around the hilt of "Gryphon" at his waist.
Crimson Conqueror's Haki flared like flames around the blade, a red glow radiating around him.
"HAH!!!"
With a thunderous roar, the Haki behind him manifested into the phantom of a red griffin, its cry echoing like a fusion of lion and eagle.
Shanks swung Gryphon, the Haki-infused blade slicing through the air as it clashed head-on with the fire dragon.
"Divine Departure!!!"
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Bonus chapter/50 stones!