The sharp clang of clashing blades had just faded when raucous laughter erupted from the distance. Blackbeard Marshall D. Teach emerged at the battlefield's edge with his pirate crew in tow.
The group of vicious-looking men swaggered forward, their greedy eyes sweeping across the chaotic battlefield, lingering particularly long on Whitebeard's towering figure.
Mihawk's peripheral glance caught their arrival, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly. While these uninvited guests had disrupted the battle's rhythm, his grip on Black Sword Night never slackened, his hawk-like gaze remaining firmly locked on Bahr.
His opponent's swordplay grew increasingly fierce, the fusion of spatial ability and swordsmanship becoming more seamless. The last diagonal slash had even left a fine cut on Mihawk's sleeve—a sensation of being relentlessly pressed that he hadn't experienced in years.
"Your openings are disappearing," Mihawk remarked evenly, betraying no emotion even as his wrist abruptly twisted mid-sentence. Black Sword Night carved a crescent arc through the air, its blade wind shrieking as it split the atmosphere, forcing Bahr to activate his spatial ability and teleport backward.
Bahr steadied himself three zhang away, shaking out his numb right arm while glaring at Mihawk. Damn this capricious bastard, he thought. The world's going to hell, and he's still obsessed with our duel.
Yet he knew better than to let his guard down against the "World's Greatest Swordsman." The slightest lapse would spell disaster. Gritting his teeth, he refocused.
Their blades crossed again, steel flashing through the smoke-filled air as sparks rained onto cracked earth, pulverized instantly by residual tremors. Blackbeard Pirates' jeers, Marines' shouts, pirates' roars—all became mere background noise to their duel.
After countless exchanges, just as Bahr used his spatial ability to evade Mihawk's devastating overhead slash and prepared to counter with a space rift, a hoarse yet thunderous roar split the sky:
"ONE PIECE IS REAL!"
The voice, frail as a candle in the wind yet carrying soul-piercing conviction, struck the battlefield like lightning. Even the swirling smoke seemed to freeze momentarily in its wake.
Mihawk's movement halted abruptly.
Turning, he saw Whitebeard still standing tall—an unshakable mountain of a man. Blood seeped from his chest wound, staining his snow-white cape crimson. Those eyes that had burned with life now held only a cloudy emptiness.
Yet the power in those words surpassed even the Tremor-Tremor Fruit's might, instantly seizing every mind on the battlefield.
Blackbeard Pirates' laughter died mid-chortle. Marines exchanged uneasy glances. Even distant combatants froze mid-swing.
Mihawk's fingers gradually loosened around Black Sword Night, its tip scraping a shallow line in the dirt as it lowered. His amber eyes reflected complex emotions as he regarded Whitebeard—acknowledgment of an era's symbol, contemplation of a declaration that could overturn the seas.
Bahr too sheathed his blade, leaning on Autumn Water as he panted. Sweat dripped from his jawline, evaporating instantly on scorched earth. Staring at Whitebeard's still-standing corpse, he knew these words would ignite ambitions across the seas more fiercely than any war.
Mihawk turned back, his sharp aura dissipating as he smoothly returned Black Sword Night to its scabbard. "We'll stop here today."
"What? Done already?" Bahr arched an eyebrow, irritation thick in his voice. "I wasn't finished!"
This guy's whims were infuriating—starting and ending duels at his leisure, completely disregarding others' rhythms.
Slinging Black Sword Night across his back, Mihawk faced the battlefield's periphery, his black cape snapping in the wind. "I've had my fill for today."
Pausing, he added over his shoulder, "Next time, bring me more surprises."
With that, he strode away, his dark silhouette soon merging with the distant light and shadow.
Bahr watched him go, tightening his grip on Autumn Water. The blade's cool touch steadied his racing thoughts. After a final glare at the still-chaotic battlefield, he snorted.
His gaze inevitably returned to Whitebeard's standing corpse.
He knew exactly what came next—Blackbeard's scheme to seize the Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
That fruit reputedly held the greatest destructive power. Just recalling its earth-shaking might stirred a restless itch within him.
Blackbeard had methods to steal others' abilities. His own Space Fruit could too. Such power shouldn't be handed to that schemer freely.
Bahr's fingers absently traced Autumn Water's hilt, hesitation flickering in his eyes.
But he quickly suppressed the thought.
His two encounters with Blackbeard had been... unpleasant. The man's strength was undeniable. Trying to snatch the Tremor-Tremor Fruit now would provoke his wrath—and Blackbeard's vindictive nature meant he might go berserk.
Having just battled Mihawk, Bahr's stamina was depleted. Taking on Blackbeard at full strength would be recklessly dangerous.
Moreover, fruit abilities depended on their users. In the original timeline, even with the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, Blackbeard never matched Whitebeard's cataclysmic might. Bahr already possessed the Space Fruit—who would even use the Tremor-Tremor Fruit if he took it?
The whole idea seemed... questionable.
And then... Bahr's lips curled into a knowing smirk.
As the "Blasphemer," he was already the World Government's prime target. If Blackbeard obtained the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, becoming a dual-ability user, he'd draw just as much attention.
The World Government's focus would split between them. He could finally breathe.
An enemy's enemy was half an ally. Let Blackbeard stir the pot—better than facing the World Government alone.
Bahr shook his head, dismissing the chaotic thoughts.
However powerful the Tremor-Tremor Fruit, confronting Blackbeard now wasn't worth it. Let the bastard have his prize. The bigger the mess he made, the better.
After all, he had no ambitions of conquering the seas. Why bother with this nonsense?
The world was already chaotic—might as well let it burn brighter. He'd enjoy his freedom. As long as no one interfered with him, let the fools play their games.