Clang!
The screech of metal-on-metal rang in Kael's ears, so sharp it made his eardrums ache.
A gleaming longsword had been caught and held just inches from his face.
Through the haze of blood loss and exhaustion, Kael forced his eyes open. The first thing he saw was the back of a young man wearing a straw hat.
That straw hat's shape, its color, that familiar side profile it all struck Kael like lightning.
"Ace… Ace?" His voice was hoarse, dry, disbelieving.
How could he be here? The timeline doesn't match!
The straw-hatted youth didn't answer. With a flick of his wrist, a surge of raw power coursed through his weapon.
The Black Shark Pirates swordsman, who had been pressing forward, suddenly felt an irresistible force slam into him. His hands split at the webbing, his blade flew free and clattered to the ground, and his body staggered backward in shock.
"You alright?" the straw-hatted man finally turned, flashing a wide grin lined with white teeth.
Under the sunlight, his youthful face was sharp, brimming with confidence and energy. Yet his eyes were hawk-like, piercing, as though they could strip a man bare.
That smile… those eyes…
Kael's pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Forgive me, sir. I didn't recognize you at first.
Not Ace. Ace's father.
Gol D. Roger. The Pirate King in his youth.
An invisible aura rippled outward from Roger's body. It wasn't a deliberate release of pressure, yet every pirate nearby stiffened as if an ancient beast had fixed its gaze upon them. Instinct drove them back, fear twisting their faces.
"Wh-who are you?" The scar-faced captain of the Black Shark Pirates hefted his ship's anchor, trying to roar bravely. But in his gut he knew this straw-hatted youth was a monster he should never cross.
Roger ignored him. Instead, he glanced at Kael bloodied, disheveled, yet still standing and at the chaos littering the harbor. His grin widened. "Impressive. You took down this many pirates alone? Not bad, kid. Not bad at all."
Before Kael could respond, a new sound cut through the smoke rapid, disciplined footsteps in unison.
"Marines! The Marines are here!"
"Branch G Marines! Run!"
The surviving pirates shouted in panic, their shaky line collapsing further.
From every direction poured squads of Marines in crisp uniforms, black rifles leveled at the battlefield.
Several officers with lieutenant commander insignia led them, faces grim, weapons at the ready. Dogg Town's G-Branch elite had arrived.
"All pirates, drop your weapons and surrender! Resist, and you will be executed on the spot!" one officer barked, his command booming across the docks.
The Black Shark captain's face darkened. He knew now there was no easy escape.
"Brothers, fight to the death! Kill these two brats first, then break through!" He swung his massive anchor and charged. His men roared after him in a frenzy.
"Come then. Kuahahaha!" Roger's laugh thundered, rich and fearless. Neither the crashing anchor nor the tightening Marine formation fazed him.
His blade was no famed treasure, just an ordinary cutlass. Yet in his hands it erupted with a power that defied belief.
Swish.
Steel flashed, so fast the eye couldn't follow.
The heavy anchor cleaved in two like rotting wood, its cut polished smooth.
Then Roger's figure blurred, weaving like a phantom through the melee. Every slash carried overwhelming dominance.
The first pirates and Marines to meet him were launched back in sprays of blood before they even saw his motion.
His swordsmanship was vast, unrestrained. Broad strokes that seemed simple, yet each carried a rhythm and force that could cleave mountains and part seas.
Kael leaned against a crumbling wall, clutching his ribs. The throbbing wound and his hollow exhaustion made his body tremble, but his eyes never left Roger.
So this… this is the future Pirate King?
Strong beyond imagining.
Every gesture radiated command, every strike declared dominance. Compared to him, Kael's earlier skirmish with pirates was child's play.
Each swing, each step, seared into Kael's memory.
"This is… Haki?" he muttered.
Though he couldn't define it, he could feel it the force behind Roger's strikes was more than flesh and muscle.
But his own body had reached its limits. Hunger, blood loss, and endless strain drowned him in dizziness. The scene swirled. Roger's laughter, the Marines' shouts, the pirates' screams all grew faint and distant.
"Damn it… my body… I can't…" Kael clenched his teeth, but his eyelids sank heavier with each heartbeat.
At that moment, as the Marines tightened their formation around Roger, a golden blur split the battlefield like lightning.
Clang, clang, clang!
Blades rang. Marines cried out and fell.
A swift figure carved through them, cutlass spinning into a radiant golden screen. Each flash was precise, graceful, and lethal.
His style was different from Roger's brute force. Where Roger embodied overwhelming domination, this man was speed and finesse, every strike a perfect execution.
"Rayleigh!" Roger's booming laugh rang again, fiercer than before. His swings grew wilder, sharper.
The newcomer was none other than Silvers Rayleigh, still young but already dazzling. His golden hair spilled to his shoulders, round spectacles catching the light, a calm bearing hiding eyes that gleamed with predator's focus.
Rayleigh's entrance shattered the balance. He and Roger moved as one, blades crossing paths like twin storms, tearing Marine lines apart.
"Really now, Roger. You just can't help but draw attention," Rayleigh quipped lightly, parrying a lieutenant commander's strike without effort.
"Kuahaha! It's on its way!" Roger shouted back, casually sweeping aside another knot of pirates.
Kael's consciousness teetered on the edge. His vision swam, but through the haze he caught the glint of Rayleigh's blade.
Roger… Rayleigh… this was fifty, sixty years before the main story even began.
The remaining Black Shark pirates, shattered in spirit, fled screaming or fell under the duo's merciless blades.
The Marines, though disciplined, could not withstand legends in the making. Their losses mounted by the second.
Back to back, Roger and Rayleigh stood with Kael shielded between them, blades raised, facing the tide of foes.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the smoke-choked docks. The air was thick with blood and ash.
It was a slaughter, and at the same time, the quiet unfurling of a legend.
The age of the Pirate King had begun its overture in this obscure port of Dogg Town, with the laughter of Roger, the blade of Rayleigh, and the fainting soul of one accidental traveler.
Kael's eyes slid shut at last. His final thread of awareness clung to Roger's booming laugh and the golden light gleaming off Rayleigh's sword.