The shock brought by Seraphim S-Bear—the creature with an indestructible golden body and the same Paw-Paw Fruit ability—had yet to fade.
On the opposite side of the battlefield, another storm was already brewing.
The clash between Erza, the Fairy Queen, and Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman, suddenly drew every gaze. Out of the swirling haze of dust and fire, another figure emerged—one that moved in perfect rhythm with S-Bear.
When the smoke cleared, a second Seraph appeared—S-Eagle—a boy who looked almost identical to a young Dracule Mihawk himself.
All across the battlefield, both pirates and Marines erupted in disbelief.
"Look! Mihawk's son—he's here too!"
"Nani?! The world's strongest swordsman has a son?!"
"I've never heard anything like that before!"
"Fake or not, the resemblance is terrifying!"
Another voice shouted over the chaos:
"Strip away the darker skin, the wings, and those flames, and he's almost a mirror image of Mihawk!"
Marines, pirates, and onlookers from every corner of the warzone began murmuring to one another, a mix of confusion and awe rippling through the air.
"So it's not just the Tyrant Bear—they've even cloned Mihawk, the Hawkeye!"
"If these aren't their children, then they must be the products of technology!"
"Could they be weapons born from Vegapunk's experiments—creations cloned from the Shichibukai's very genes?"
"Then what's the source of that strange brown-skinned, winged design? What kind of race did Vegapunk blend into them?"
The world's chatter grew louder, and Mihawk himself—face dark with irritation—stared at the small figure before him. The resemblance was undeniable.
Erza looked between the two of them, her crimson armor gleaming beneath the sun.
"Hawkeye Mihawk, are you sure this child isn't your son?" she asked half-teasingly.
"No," Mihawk replied flatly, his golden eyes narrowing.
Swish!
A flash of light sliced through the air.
S-Eagle made his move—his blade swung in a strike nearly identical to Mihawk's own Black Sword, Yoru. The enormous wave of sword energy tore through the ground, roaring toward Erza.
Erza met it head-on, blocking the slash with a clang that shook the battlefield.
"So that's it—you're worried about your son's safety. It's only natural for a father," she said earnestly.
"I said he's not my son!" Mihawk snapped, a vein throbbing at his temple.
He knew Erza wasn't mocking him, but somehow that made it worse. He was barely in his late thirties—how had the world already assigned him a child?
Mihawk could already see tomorrow's headlines.
"World's Greatest Swordsman's Secret Love Child Revealed!"
"Mihawk's Long-Lost Son Joins War Beside His Father!"
The thought alone made his expression darken further.
He lifted his gaze toward the hovering World Government airship, his tone sharp enough to cut steel.
"World Government… what have you done with my blood?"
His killing intent rippled through the battlefield.
And as Mihawk expected—his fury was already being mirrored across the world.
At Sabaody's live broadcast plaza, the crowd watching the war on the giant screens erupted in pandemonium.
"Breaking news! The world's greatest swordsman, Mihawk, has an illegitimate child!"
"Scandal! Mihawk's son and Tyrant Bear's son share the same mother!"
"Exclusive! Mihawk and Bartholomew—fathers to twins of the same mysterious race!"
Reporters from sensationalist tabloids wasted no time spinning out one wild headline after another.
In this age where entertainment ruled the masses, the more absurd the story, the faster it spread—and the more people believed it.
Of course, not all news agencies were shameless.
A few tried to analyze the battle seriously and began piecing together something closer to the truth.
"Now that both the 'sons' of Tyrant Bear and Mihawk have appeared, could there be others?"
"Are more child-like versions of the Shichibukai hidden aboard the World Government's fleet?"
"If so… does that mean we'll soon see the daughter of the Pirate Empress, Boa Hancock?"
The crowd of spectators—"melon-eaters," as they were called—buzzed with speculation, their imaginations running wild.
And then—
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
Five new figures descended from the skies above, landing hard upon the battlefield.
The world held its breath once more.
Another chapter of chaos was about to begin.