"Kid… do you even know what you're saying?"
Rocks turned slightly, his towering shadow swallowing Tenma whole. His eyes, deep and abyssal, looked down on the boy as though gazing at an insect. The sheer pressure of his presence made the air itself feel solid, suffocating.
Tenma drew in a deep breath. In his young eyes, there was not a trace of fear — only resolve.
"I know," he said firmly.
Rocks let out a low chuckle. "Oh?"
Before the sound had even faded, a deafening roar split the air — like the cry of something born from the abyss itself. The massive greatsword at Rocks' waist, Calamity, wreathed in pure destructive will, came crashing down toward Tenma without warning or mercy.
Before the blade even struck, the shockwave alone sent gravel trembling beneath Tenma's feet.
Clang!
A clear, ringing sound — sharp as a dragon's cry — tore through the maelstrom of destruction.
Tenma had drawn his sword, Wind Chaser, faster than the eye could see. The slender blade gleamed faintly in the dim light. Facing a strike that could split an island in two, his eyes blazed with battle spirit. There was no hesitation, no retreat.
He roared, muscles tensing as dark Armament Haki wrapped around the blade like black crystal, humming with power.
BOOM!!!
The clash that followed wasn't the sound of mere steel meeting steel — it was the sound of thunder itself exploding within the cave. A ring of shockwaves burst from the point of impact, scattering dust and flame. The hardened ground cracked open, and shards of stone whipped through the air like bullets.
Tenma gritted his teeth, pouring every ounce of strength into his arms, struggling against the monstrous force that pressed down on him.
Rocks' strike — simple as it seemed — was like an erupting volcano. The raw, overwhelming power didn't just strike the surface; it vibrated, sending invisible waves pulsing through Tenma's blade, his Haki, and his body.
The destructive oscillations broke through his defense like a hammer shattering glass, slamming into his chest and gut.
"Ugh!"
Blood filled his throat as his face went pale. The impact tore through him like an explosion from within. His arms went numb, and even his hardened Haki began to falter under the relentless waves of pressure.
It felt as though he had been hit by an invisible battering ram. His boots screeched against the black rock, sparks flying as he was driven backward.
Two long trails carved into the ground followed him until his back crashed against a stone pillar, stopping his retreat with a thunderous crack.
Tenma gasped for air. Blood trickled down his hand, dripping from his knuckles onto the stone floor below. His fingers trembled on the hilt, but his grip did not loosen.
He lifted his gaze.
Rocks stood in the same place, unmoved, his titanic sword resting casually against the ground. That devastating strike — enough to crush mountains — was nothing to him.
Through the swirling dust, his abyssal eyes met the boy's — who still stood, bloodied but unbroken, his blade still pointed forward.
For the first time, a flicker of genuine interest sparked within Rocks' gaze.
"So that's the Calamity — one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Swords, huh?" Tenma muttered under his breath.
Rocks' lips curled slightly. "Not bad, kid. You took that head-on and lived. I'm in a decent mood today, so I'll let you walk away. Leave."
Tenma's ragged breathing stopped.
Then —
Snort.
Instead of retreating, he straightened his back. The trembling in his arms ceased. His eyes hardened, the burning fire within them condensing into two piercing, icy stars that locked onto Rocks.
When everyone thought it was over — even Rocks himself — Tenma moved.
He said nothing.
He simply lowered his body, shifting his center of gravity forward, his right hand gripping the hilt in an ancient stance, every motion smooth, fluid — natural as breathing. Yet, within that simplicity, power began to coil, sharp and focused.
An invisible storm of sword intent gathered around him.
Tenma's voice cut through the silence, calm but resonant:
"Let me show you… my swordsmanship."
"Iaido — Sky Dragon Flash!"
The words dropped.
There was no wind-up, no warning, no sound of the blade cutting air — only light.
A single, blinding streak of light too pure and too fast for the eye to follow.
It didn't come from the sword — it was the sword. A flash of cold brilliance that materialized out of nowhere, slicing straight toward Rocks' throat.
Too fast.
Rocks' pupils contracted. The godlike composure on his face shattered — replaced by shock. The speed was beyond comprehension, faster than even his instincts could process.
But instinct, honed by countless life-and-death battles, acted before thought. His massive body twisted violently aside.
Ssshhk!
The light brushed past his neck, so close it sheared off strands of his hair. A chill raced down his spine — the first true danger he'd felt in years.
But Rocks had dodged — and the cold light continued forward.
Straight toward the person behind him.
Stussy.
The blonde beauty had been watching with lazy amusement, her lips curled in mocking disdain at the boy who dared stand before Rocks.
But when the deadly light bloomed in her vision — expanding in an instant until it filled her world — that mocking smile froze.
For the first time, fear appeared in her eyes.
She could feel it — the killing intent, sharp enough to split her from crown to heel.
Her heart seized, her blood turned to ice.
She couldn't even scream.
The light of death approached — swift, absolute, merciless.
The color drained from her face, leaving only the pale reflection of despair.