Chapter 35: Ancient Armament
Haki.
As a force as renowned as Devil Fruits on these seas, it remained shrouded in mystery. Willpower, killing intent, fighting spirit, life-force… turning these intangibles into a weapon birthed three distinct colors: the innate Conqueror's Haki, the perceptive Observation Haki, and the armor-like Armament Haki.
With Haki, even a non-fruit user could carve out a legend.
This much was common knowledge.
As a veteran of the seas, Crocodile knew more.
...
After the death of the Pirate King Gol D. Roger, the Great Pirate Era began, unleashing a flood of powerhouses. The New World had only recently stabilized from its chaos, coalescing around four dominant forces known as the Four Emperors. Among their ranks were masters of unique Haki applications—Observation that glimpsed the future, Armament that flowed through weapons, even Conqueror's Haki that could inflict physical damage.
Yet no matter how special, these were extensions of Haki's core principles. They followed a logic.
What Crocodile had just witnessed defied that logic.
...
The black cloths shrouding Alvin Vergil had dissipated. But Vergil reached into the empty air, plucked a dark bandage from nothingness, and deftly wrapped it around his own hand.
"Alright, that's the idea!"
Satisfied, Vergil stood and immediately clapped a hand on Crocodile's shoulder.
Crocodile instinctively shifted into his sand form, but Vergil's grip held firm. The black fabric wrapped around Vergil's hand clearly possessed the property of touching a Logia user's true body—a fundamental trait of Armament Haki.
"Tch…" Crocodile's expression tightened. He despised this feeling of unpredictability, but Vergil was a perpetual source of it. He was becoming… accustomed.
Studying the black bandage closely, Crocodile still found it hard to accept. "You claim this is Armament Haki?"
"Yes. And no."
"What?"
"It's Ancient Armament Haki."
Vergil patted Crocodile's shoulder, released him, and flexed his fingers thoughtfully. "I was wondering back on Sabaody. I'd already fought Garp. Why did I only grasp a tiny shred of Armament?"
Crocodile: "…"
The statement was absurd, but given Vergil's monstrous learning curve, it held a twisted logic. Yes, you fought him. How did you, a primitive, only learn a little bit?
"Ha…"
"Tsk!"
...
Vergil didn't consider himself a genius. He was just a product of immense, enforced solitude. During those amorphous centuries, with nothing else to occupy him, he had theorized endlessly in the prison of his own mind.
Fruit development. Techniques. Haki applications…
His mind was a vault of untested theory. All he needed was the right spark, the right "practice," to bring them to life.
But when he tried to replicate Garp's Armament Haki, he'd hit a wall. The feeling was close, yet only a sliver manifested in his roar. It puzzled him.
Now, he had an answer.
The Haki used by Garp, by anyone in this era, might simply be incompatible with him. His nature was rooted in a far more ancient time.
...
"Stones inscribed as Poneglyphs were forged with special techniques, leaving traces of Armament Haki within them…" Vergil rapidly pieced it together, then his eyes widened. "No, it's more than that!"
He turned back to Crocodile. According to Crocodile's account, when Vergil first awoke on Punk Hazard, a palpable aura of Haki had surrounded him—Conqueror's Haki. Yet when Crocodile asked about it later, Vergil had been genuinely clueless.
He'd theorized about Conqueror's Haki, but never had the chance to practice it. The feeling was alien.
If it wasn't his Haki… then that aura belonged to the ancient stone slab itself!
"It was Ancient Conqueror's Haki…" Vergil murmured, rubbing his chin. "My original slab had Conqueror's Haki imbued in it. The Alabasta Poneglyph has Ancient Armament Haki forged into it. What about Observation? There are only three 'colors,' but far more than three Poneglyphs…"
He reached a hand toward the buried chamber, but the connection was gone. The Ancient Armament within that Poneglyph was all it held. He couldn't learn more from it.
"Do other Poneglyphs have other types of Ancient Haki cast into them? More contact… more understanding…"
He paused.
"And those memories… what were they?"
...
The more he pondered, the more fascinated he became. One of his irises began to rotate slowly, the black and white parts shifting. He clawed at the air with two fingers, and a strip of space seemed to tear, manifesting as another black, bandage-like stream of Ancient Armament. He wrapped it around his forearm, flexed his wrist, and threw a casual punch into the empty air.
THOOM!
An unusual sound cracked the desert stillness. The surrounding air trembled violently, disturbed by an inexplicable force.
"Wow!"
Vergil's eyes shone with pure, exhilarated light as he looked at Crocodile. "This sea really is amazing, isn't it?"
"…"
Crocodile was speechless. Yet, upon reflection, the statement held a perverse truth.
"'Amazing'? Heh heh heh heh…"
Crocodile took a long drag from his cigar, a dark chuckle escaping him. His pursuit was ultimate military power, the pinnacle of which was the legendary Ancient Weapons. Clues to those weapons were inseparable from the Poneglyphs. Vergil's sudden drive to seek out more Poneglyphs now aligned perfectly with his own goals.
He just wondered: if this ancient creature continued to "evolve" by absorbing more of this primordial Haki… to what heights would he climb?
It was a troubling thought. But for now, this "problem" wouldn't trouble Crocodile. It would serve as a magnificent distraction for the World Government.
"Heh heh… it is interesting…"
"…"
...
Some time later.
King Cobra and his guards finished securing the site, ensuring the Poneglyph remained hidden. They then summoned Vergil and Crocodile back to the capital.
The Poneglyph's existence was confirmed. Now, the immediate problem demanded attention: the "war" with the Drum Kingdom. Though 'war' was a strong word; it was more accurately a series of blatant, unexplained provocations.
...
Alubarna, Palace Conference Room.
The adults convened. Little Princess Vivi moved among them, assisting with documents. While this was Alabasta's internal affair, the likely involvement of underworld forces meant Cobra needed Crocodile's expertise. Crocodile didn't mind. His plot involved the Poneglyph, and eventually, Alabasta itself. Cobra's trust was a vital asset.
Vergil had uncovered something, but the information was fragmented, not yet a usable clue. Crocodile needed another angle. Resolve the Drum Kingdom issue first, then find a Poneglyph reader.
As he strategized, Igaram presented compiled reports of the recent skirmishes.
Crocodile skimmed them, and a cold smirk touched his lips. "Heh heh heh… I knew it. A backwater kingdom like that wouldn't dare provoke you without encouragement."
He spread the reports on the table, tapping a specific section. "These weapons. Their specifications are rare in Paradise. They're a favorite among the warmongers of the New World."
He leaned back, exhaling cigar smoke. "The most likely truth is this: for some reason—be it the Poneglyph, or something else—you've attracted the attention of a certain arms dealer."
"…"
The room fell into a heavy, contemplative silence as the implication sank in.
Vergil, however, broke it with a gleeful clap. "Wow! As expected of someone who works with arms dealers all the time—"
SLAM!
Crocodile's fist slammed down on the table, a prominent vein throbbing on his forehead.
(End of Chapter)
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