That half step had already told Atmos everything.
The wager had not fully ended yet, because he had said one step, not half a step. But in his heart, Atmos understood very clearly what that tiny movement meant.
In the contest he had proposed himself, with both of them standing still and comparing raw strength head-on, his feet had moved first.
For a warrior like him, that was humiliation.
For a commander under Whitebeard, it was also proof.
The force coming through Zaraki's blade was not ordinary brute strength.
At first, Atmos almost thought it was advanced flowing Armament, the kind of Haki that could transmit force past the surface of a weapon, but the feeling was rougher, heavier, and stranger than the techniques he had seen in the New World.
It was not clean Internal Destruction.
It was Armament Haki crushed together with something else, a soul-deep pressure that did not belong to any ordinary Haki system.
"Flowing Armament...?"
Atmos's pupils shrank sharply.
The words sounded as if they had been forced out from between his teeth.
This young Marine monster not only had a body as strong as a beast, but could also mix Haki with that strange pressure to create this kind of force?
That was no genius, this guy is a monster.
Zaraki did not give him any more time to think.
"First strike."
He announced it calmly, and the muscles in the arm holding his blade tensed in an instant.
That invisible torrent of force erupted like an unseen wave, crashing hard into Atmos's twin blades.
Clang!
A piercing metallic impact rang out.
Atmos's tower-like body could no longer remain steady. His feet carved two deep trenches across the deck as he was pushed backward by an irresistible force.
The air behind him compressed with a dull boom.
Black arcs of Haki and dark-gold Reiatsu burst wildly from the point where their blades met, scattering in every direction and blasting charred pits into the surrounding deck.
Under the collision of those two forces, the entire warship groaned as if it could no longer bear the strain.
It tilted sharply to one side, throwing up an enormous wave.
"Hold the rudder!"
Yamakaji's face turned pale as he gripped the ship's rail and roared at the crew.
What level of battle was this?
Just the shockwave from their clash had nearly capsized a large warship!
Atmos was forced back nearly eight meters before his feet finally stopped.
He lowered his head and looked at his trembling hands.
The webbing between his thumb and forefinger had already split open, and blood was dripping down the hilts of his blades.
The agreement had been decided.
He should have lowered his swords and admitted defeat.
But pride would not let him stop there.
If he had to guide this Marine to Pops, then before that happened, he wanted to test exactly how much weight that blade could still carry.
Before Atmos could even steady his breath, an even stronger pressure descended over him.
At some point, Zaraki had already followed up. He leapt high into the air, his body stretching out midair like a hawk diving for prey.
In those dark eyes, open excitement burned without restraint.
He could finally loosen up a little.
"Hah!"
With a short breath, the blood inside his body seemed to boil in that instant.
Dark-gold Reiatsu burst from within him in sharp arcs that looked almost like lightning.
It wrapped around his limbs and bones before finally gathering along the edge of his blade.
Crackle!
The sharp scent of scorched air spread around them.
"Second strike!"
His voice seemed to overlap with thunder from the heavens.
"One-Sword Style: Thunderclap!"
Murasame let out an excited hum. Its blade was covered in brilliant dark-gold arcs, the pressure around it sparking fiercely enough that the surrounding air trembled as if real thunder were about to descend.
From Atmos's perspective below, the entire world lost its color.
Only that falling blade remained, wrapped in a violent storm of Reiatsu and Haki as it came down toward him.
"Raaaaagh!"
At the edge of life and death, Atmos unleashed a roar.
He pushed his life force and Haki to the absolute limit. His skin instantly turned black like steel, his muscles swelled, and his veins bulged.
His whole body looked like a black demon that had crawled out of hell.
"Water Buffalo Horn: Great Wheel!"
He abandoned all thought of retreat and crossed both enormous blades above his head, meeting that terrifying strike head-on.
In that instant, dark-gold pressure and black buffalo horns collided with a crash.
For one suspended heartbeat, the collision swallowed every sound around it.
The wind stopped.
Everyone's breathing froze in that moment.
Then the pressure finally broke open.
Boom!
A thunderclap seemed to tear across sky and sea. The terrifying shockwave turned into a white ring and spread madly in every direction.
The mast of the Marine warship snapped on the spot.
Beneath Atmos's feet, the deck of the pirate ship, sturdy as it was, shattered like a biscuit crushed in a giant's hand, breaking apart and exploding into a storm of wooden splinters.
He had no time to react.
That dark-gold strike descended with a speed beyond the limits of sight.
Boom!
The pirate ship beneath Atmos's feet was ripped open from the middle.
Reiatsu arcs spread wildly through the split like living lightning, charring and breaking apart the wooden hull as seawater began pouring in from both sides.
"The ship... the ship's splitting apart!"
The terrified screams of the pirates finally broke that brief silence.
Zaraki's figure landed lightly on the rail of the warship without making a sound.
The arcs around Murasame slowly faded, returning the blade to its deep, dark sheen.
He lowered his gaze and saw the pirate ship tilting weakly to both sides like a snapped toy, floating helplessly on the sea.
And directly below where the ship had been cleaved open, Water Buffalo Atmos fell like a kite with its string cut, smoke rising from his body as he plunged straight into the sea, throwing up a huge splash.
"..."
Whether it was the Marine soldiers or the pirates lucky enough to jump into the sea and survive, everyone stared blankly at the scene before them, their minds completely empty.
"Haa..."
Zaraki exhaled a long breath of white air carrying a faint burnt smell.
The excited battle intent on his face slowly faded, replaced by a lingering sense of satisfaction.
Now that was interesting.
He turned his head toward Yamakaji, who had gone completely stiff, and casually sheathed Murasame with a crisp click.
"Don't just stand there," he said in an easy tone. "He fell into the sea, fish him out. He's a decent opponent. It'd be a shame if he drowned."
Yamakaji jolted violently, finally snapping out of his shock.
He stared at Zaraki's young face, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, but not a single word came out.
He could only wave instinctively at his subordinates and roar, "Quick! Save... save him!"
Several elite Marines quickly jumped into the sea and, after much struggling, dragged the unconscious Atmos back aboard.
When the massive man was thrown onto the deck, everyone gathered around him and unconsciously sucked in a breath.
Across Atmos's chest, three savage wounds ran from his left shoulder all the way to the right side of his abdomen.
The wounds were not especially deep, but the edges were scorched black, as if burned by red-hot iron.
Tiny dark-gold arcs could still occasionally be seen flickering through the flesh, making faint crackling sounds.
This was not a simple sword wound.
It looked like heavenly punishment.
"Cough... cough..."
Perhaps stimulated by the cold deck, Atmos coughed violently several times, spat out a few mouthfuls of seawater, and slowly regained consciousness.
He struggled to sit up, only to realize that his entire body ached and he could not muster even a shred of strength.
A hand extended in front of him.
Atmos raised his head and met Zaraki's calm black eyes.
He fell silent for a moment, then still accepted Zaraki's help and barely managed to sit upright.
"Thanks."
His voice was hoarse and dry.
"That was a satisfying fight."
Zaraki let go and sat cross-legged in front of him.
"You're strong. Fighting on a ship limited what you could do, If there's a chance next time, let's have a proper fight on land."
Those words made the surrounding Marines and pirates look at one another in disbelief.
They had just fought like they were trying to tear the sky and sea apart, and now they were calmly sitting down and talking about making plans for next time?
Atmos looked deeply at Zaraki.
The contempt from before was gone from his eyes, replaced by the solemn respect one gave to an opponent of the same level, along with a trace of confusion.
This man could not be judged by common sense at all.
"You won, Zaraki," Atmos said in a low voice. "Kill me or cut me down as you like. But if you want to see Pops... I have to warn you, that won't be some friendly meeting. In Pops's eyes, you are still a Marine."
"I know."
Zaraki nodded, and a smile suddenly appeared on his face, one that made everyone around him feel a chill.
"That's exactly why I want to meet him."
He paused, leaned forward slightly, and spoke in a low voice filled with near-fanatical anticipation.
"After all, he's the man who can shake the world... I really want to know what it feels like... to be cut down by him for real!"
Deathly silence covered the deck.
Yamakaji's mouth had fallen open into an O shape, wide enough to fit an egg.
The members of the Whitebeard Pirates stared at Zaraki as if they were looking at a complete lunatic.
He wanted Pops to cut him down?
There were people in this world with that kind of request?
Zaraki ignored everyone's shock. He stood up and stretched lazily, his joints cracking in a series of sharp pops.
The battle with Atmos had awakened every cell in his body, as if a sleeping beast had finally opened one eye.
But it still was not enough.
Nowhere near enough.
Atmos wiped the seawater from his face and reached into the inside of his ruined coat with some difficulty.
He pulled out a small piece of paper that trembled faintly in the wind.
A Vivre Card.
"The ship's finished, but the route isn't lost," Atmos said hoarsely, his gaze still fixed on Zaraki. "This points toward Pops. If you insist on going, then follow it."
Zaraki raised his head, looking past the wrecked battlefield toward the deeper, stormy blue sea in the distance.
For some reason, the battlelust in his blood, which had only just settled down, began to stir faintly again.
As if somewhere in the depths of that sea, an even larger and more ferocious presence was appearing and disappearing at the edge of his instincts.