The Polar Tang approached Kuraigana Island beneath the surface, following the fixed direction of the Eternal Pose through a maze of submerged cliffs and narrow channels.
Law refused to surface until the sonar confirmed that no Marine vessels, World Government ships, or pirate crews were waiting nearby.
The island's reputation alone discouraged most visitors, but after Dressrosa, caution had become more than habit.
Somewhere above them, Garp was still tearing apart the surrounding seas in search of Zaraki, Cipher Pol was extending its net, and Morgans was turning his disappearance into the biggest story in the world.
The Heart Pirates had no desire to become part of that story.
When the submarine finally rose inside a secluded cove, Kuraigana greeted them with silence.
The island looked less like an inhabited country than the corpse of one.
Ruined stone walls disappeared beneath black vines.
Watchtowers leaned over the forest, their upper floors split open by artillery or time, while collapsed roads led inland through the remains of the Shikkearu Kingdom.
Far above those ruins, Mihawk's castle stood against the mountainside, dark and solitary beneath the clouds.
Bepo slowly climbed through the hatch and stared at the landscape.
"This place is depressing."
"Appropriate," Law replied.
Zaraki stepped onto the shore with Nozarashi resting in its sealed form at his waist.
The dark ground beneath his boots was covered in old leaves, fragments of rusted armor, and pieces of weapons that had once belonged to soldiers whose names had long been forgotten.
Law followed him onto the beach but stopped several steps from the tree line.
"Our agreement covered transportation and medical treatment," he said. "It did not include helping you challenge Dracule Mihawk."
Zaraki glanced back.
"You afraid?"
"Yep."
The blunt answer made Zaraki pause.
Law folded his arms and continued before the Marine could laugh.
"I am not interested in dying because two men decide the island is too small to contain their pride. If Mihawk cuts you apart, I'm not sewing you back together while he watches."
"You worried he'll cut you too?"
"I'm worried you'll give him a reason to."
Zaraki gave a short, amused breath.
"Then stay out of the way."
"That was already the plan."
A metallic scraping sound came from somewhere among the ruins.
Then another answered it.
Shapes began to emerge between the broken walls.
At first glance, they looked like unusually large apes. Then Zaraki noticed the weapons in their hands.
One carried a chipped saber in both fists.
Another dragged a spear across the stones. Several wore pieces of battered armor or scraps of old uniforms taken from the battlefield that had once consumed the kingdom.
Humandrills.
Their eyes moved between Zaraki, Law, and the Polar Tang with an intelligence no ordinary animal possessed.
Law's hand settled near Kikoku's hilt.
"They imitate whatever fighting styles they witness," he said quietly. "This island was at war for years. Those things learned from soldiers, mercenaries, and anyone else unlucky enough to survive long enough to be watched."
The largest Humandrill stepped forward.
A broad black blade rested across its shoulder, crudely shaped to resemble Mihawk's Yoru.
The proportions were wrong, the balance worse, but the stance was unmistakable.
The ape lowered its center of gravity.
Even its posture was an imitation.
Zaraki's golden eyes brightened.
The Humandrill attacked.
For a creature of its size, it moved with startling speed.
The false black blade came down toward Zaraki's shoulder with enough force to split the stone beneath his feet.
Zaraki's hand closed around Nozarashi's hilt.
"Drink, Nozarashi."
The sealed katana expanded into its Shikai form before the Humandrill's weapon could land.
Clang!
The impact shook the ruined street.
Dust burst from the cracks between the stones, and the pressure snapped Law's coat behind him, but Zaraki's boots did not move.
The Humandrill's eyes widened.
Zaraki twisted his wrist.
The crude imitation of Yoru shattered through the middle.
Before the ape could recover, Zaraki turned the flat of Nozarashi and struck it across the chest.
The Humandrill flew backward through a broken wall and vanished inside a cloud of dust and shattered masonry.
The others attacked at once.
A spear thrust from the left. Two swords swept low toward his legs. Another Humandrill leaped from the remains of a rooftop with an axe raised over its head, while three more circled behind him and searched for an opening.
Zaraki stepped into them rather than retreating.
Nozarashi moved in heavy, controlled arcs.
One copied weapon broke against its edge.
Another was knocked from its wielder's hands.
The flat of the cleaver struck ribs, shoulders, and jaws with enough force to put each Humandrill down without cutting through them. Zaraki could feel Nozarashi's displeasure every time he denied it blood.
'Wasteful.'
"They're not worth eating."
'Then find me something that is.'
A spear point flashed toward Zaraki's throat.
He shifted half a step, caught the shaft beneath Nozarashi's ring, and ripped the weapon from the Humandrill's hands.
The return swing struck the ape in the stomach and folded it over the cleaver's flat before sending it tumbling across the road.
Law watched from the edge of the ruins.
The difference from Dressrosa was obvious.
Zaraki was still brutal, still direct, but the pressure that once exploded from Nozarashi without distinction now remained concentrated around the blade.
He was not merely holding the sword back. He was choosing what it was allowed to consume.
Less than a minute later, a dozen Humandrills lay scattered through the ruined street.
The largest one crawled out from beneath the broken wall, blood running from the corner of its mouth.
It stared at Nozarashi's released form, then looked toward the mountain where Mihawk's castle stood.
Its aggression faded.
Slowly, the ape lowered its head.
One by one, the others followed.
Law studied them.
"They recognize strength."
"They recognize they'll die if they try again."
"That too."
Zaraki rested Nozarashi against his shoulder and turned toward the castle.
A presence had been watching since the first clash.
Unlike Kaido's overwhelming violence or Doflamingo's unstable pride, it had not changed once.
It felt like the edge of a blade already resting against his throat, waiting patiently to see whether he was foolish enough to move.
Zaraki grinned.
"Found him."
High above the ruined kingdom, Dracule Mihawk stood on the balcony of his castle.
A glass of red wine rested untouched on the stone railing beside him.
His hawk-like eyes followed the dark-gold pressure rising from the streets below.
The reports from Dressrosa had been incomplete, exaggerated in places and distorted by Morgans's need for spectacle, but one detail had been accurate.
Zaraki had survived Kaido.
More importantly, the strange sword in his hands was no longer merely screaming.
It was listening.
Mihawk reached for Yoru.
By the time Zaraki and Law crossed the ruined kingdom and entered the castle courtyard, the World's Strongest Swordsman was already waiting for them.