Deep within the heart of the prehistoric jungle, where the canopy blotted out the skies and colossal ferns spread like wings of green, the land itself began to tremble. At first, it was subtle—barely more than the shiver of leaves or the shifting of moss along ancient stones. But then it grew. A low, guttural rumble, not unlike the growl of some titanic beast stirring from slumber, rolled through the forest.
And then, they saw it.
A mountain—no, a giant's tomb of fire—looming above the treetops. The volcano stood like a crown at the island's heart, its peak shrouded in clouds that glowed with an unnatural red. Molten veins pulsed faintly along its ridges, as though the mountain itself bore a beating heart of fire.
The rumble became a roar. Birds and monstrous pterodactyls scattered from the canopy in swarms, their cries lost in the deafening sound as the earth split. A shockwave rippled outward, toppling trees as though they were nothing more than grass. From the crater, a geyser of smoke and fire tore into the heavens, a pillar so vast it swallowed the sky.
Ash began to fall like snow, fine and gray, carried on violent winds. The sweet, prehistoric air was choked with the acrid stench of sulfur. The jungle, once vibrant with life, now seemed to cower beneath the fury of the mountain.
Then came the fire.
With a sound like the roar of a thousand cannons, molten rock exploded from the peak. Rivers of lava spilled down the mountainside, devouring everything in their path—trees, cliffs, even the massive ferns that had stood for centuries were reduced to burning husks in moments. The glow illuminated the horizon, casting the entire forest in an infernal red.
The forest had barely settled from the volcano's eruption when the earth shuddered again—this time not from the mountain's fury but from something older, something primal. A sound that split the skies: a war cry so thunderous it drowned even the roar of the volcano.
"KABABABABABA—!"
"DORRY! TODAY IS THE DAY YOUR HEAD ROLLS!"
Two titans stepped into view, each towering over the shattered canopy. Their sheer size warped the horizon, like living mountains striding across the island.
On the left stood Dorry the Blue Ogre, his tangled mane of red hair flying wildly, eyes ablaze with savage joy. In one hand he gripped his colossal broadsword, its blade chipped and cracked from a thousand battles, in the other a towering Viking shield scarred with gouges. His chest bore the tapestry of a warrior's life—hundreds of scars, some faded into pale white lines, others still raw and glistening with blood.
Opposite him, Brogy the Red Ogre raised his mighty battle axe, a monstrous weapon forged for a hand the size of a ship's mast, and a shield equally battered. His laughter boomed like rolling thunder as he bared his teeth. His beard, now streaked with gray, danced with each breath. His body too was a battlefield, marked with wounds old and new, but none of them slowed the ferocity burning in his eyes.
The two charged.
The ground quaked as their colossal feet thundered forward, trees snapping like twigs beneath their stride. The very air trembled, pressure building like a storm about to break. And then—
CLAAAANG!
Sword met axe in a collision that split the earth. The shockwave ripped through the forest, sending smaller beasts fleeing in terror. The force alone was enough to topple trees for miles, to carve scars across the mossy ground. Even the volcano's rumbling seemed muted compared to the ferocity of their clash.
"GYAAAGAGAGA! BROGY, YOUR AXE IS WEAK TODAY!" Dorry bellowed, forcing his sword down with a roar, his veins bulging as haki flared along the blade, black and crimson sparks crackling.
"KABABABABA! SAY THAT WHEN YOUR SWORD ISN'T CHIPPED LIKE GLASS, DORRY!" Brogy countered, haki flooding his axe until it gleamed obsidian black, his strength pushing back in equal measure.
Their weapons locked, neither giving an inch. The ground beneath them fractured, great fissures spreading outward like spiderwebs. Birds that had been circling above fell dead midair, their bodies crushed by the sheer pressure radiating from the giants' duel.
And then, with a roar, they broke apart.
Dorry swung his sword in a wide arc, a streak of haki-infused force tearing through the air. The slash cleaved a swath of forest clean in two, trees and stone alike sliced as though by an invisible guillotine.
Brogy only laughed. "TOO SLOW!" He swung his axe in response, his own haki emission erupting outward. The flying slash, twice the size of Dorry's, smashed into the first midair—an explosion of pure force that sent shockwaves in every direction. The canopy ignited from the friction, and an entire hillside crumbled under the collision.
Still laughing, the giants charged again.
"YOUR SEAKING WAS SMALLER, BROGY! A TINY FISH, NOT FIT FOR EVEN A CHILD'S BELLY!"
"LIES, DORRY! THE BONES TELL THE TRUTH—MY CATCH WAS MIGHTIER, BIGGER THAN YOURS, EVEN NOW!"
The ridiculous argument—the same one they had carried for almost a hundred years—still burned in their hearts with the same fury as the day it began. Their duel was not just combat—it was ritual, tradition, eternity. Each clash of sword and axe sang of their pride, their stubbornness, their joy.
Brogy slammed his shield into the air forward, bracing, as Dorry's sword came down like a lightning bolt. The impact shattered the earth, sending up a geyser of dirt and stone. Dorry didn't relent, raining blow after blow, each swing heavy enough to topple mountains.
Brogy parried and countered, his axe whistling through the air with lethal speed, each strike carrying the weight of an avalanche. Their weapons blurred, moving with impossible swiftness for beings of such size, each strike backed with enough power to destroy kingdoms.
"DIEEE, BLUE OGRE!" Brogy bellowed, his axe carving a crescent of blackened haki through the air.
"NOT TODAY, RED OGRE!" Dorry swung upward, his own slash colliding with Brogy's in a detonation that rocked the island. Lava spilled from the volcano's wound in the distance, triggered by their ferocious clash.
The forest around them was a battlefield. Ancient trees older than empires fell like matchsticks. Rivers shifted course as the ground tore apart under their feet. Herds of colossal beasts scattered in panic, their trumpeting drowned by the laughter and roars of the two eternal rivals.
Yet through it all, there was no malice in their eyes—only the thrill of battle, the love of combat, the joy of testing themselves against the only warrior who could match them blow for blow.
They closed again.
Dorry slammed his shield forward with a brutal bash, haki exploding outward in a shockwave. Brogy staggered but spun with the force, his axe whipping around in a deadly arc that caught Dorry's side. Blood sprayed, painting the air crimson.
"GYAGAGAGA! A GOOD HIT, BROGY!" Dorry roared, unfazed, his laughter booming as he retaliated with a brutal overhead swing. The blow shattered Brogy's shield in half, splinters raining down like hail.
Brogy only laughed harder. "AHAHAHA! THAT'S BETTER, DORRY! BUT YOU'LL NEED MORE THAN THAT TO FELL ME!"
Their haki flared brighter now, coating their weapons until they gleamed like midnight suns. The air warped with the sheer density of their willpower, the jungle itself bowing before their clash. Each emitted slash now, was not just destruction—it was artistry, arcs of black lightning carving the skies.
"WHOSE CATCH WAS GREATER, BROGY?!" Dorry howled, pressing forward with a storm of blows.
"YOUR LIES WON'T FOOL ME, DORRY! THE SEAKING I FELLED WAS THE SIZE OF A MOUNTAIN!" Brogy bellowed back, swinging with equal ferocity, his axe tearing craters into the earth.
Their duel was endless. Neither yielded, neither faltered. Blow for blow, wound for wound, they matched one another, their pride unbroken even after a century. The volcano roared in the distance, but even its fury seemed pale compared to the battle of the giants.
At last, their weapons locked again—sword against axe, haki sparking like stars colliding. Their foreheads pressed together, their eyes blazing.
"UNTIL ONE OF US FALLS!" Dorry roared.
"UNTIL THE TRUTH IS DECIDED!" Brogy bellowed.
And with an earth-shaking crash, they broke apart again, their laughter echoing across Little Garden, carrying on the wind like the voices of gods.
The forest lay in ruins. Whole swaths of trees were flattened, rivers diverted, cliffs collapsed. Yet still the two giants stood, bodies bleeding, weapons trembling in their massive hands, laughter echoing like thunder across the battered island. For all their years of fighting, for all their countless clashes, neither had ever gained ground. They were equals.
Dorry spat blood into the dirt and raised his sword high, its chipped blade blazing with obsidian-black haki. His breath came ragged, but his eyes burned brighter than ever. "BROGY! IT SEEMS OUR BLOWS ARE AS USELESS AS OUR ARGUMENTS!"
Brogy answered with a booming laugh, hefting his battle axe as haki coated its edge until it looked like a sliver of midnight forged into steel. "GABABABABA! THEN LET'S END THIS ROUND THE ONLY WAY WORTHY OF WARRIORS OF ELBAF!"
Both giants planted their shields into the ground, casting them aside. Now it was only steel and will. They began to charge, haki flaring so violently that the air itself seemed to scream. Black lightning crackled around their weapons, arcs tearing trenches into the earth as the very atmosphere bent under the weight of their power.
"ELBAF'S PRIDE—!" Dorry roared, muscles bulging, each step a quake that split the mossy ground beneath him.
"GIANT'S HONOR—!" Brogy thundered back, his voice shaking the canopy, scattering flocks of prehistoric birds in panicked flight. And together, their voices rose, one final war cry that split the heavens:
"IKOKU SOVEREIGNTY!!!"
They swung. Two beams of haki-infused force, wide enough to swallow castles, exploded from their weapons. They carved through the battlefield like pillars of divine judgment, ripping the ground open, parting rivers, splitting mountains in their path. When the two beams met at the center of the island, the world seemed to stop.
For a single, blinding instant, all of Little Garden was bathed in white light. The collision erupted skyward, a towering column of energy clawing into the heavens. The air warped and twisted, clouds scattering as if the sky itself was torn apart. The force carved into the upper atmosphere, the clash of wills climbing higher and higher until it resembled a colossal mushroom cloud blooming above the island, a monument to their unyielding rivalry.
The ground heaved like a living thing. Entire sections of the forest were uprooted and hurled aside. Prehistoric beasts—dinosaurs, mammoths, even colossal reptiles that feared nothing—fled in terror, their roars drowned by the deafening explosion. The sea around the island convulsed, waves rising like tsunamis, slamming against the shores with unrelenting fury.
The clash lingered. Neither beam overwhelmed the other. It was not just power colliding—it was will, pride, and centuries of warrior spirit locked in eternal stalemate. The sky itself seemed to groan under their defiance.
At last, with one final cataclysmic detonation, the two beams imploded against one another. The resulting shockwave ripped outward in a perfect ring, flattening everything for miles. Ash and smoke spiraled upward, the volcanic haze mingling with the mushroom cloud to create a vision that looked like the wrath of the gods themselves.
When the dust cleared, silence reigned. The battlefield was unrecognizable. The jungle was gone, reduced to a blasted wasteland of craters and charred earth. The volcano in the distance bled rivers of lava into newly carved valleys, reshaped by the giants' clash. The skies above were split open, streaked with the remnants of their combined attack.
And yet—there they stood. Dorry, sword still in hand, chest heaving, sweat and blood streaking down his scarred body. Brogy, axe lowered but not loosened, panting heavily, his beard singed, his massive chest rising and falling like a furnace.
Both giants were battered, bruised, and exhausted beyond belief. But neither had fallen.
Slowly, they raised their heads. Their eyes met across the torn battlefield, burning with the same fire that had carried them through a hundred years.
"GYAGAGAGAGA!" Dorry's laughter cracked the silence. "STILL STANDING, ARE YOU, BROGY?!"
Brogy's booming voice answered, shaking the air anew. "KABABABABA! AS LONG AS YOU STAND, DORRY, SO WILL I!"
They both planted their weapons into the ruined ground, leaning heavily on them, yet neither bent their knees. The clash had torn apart the island, split the skies, and scarred the land forever—but their duel had not ended. Not today. Not ever.
The battlefield was still heavy with the aftermath of the giants' clash—smoke rising, ash drifting like snow, the mushroom cloud slowly unraveling into the heavens—when a calm, cutting voice pierced through the haze.
"You bastards are still at it, are you…? Didn't I tell you to put aside your petty pride all those years ago?"
The words echoed across the ruined plain, soft yet sharper than the edge of any blade. From the treeline that had miraculously survived their apocalypse of a duel, a figure stepped forward.
Dr. Kureha.
One hand rested on her hip, her wild cloak of plum-colored cloth snapping against the breeze like the wings of a bird of prey. Behind her trailed three smaller figures—Robin, Law, and Lucci—but the attention of the giants was locked wholly on her. Not the three warriors, not the ash-scarred land, not even the volcano rumbling faintly in the background.
Her voice… the way she carried herself… it struck something deep in their ancient memories.
"Ehhh…!" Both Dorry and Brogy turned, their enormous eyes widening, sweat beading across their brows despite their size.
Kureha took another step forward. The dust and ash swirling in the air seemed to recoil from her presence, settling to the ground as though afraid to mar her path. Her sharp gaze never wavered.
"Don't tell me… it hasn't even been a century and you've already forgotten your good friend?"
For a moment, silence gripped the island. Brogy's eyes widened first. That stance, that wild aura balanced on a knife's edge between danger and charm, those flamboyant clothes that screamed defiance of age itself—it all clicked into place as the much younger form of the woman flashed before his eyes. He remembered her laughter, her sharp tongue, and the reckless courage that had once earned the respect of even Elbaf's fiercest warriors.
"By the gods…" Brogy's voice cracked with astonishment. "It can't be… Kureha?!"
Dorry, slower to catch on, frowned and tilted his head, scratching at his tangled beard. "Wait, wait… Brogy… you know this old human?"
The moment the word "old" left his mouth, the entire island seemed to hush. The forest quieted. The prehistoric beasts slunk back into their lairs. Even the volcano, which had been moments from erupting, let out a low grumble before stilling, as though it too feared to witness what came next.
Brogy gulped audibly, his massive Adam's apple bobbing. "Dorry… you idiot… do you realize what you've just—"
It was too late. Kureha's stride faltered for just a heartbeat, her lips twitching. Then, with a wicked smile, she let loose. Her aura exploded.
A burst of haki radiated from her tiny frame, so overwhelming that it bent the very air. The ground cracked beneath her feet. Robin flinched, clutching her notebook against her chest. Law's eyes narrowed, sweat trailing down his temple despite his calm façade. Even Lucci raised an eyebrow, his expression breaking into the faintest smirk at this unexpected revelation of power.
The sheer density of it—it wasn't just Conqueror's Haki, it was the haki of someone who had lived more than a century and never once bowed her head to anyone.
"Heh… heh… heh…" Kureha's laugh was low, dangerous, and all too familiar. Her eyes locked onto Dorry's bewildered face. "It seems you have forgotten me, Dorry. In that case…"
She rolled her sleeves up, veins tightening over wiry muscle, and turned toward the nearest tree. It wasn't just any tree. It was a colossus, a prehistoric titan of bark and roots, towering dozens of meters tall, thick enough that at least half a dozen giants would need to link arms to encircle its girth.
Kureha planted a hand against the trunk. Her fingers dug in. With a casual twist of her wrist, the earth ripped as roots tore free, soil crumbling away in avalanches. The giants' jaws dropped.
She lifted the tree like a staff, its shadow blotting out the ash-stained light. Her armament haki spread across its bark, coating it in a black, shimmering sheen until the colossal trunk looked like it had been forged from obsidian. The very air hissed at the force of it.
Then, with terrifying grace, she swung. The tree whistled as it cut through the air, a sound so sharp it could split eardrums. Dorry barely had time to raise his shield. The impact was apocalyptic.
CRAAAAAACK!
The shield shattered like pottery. The tree connected with Dorry's cheek, and the giant—warrior of Elbaf, one of the strongest beings alive—was sent sprawling into the dirt with a booming crash, his face swelling instantly.
Brogy turned away, whistling innocently as though admiring the clouds, his massive frame trembling from suppressed laughter. "Oh dear… I didn't see a thing. Must've been the wind. Yep, just the wind."
Kureha planted the tree back into the earth with a thud that made the island tremble. She dusted her hands, her expression one of pure satisfaction.
"Consider that… a reminder."
Dorry groaned from the crater he had carved into the ground, one eye swollen shut, his lips twitching between pain and disbelief. He staggered up, wobbling slightly, and pointed a trembling finger at her. "T-That swing… it is you! Kureha!"
Her smile widened, razor-sharp and dangerous. "Took you long enough, you big oaf."
The volcanic rumbling resumed in the distance, but now it sounded less like fury and more like laughter, echoing the absurdity of the scene: two giants who had torn an island apart, reduced to chastised boys before the might of a woman well past her hundredth year.
"Both you oafs… fighting continuously in such a condition?"
Kureha's voice cracked like a whip, echoing through the clearing that served as Brogy's makeshift camp. The place bore the weight of a hundred years—colossal tree trunks chopped down and shaped into crude furniture, massive fire pits circled with stone, the towering skulls of ancient Sea Kings mounted like trophies. Even the campfire smoldered with the bones of beasts larger than any ship.
Dorry and Brogy—two living legends of Elbaf—sat hunched in front of her like guilty children. These were warriors whose duels had shaken mountains and carved valleys into Little Garden itself, yet now they avoided her gaze, staring instead at the dirt beneath their massive boots.
Their bodies were a testament to their century-long rivalry. Hundreds of scars layered across them, some faded into pale ridges, others raw and fresh, still clotting with blood. A normal man would have fallen long ago, but these two titans had endured—fueled by pride and a promise neither had been willing to break.
Kureha folded her arms, her scowl deepening. "Tch. Idiots. You've both been dancing on the line between life and death for decades. And for what? To prove whose catch was bigger?!"
The giants flinched, their booming laughter and war cries replaced with sheepish silence. Brogy scratched his beard nervously, while Dorry rubbed the welt still swelling on his face from Kureha's earlier "reminder."
She spun on her heel, cloak snapping behind her like the banner of a queen. "Lucci, Robin—herbs. This forest is crawling with them. Don't come back until your arms are full. And also get the supplies from the boat on your way back."
Robin nodded gracefully, her keen eyes already scanning the flora around the camp for rare species. Lucci followed without a word, Hattori squawking from his shoulder, "Herbs, herbs, herbs!" as they disappeared into the undergrowth.
Kureha's sharp gaze then fell upon her student. "Law. With me."
Law obeyed, jaw tight, setting his satchel upon a moss-covered log large enough to serve as a workbench. He laid out scalpels, gauze, and vials with precise care, but the task ahead weighed heavily on him. Treating a patient was one thing. Treating two giants, each the size of a fortress, was another. Still, he could feel his mentor's eyes boring into him, her expectations pressing harder than any storm.
The atmosphere of the camp shifted. The crackle of the fire, the distant roars of prehistoric beasts, even the volcano rumbling on the horizon—all seemed to fade beneath the tension of Kureha's presence.
Brogy leaned toward Dorry, his deep voice dropping into a whisper. "She's still as scary as ever…"
Dorry grunted, rubbing his bruised cheek. "Aye… scarier than any Sea King I've fought…"
But when Kureha's sharp gaze flicked back to them, both titans snapped upright like chastised recruits, sitting stiffly as their shadows swallowed the campfire.