Watching the disciple who made him most proud, Zephyr's heart was filled with complex emotions. Aside from the sentimentality over the passage of time, there was a subtle complexity.
Nao's killing intent had grown far too heavy. If it were back in the old days—before Zephyr retired from active duty, when he still held fast to his belief in "never killing"—he would have earnestly lectured this disciple over and over.
But over the past two years, after witnessing the terrifying reputation Nao had built, and the way that very ruthlessness had greatly deterred pirates while preserving justice and order, Zephyr realized that his own beliefs had quietly shifted.
His old ideals were being overturned bit by bit. Without even realizing it, his stance toward pirates had begun to align closely with Nao's.
—Perhaps that place called Impel Down didn't really need to exist after all.
"Half a month stuck in Mary Geoise—you must've been bored to death, huh?"
Zephyr put down his teacup and smiled slyly at Nao. "Want to find a bit of fun to spice things up?"
"Find… fun?"
Nao blinked, confused at first. But when he caught the look in Zephyr's eyes, his face changed instantly.
"No way, Zephyr-sensei. Today's the new recruits' induction day—you're not planning to…"
"Quit your yapping."
Zephyr huffed. "The last time I sparred with anyone was years ago. My hands have been itching ever since! You, brat, are always too busy to pin down—now that I've finally caught you, there's no way I'm letting this chance slip."
"…Fine."
Since Zephyr had already made up his mind, Nao could only give a helpless smile and nod in agreement.
...
Half an hour later.
On a small, uninhabited island not far from Marineford, Nao and Zephyr descended from the sky, landing on opposite ends of a forest clearing.
At their level of power, even a simple sparring match could unleash devastating destruction—there was no way they could fight inside the Elite Camp.
Even if they didn't hurt anyone, knocking down a few buildings by accident would be enough to make Sengoku curse them both half to death.
Thankfully, several of these small, barren islets surrounded Marineford—too small for development, but perfect as training grounds. Here, they could fight without restraint.
Momonga and Onigumo had followed as well.
But even they didn't dare get too close. They stopped at a slope along the island's coast—several kilometers away from the clearing.
"Can't believe Zephyr-sensei actually challenged the Vice Admiral himself."
Onigumo squinted at the two distant figures, unable to hide his amazement. "Who do you think will win?"
"Well…"
Momonga gave a wry smile and shook his head. "You're putting me in a tough spot—that's not an easy call."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If it were a real fight to the death, I'd bet on Vice Admiral Nao. His stamina is inhuman—he could grind Zephyr-sensei down through sheer stamina alone."
"But this is just a spar," Onigumo said, giving him a sideways glance. "So you're still betting a little more on Zephyr-sensei, huh?"
"Pretty much."
Momonga hesitated for a moment, then nodded slightly.
True, over the past few years serving under Nao, he'd come to fully respect the man's overwhelming strength.
But the opponent was Zephyr—his own sensei, the youngest Admiral in the history of the Marine, the legendary "Black Arm" who once dominated the seas.
If stamina didn't come into play… Nao was still probably a half-step behind, wasn't he?
"I wouldn't be so sure," Onigumo snorted, about to argue further—then suddenly his eyes lit up.
"Forget it, look! They're starting!"
...
In the center of the forest clearing—
"Looks like we're all warmed up, huh?"
Zephyr grinned broadly at Nao across the clearing, slamming his fists together with a heavy thud.
"Come at me with everything you've got. I wasn't around to witness any of your famous battles in person—time I saw with my own eyes just how far you've come!"
"I'll try not to disappoint you, Sensei."
Nao smiled faintly, but his expression soon turned solemn as his gaze sharpened.
"I'm coming, sensei—be careful."
Truth be told, he was genuinely looking forward to this spar.
Over the past two years, though he'd carried out countless missions, none had given him a real challenge.
Whether it was rising "Supernovas" making names for themselves on the Grand Line, or seasoned veterans of the New World—none of them had lasted more than five minutes against him. It had all become… rather dull.
And to make matters worse, Aokiji had recently been reassigned to head G-5 Branch in the New World—reuniting with Molly, which was good for him, but for Nao… it meant losing his favorite punching bag and sparring partner. He could only curse Kuzan for "abandoning brotherhood for love."
Now that he thought about it—
it had been a long time since he'd had a proper fight.
This bout with Zephyr would be the perfect chance to test just how much his strength had grown—and to see whether there was still any real gap between himself and a full-fledged Admiral-class fighter.
Whoosh!
A sharp gleam flashed through his eyes—and Nao vanished from sight.
In the very next instant, he appeared above Zephyr's head like a phantom, fist cocked back and wrapped in whirling force, crashing down toward Zephyr's face.
It wasn't a lightning-based teleport from his Rumble-Rumble Fruit—it was pure technique.
He'd pushed the Marine's "Soru" to its absolute limit; even Momonga and Onigumo, watching intently from afar, couldn't follow his movement at all.
"Perfect timing!" Zephyr threw his head back and laughed, meeting the descending blow without hesitation—his own fist rocketing upward to meet it.
BOOM!!!
The deafening impact shook the entire island.
Ripples of raw shockwave burst outward from the point of collision, flattening everything in a wide radius!
A ring of towering trees snapped cleanly in half under the force, toppling backward in unison as flocks of startled birds exploded into the air.
Whoosh!
For a few tense seconds, the two fists locked in a deadlock before the shock finally sent both men skidding backward. Each carved a trench over ten meters long through the dirt before halting their retreat.
Evenly matched!
Momonga and Onigumo exchanged wide-eyed looks of disbelief.
Vice Admiral Nao—just with physical strength alone—had gone blow-for-blow with Zephyr-sensei and come out completely even!
"Not bad at all," Zephyr said with a grin, flexing his knuckles as the dust settled.
Nao skidded to a stop, the corners of his mouth curving upward into a faint grin.
He still remembered, back in his Elite Camp days, when Zephyr had once gotten drunk and casually thrown a single punch—
that sent him flying like a meteor clear out of the training grounds.
It had taken him nearly half an hour to run back, panting all the way.
And now…
"Impressive strength, kid."
Zephyr just laughed heartily, utterly unfazed.
"But that was only the warm-up! The real show's about to begin—get ready, kid!"
Boom!
As soon as the words left his mouth, Zephyr clenched his fists tight.
Both of his arms were suddenly coated in Armament Haki—
their entire length darkening to a metallic black sheen that gleamed ominously under the sunlight, radiating raw power and menace.
"As expected of you, Zephyr-sensei…"
Nao's gaze hardened slightly as he stared at those arms.
There was no question—
when it came to mastery of Haki, Zephyr stood at the absolute pinnacle of the world.
Relying on nothing but physical technique, he was one of the only two who could claim a place among the world's mightiest—
the other being Garp himself.
The intensity of Zephyr's Haki—the density of its aura, the precision of his hardening—
it surpassed anyone Nao had ever faced.
Even Kaido, for all his monstrous resilience, would fall short by comparison.
"Well then…"
Zephyr's arms were his weapons—
but Nao, the Marine's undisputed Greatest Swordsman, had his own blades to draw.
Only—
at first glance, his hands were empty. He wasn't reaching for a sword at his waist, but rather toward his back, near his shoulder blades.
In truth—
after joining the Marine's upper ranks, his formal attire and the heavy white Justice cloak made it cumbersome and inelegant to carry two swords at his hip.
So, over the years, he had developed a new habit—
to seal his twin blades within his body, nourishing them constantly with his own lightning.
When needed, he could draw them directly from his chest or back—
twin swords blazing with crackling blue energy.
Stylish and deadly.
Vmmm—!
Twin blades—Yone's dual swords—leapt into his hands, arcs of azure lightning dancing across their edges.
The next instant, Nao's figure flickered and vanished—
then reappeared before Zephyr, crossing both blades in a flashing X-slash!
The air itself trembled in their wake.
But Zephyr didn't flinch or retreat—
he charged straight in, his steel-like arms slamming forward to meet the attack head-on!
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
The heavy, metallic collisions rang out one after another, almost without pause!
Sparks exploded in every direction as the two figures clashed in a blur of motion—
their battle already exceeding a hundred exchanges in mere moments.
The ground around them was shattered and split, web-like cracks Onigumoing outward for hundreds of meters.
"Refreshing! Absolutely refreshing! I haven't felt this alive in ages!"
Zephyr roared with laughter, his fighting spirit blazing.
"But, Nao! Those little scratch-like sword moves of yours—stop holding back! Show me something real! Let this old man see the full extent of your power!"
"As you wish."
Nao's smile deepened slightly. "Then you'd best be careful with this next strike, Sensei."
He drew in a long breath—then suddenly raised both swords high, their twin points aimed toward the sky.
RUMBLE—
In an instant, the once-clear sky blackened.
Thunder roared across the heavens, and flashes of lightning tore through the clouds, turning the entire sky into a raging sea of light and shadow.
"Effortless… he can manipulate the weather in seconds."
On the distant coastal hill, Momonga's eyes widened as he looked up at the storming sky.
"As expected of Vice Admiral Nao…"
Beside him, Onigumo was just about to speak—
when a faint gust of cold wind brushed across his cheek.
It seemed like nothing at first.
Summer had just ended; autumn winds along the coast were hardly unusual.
But that single wisp of cold air—
was only the beginning.
Moments later, countless gales surged around them.
The wind grew sharper, stronger, and soon turned into roaring air currents that converged above, spiraling upward like a colossal vortex.
In that instant—
it was as if the very air was being drained away.
Momonga and Onigumo's faces flushed red; their lungs burned—they could barely breathe.
The entire desolate island—
and even the surrounding kilometers of ocean—
were now consumed by howling tempests.
Visibility vanished; the combination of thunder, lightning, and wind painted a scene like the end of the world.
Nao rose slowly into the air, floating serenely in the storm's heart, his gaze calm and unwavering.
In the past two years, his swordsmanship had already broken through its old limits, stepping into the realm of a true master.
Through relentless training, he had perfectly fused the power of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit with the art of Wind Blade Swordsmanship.
No longer was it a superficial blend—it had become something transcendent.
He had gained insights that touched the level of "true sword essence," forging a new path entirely his own.
In other words—
though his foundations came from the Wind Blade Swordsmanship, Nao had surpassed his predecessors and created his own path of swordsmanship.
He called it—
Two-Sword Style: : Wind and Thunder Swordsmanship!
And the strike he was about to unleash—
was one of his most powerful techniques.
"Wind and Thunder—Doomsday Burial!"
With a fierce cry, Nao crossed his swords and brought them down in a single devastating slash!
The heavens responded.
Lightning and storm winds converged, drawn together by his will.
All of it descended upon Zephyr—
turning him into the eye of a colossal maelstrom!
BOOM!
The storm fell like divine wrath.
Wind and thunder collided in a cataclysmic symphony, making the earlier rumblings seem laughably insignificant.
The ground shattered.
Light vanished beneath chaos.
At the storm's edges, streaks of blinding white lightning slithered outward like massive serpents,
and even the coastline several kilometers away was swallowed by towering waves.
On the far hill, Onigumo and Momonga were instantly consumed by regret.
The skies were far too dangerous—neither dared use Moon Walk to rise.
They could only cling to the ground, gripping the dirt with all their strength, just to avoid being torn away by the wind.
In such a storm, simply staying on the ground without being blown into the sky was a feat in itself.
Why did we follow them here?
they both thought miserably, on the verge of tears.