On the third day out, Kael Grylls was still sulking over his bounty.
He was polishing his makeshift naginata with a strip of deerskin, muttering, "One point five million. One point five million. I am worth less than a Near-Sea Sea King. Do the Marines think Exploding Phoenix Cry was a rented special effect. No taste at all."
"Still hung up on that?" Rayleigh's voice drifted over. He leaned against the mast with a book open in his hands, eyes nowhere near the page.
"I am not," Kael shot back on reflex, then deflated. "I just think my price does not match my handsomeness."
"Kuahahaha. Then what number would," Roger called as he shouldered past with an enormous fish spine like he had just settled breakfast with his bare hands.
Kael straightened and held up three fingers. "Starting price. Thirty million Berries."
Roger and Rayleigh traded a look, then both smiled. Roger's was big and booming. Rayleigh's had a pinch of helpless amusement.
"Big ambitions," Rayleigh said, closing his book and nudging up his glasses. His tone turned crisp. "But a bounty is the World Government's measure of how much trouble you are, not a pure read on strength. Your strike was flashy and more than enough to cow ordinary pirates."
His voice sharpened. "If your opponent is a real power, you might be down before you ever swing. In fact, your proud shockwaves will not even touch some forces."
Kael stopped wiping. He frowned. "Some forces."
"Haki."
The word hung on the deck, heavy as iron.
"Every human has a latent force," Rayleigh went on. "Presence. Pressure. Will. It is innate, though most never sense it or cannot draw it out. Broadly speaking there are two types. No, three."
He held up a finger. "First is Observation Haki. The strength to feel the presences around you, to sense enemies outside your sight, to read the motion to come. In those loving little 'feeding' drills earlier, you were brushing its threshold without knowing."
Kael's heart gave a jump. He thought of Rayleigh's comment about his impossible late-stage dodges.
Rayleigh raised a second finger. "Second is Armament Haki, what Roger showed you the other day. It reinforces your offense and defense like an invisible armor. More importantly it is the most effective counter to Devil Fruit users. Logia or Paramecia, it does not matter. Faced with strong Armament, the advantage you prize so highly can vanish."
Kael's pupils tightened. He had known how important Haki was, but hearing it from the future Dark King was a very different pressure.
Say what you will about Oda being Oda. Once Haki entered the scene, it started trumping everything. Plenty of early characters got punished for showing up before it existed.
"As for the third…" Rayleigh paused. He glanced at the grinning idiot beside him. "That is Conqueror's Haki. The qualification of kings that appears maybe once in a million. You cannot learn it. You awaken it. Which means it is not something to think about for now."
"Kuahahaha. Got it, Kael." Roger tossed the fish bone overboard and loomed up with hands on hips, casting a hill-sized shadow. "Want another zero on that poster. Learn to take a beating first."
Before Kael could react, Roger produced a black cloth from who knew where.
"Here. Put this on."
"What for," Kael asked, eyeing the sweaty strip with deep offense.
"Training your Observation," Roger said like it was obvious. He tied the cloth over Kael's eyes without discussion. "Your eyes and ears lie. So do not use them. Use your heart to see. And hear."
Darkness fell. Kael's sense of safety went with it.
"Hey, hey, Captain, do not fool around."
"Kuahahaha. Rayleigh, ready."
"Whenever you are."
Kael's sixth sense screamed. Left and right, two somethings cut the air toward him at speed.
Ambush.
He did not think. He snapped backward into a bridge.
Shff. Shff.
A sawn plank and a bottle skimmed past his nose.
"Oh," Rayleigh said, a thread of surprise in his voice.
"Not bad," Roger whooped. "Then we turn it up."
Kael had barely straightened when the hiss of incoming objects multiplied into a rainstorm.
"Hey. Hey. So dirty."
He could only lean on that blurry danger sense and stumble around the deck in a desperate dance.
Thud.
His back took a full hit. Like a hammer. Roger's handful of anchor hardware.
Thunk.
Something round and heavy pinged off his forehead. Rayleigh's apple.
"Baka yarou. Are you trying to kill me," Kael howled, clutching his head.
"Kuahahaha. If that kills you, how do you sail with me," Roger laughed, unkind and delighted.
"Focus, Kael," Rayleigh said, cool as a proctor. "Do not chase the sound. Do not follow the breeze on your skin. You are not allowed to use your Fruit. Catch their intent. That killing will cannot hide."
Intent. Presence.
Kael ground his teeth in the dark and forced himself calm.
He let all extra motion go and stood like a post. He poured his awareness into the space around him.
Wind. Waves. Roger's breathing. The crisp whisper of Rayleigh turning a page. None of it.
He was hunting for a directed pressure. A needle point of want.
There.
Right rear.
Kael slid left-front in a single step.
A plank howled into the spot he had just vacated and shattered into pieces.
"Good," Rayleigh said again.
Kael's chest lifted. He did not dare relax. He could feel more points lighting around him. Like stars in a black sky. Sharp. Deadly.
Left. Two.
Front. Three.
Overhead. One more.
He drew in a breath. His body twisted in a way that made no sense, a reed in a fast current. With the smallest motions and the most extreme angles he slipped past everything.
The last orange flicked by his ear and popped on the boards with a dry little crack. The barrage stopped.
Kael was panting and slick with sweat, and grinning.
He tore off the blindfold and took in the wrecked deck, the captain with a barrel and the first mate with a book. His eyes burned with excitement.
"Again."
It felt too good.
Observation training lasted the entire morning. It only ended when Kael was shaking on his feet like a drowned pup.
That afternoon, when he thought he might get to rest, the Armament lesson began.
"Armament Haki is your will, made tangible and spread over your body or weapon," Rayleigh said, still the patient theorist. "It rises from strong mind and strong flesh. You draw it with intent and pack it tight. Picture your body as a blade and Armament as the scabbard. It protects the steel and lets the cut bite deeper."
"What is the point of all that," Roger cracked his knuckles, impatient. "Practice is the only test. Come on, Kael. Punch right here."
He patted his forearm, already coated in a sleek black sheen.
Kael eyed that arm that looked harder than iron. His mouth twitched. "Nope. My hand will snap."
"Kuahahaha. Then I will go first."
His fist came like a truck.
Kael's eyes went wide. He hauled his practice naginata across his chest.
Clang.
A single huge note.
Force slammed down the pole and lit up his bones. He flew ten meters and smashed the cabin door into a confetti of boards.
"Gah." Blood rose and he spat it out. The webbing of both hands tore and bled down the haft.
A white crack crawled along the sturdy pole.
"Feel it," Roger asked, pulling back with a shark's grin. "Your shockwaves can bust up a ship. Against my fist they cannot even shove me."
"Trying to kill me, damn captain," Kael coughed, clawing out of the wreck. He spat red and his eyes shone brighter. "Again."
"Got spine."
For the next hour the deck hosted a one-sided beating.
Roger did not use full power. He did not have to. Every punch was exactly enough to let Kael learn what it felt like when Armament pierced through a guard and struck the body beneath.
"Armament is more often used on your weapon," Rayleigh said at some point. His rapier was in his hand, suddenly wrapped in black.
He did nothing clever. He just pushed a plain thrust across the gap.
It was not even fast, yet Kael's skin prickled. That was an edge that could cut anything.
His pupils snapped tight. No way to dodge. He poured everything he had into the naginata. He pictured armor. He forced the shape of it around the blade.
"Harden. Harden for me."
He roared and met the rapier point with the edge.
Ting.
A clean, perfect bell of metal on metal.
Sparks scattered.
The naginata did not break.
It picked up a few new cracks. It held. It had stopped the thrust.
Kael froze. He looked down at the pole in his hands, then up at Rayleigh's calm face.
"In that instant," Rayleigh said, withdrawing the sword, "you did it. Weak, but real. Your will covered the weapon."
Kael felt the humming blade and the odd sensation in his forearms, like he and the weapon were briefly one piece. His heart pounded his ribs.
"So this is Armament."
"Kuahahaha. Beautifully done, Kael." Roger's hand crashed into his back and nearly made him spit blood again.
Kael staggered, then bared his teeth in a smile that looked worse than a cry.
His whole body was one long ache. His bones felt loose. But the satisfaction and thrill rising from the bottom of his chest were the strongest he had ever felt.