Steel crashed on steel as the dragon-man's kanabo and the golden dragon-man's greatsword slammed together yet again.
Kaido and White Ghost bared their teeth at each other, eyes fierce.
"Hrrr—!"
White Ghost suddenly surged with strength, knocking Kaido's kanabo aside, then chased after him with a blur of wild slashes.
Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Worororororo… Marine, there's something off about you," Kaido narrowed his eyes as he traded blows.
White Ghost's next thrust went straight for Kaido's kidney—Kaido twisted at the last moment, the blade carving past his side.
"Oh? You noticed? Then why don't you guess why I'm doing it?" White Ghost grinned, never letting up.
"Wororororo… What's wrong? Run out of fancy tricks? Stamina running dry?"
White Ghost just chuckled and flicked his sword, sending out a simple blade of sword-qi—no wind, no flame, no lightning, no frost.
Just steel.
"Ladies and gentlemen watching around the world," Morgans all but squealed into his mic, feathers puffed in excitement, "what you're seeing now are the two men who will decide the outcome of this entire war!
"If the Marine falls, the three Emperors take the win!
If Emperor Kaido falls, the Marines effectively win this battle!"
All over the world, people stared open-mouthed at the image on their transponder-snail screens.
On the battlefield there were no longer any island-breaking tsunamis or sky-splitting flashes.
Just:
One man with a kanabo.
One man with a greatsword.
And the two of them hacked at each other relentlessly, blow for blow.
"That brat's really grown," Sengoku muttered, watching the two dragon-men clash on the feed.
"Something's wrong with both of them, though," Kizaru said, stroking his chin. "For two Mythical Zoans, the destructive power should be insane. Instead they're fighting like this… like they're squeezing out every last drop."
One word flashed through Sengoku's mind.
"Awakening."
"Devil Fruit awakening," Zephyr said aloud.
"For Zoan-types, it's an extremely dangerous step. If you cross that line, your strength skyrockets. If you fail, you become nothing but a beast—enslaved by the fruit's instinct."
Tsuru nodded.
"That's the price for awakening an animal-type. And for him to reach that point in such a short time…"
—
Holy Land Mariejois, Room of Authority.
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn frowned at the screen.
"The two of them are testing endurance and brute force," he said. "We may be watching the final stage."
Saint Topman Warcury nodded.
"Awakening an animal-type Devil Fruit is always a gamble. Very few in this world have succeeded… especially among Mythical Zoans."
Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro rested his hand on his sword hilt.
"And a Mythical Zoan awakening… that's an entirely different league."
Saint Marcus Mars stared at White Ghost's image.
"If that 'White Ghost' succeeds, his strength will exceed admiral level. If he fails, that solves the problem for us."
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter tapped the table, voice flat.
"The Marine organization must be contained. They're already showing signs of slipping out of our control."
"Didn't Sengoku request additional funding?" Mars asked with a thin smile. "Reject him."
Nusjuro shook his head slightly.
"Even if we do, so what? You all know what's happening at that auction house on Sabaody."
"Then shut it down," Saturn said coldly.
"We can't," Warcury sighed. "The current generation of our 'kin' all rely on that place to choose strong pirate slaves. Shut it down and they'll riot."
"So this doesn't work, that doesn't work—what does work then?" Ju Peter snapped.
Warcury's eyes narrowed.
"Cutting the Marines' budget will send a message, even if it doesn't bite deep. At the same time, we arrange for 'pirates' to destroy the Sabaody auction house and blame it on revenge."
"A pirate-run auction, destroyed by pirates. Perfectly reasonable," Nusjuro said.
"After the war, Sengoku will certainly try to promote Das White Ghost to vice admiral, or at least admiral candidate," Saturn said. "We will reject that. At the same time, we quietly approach the hawk-faction in Headquarters. They never liked that boy. And most importantly—Sakazuki is obedient."
His tone turned colder.
"We sour the relationship between White Ghost and Headquarters. Then, we slip a CP9 agent into his orbit. He has a weakness for pretty women, doesn't he? We'll give him one."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
"Seconded."
—
Sabaody Archipelago.
Rayleigh and Shakky sat together in the bar, watching the broadcast.
Glug, glug.
Rayleigh downed his drink, then sighed.
"Can't deny it… I really am getting old. The kids these days are terrifying."
"Mhm." Shakky exhaled a stream of smoke. "Never saw that ability back in the day. Mythical Zoan, huh, White-kun?"
—
Back on the battlefield, both men had stopped bothering with defense.
White Ghost's blade carved another line across Kaido's chest.
Kaido took the hit and smashed his kanabo into White Ghost's ribs in return.
They were both blown back, smashing into the ice hard enough to crack it in spiderwebs. They hit, bounced once—then rolled back to their feet in the same moment and charged again.
Garp's expression had turned serious.
"The brat's already reached that step… From here on, it's all on him."
Beside him, both Chaton and Gion watched White Ghost with burning eyes. As Zoan users themselves, they knew exactly what they were looking at.
"Hah… hah… hah…"
White Ghost's breath rasped like a bellows.
"Wororororo… Brat, you're at your limit, aren't you? It's only been two days. Old man Kaido can still fight ten nights," Kaido sneered, all bravado.
They had been fighting for two full days.
They were both up against the wall. The only question left was: who would be the first to step through?
"Come on then, Kaido."
White Ghost raised the Great Treasure Sword behind him, blade parallel with the ground. Under top-grade Armament, the sword shone with an oily, pitch-black sheen.
"Tch. The first one to step over that line… is going to be me," Kaido growled, raising his kanabo.
"Heavy Strike Slash…"
"Thunder Bagua…"
GLAAANG—!
Their weapons collided with a sound like a bell being struck, both of them pouring literally everything into that one clash, wringing out the last scraps of strength from muscle and bone.
The shockwaves battered their bodies in return. There was no Conqueror's on this one, no finesse—only raw flesh and steel colliding without restraint.
"AAAAAHHH!!"
Twin roars ripped through the air.
Between their weapons, something rippled—
Then a shockwave burst outward and flung them both away.
BOOM. BOOM.
Two bodies hit the ice and didn't move.
If not for the faint rise and fall of their chests, everyone watching would have thought they were dead.
"What… what happened? Who won?"
On the battlefield and on screens around the world, everyone held their breath.
Only three people never looked away:
Garp.
Whitebeard.
Big Mom.
All three kept their eyes fixed on the same thing—the two fallen bodies on the ice.
—
White Ghost felt like he was dying.
He couldn't move a finger. He could barely breathe. Even his eyelids felt like they weighed tons.
He tried anyway. Forced one eye open—
…and saw nothing but darkness.
"An inner world…?"
He pushed himself to his feet and looked ahead.
There was a throne in the distance.
"You're here," said the figure seated on it.
He wore a golden dragon robe, horns curling from his forehead, pupils molten gold. He had White Ghost's face… and yet not.
"Heh. Should I be calling you Senior Yinglong, or my inner demon?" White Ghost asked, smiling faintly.
"You can call me either." The man on the throne smiled back. "From the moment you gained my power, this moment was inevitable."
He gestured lazily around them.
"There's an old saying in this world: Zoan-type Devil Fruits are said to be the most dangerous to awaken. There's a reason for that."
"And the test?" White Ghost tilted his head.
"Test?" Yinglong thought about it, then shook his head.
"No test. What you're seeing here is just the last scrap of my consciousness. I'm the final gate between you and awakening."
He leaned his cheek on his fist.
"Think of it this way: when you first ate the fruit, you didn't completely digest me. I've just been waiting here."
The corner of White Ghost's mouth curled up.
"So all I have to do is fuse you into myself, and it's done?"
"Exactly." Yinglong snapped his fingers.
"Although, you should think it through. I'm an independent consciousness. Either you absorb me—"
His smile sharpened.
"—or I take the body and you disappear."
White Ghost didn't even hesitate.
He stepped up to the throne in a single stride, reached out—
—and drove his hand straight through Yinglong's chest.
Schk.
His fingers closed around a beating heart.
Yinglong's smile widened.
"That's not 'fusion,' you know. That's theft."
"Call it what you want, Senior Yinglong," White Ghost said calmly. "I'm done being anyone's puppet."
He squeezed.
Crunch.
The heart burst in his hand.
"Congratulations," Yinglong laughed, even as he crumbled away to golden dust. "My power… is yours to explore now. I'm finally free."
His voice faded, and with it, the throne and the darkness.
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