On the palace platform.
"They... they all..." Vivi's face turned deathly pale as she looked at the unconscious soldiers and countrymen scattered across the ground. Her hands instinctively clenched her skirt, her voice trembling.
"Don't worry." Ryan appeared beside Vivi without warning, the peach-colored scales receding to reveal his sleek black combat attire. "They're not dead, just unconscious. They'll wake up in a few hours."
Having only recently mastered Conqueror's Haki, Ryan couldn't yet control it freely or direct its intimidation. Conqueror's Haki infusion was still beyond his grasp. Covering such a large area as the square was impossible for now. That earlier roar had relied on the physiological pressure of the Giant Dragon form's "Dragon Roar," combined with the mental intimidation of Conqueror's Haki, to barely encompass the entire plaza.
With both forces at play, the resulting destructive power exceeded expectations, which was why some of the weaker soldiers had blood trickling from their mouths.
Following Ryan's gaze, Vivi saw someone's fingers twitch slightly below. Only then did her hanging heart settle, her tense shoulders slumping as relief washed over her—though her eyes still burned.
Even if it was just unconsciousness, the sheer power required to knock out tens of thousands in an instant was terrifying. When she turned to Ryan, words failed her, and all she could manage was a quiet "Thank you."
"Hmph. Pretentious." A cold voice laced with undisguised disdain and mockery came from behind.
Crocodile had straightened up at some point, his right hand resting on the golden hook attached to his left. His expression was dark. "You think this little trick solves anything?"
The Conqueror's Haki in that earlier Dragon Roar had been startling, but seeing Ryan's calm demeanor now only stoked Crocodile's murderous intent and unease. Still, he clung to his usual arrogance. "Once they wake up, the fighting will resume. This so-called 'peace' is nothing but an illusion."
Ryan turned, locking eyes with Crocodile, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Want to test whether we can make that illusion a permanent reality?"
"So you really are here to die for this little girl."
Crocodile's expression darkened, the golden hook glinting coldly in the sunlight. In the first half of the Grand Line, he had never considered anyone a threat—but the pressure of Ryan's dragon form and his Conqueror's Haki forced him to stay on high alert.
Yet vigilance didn't mean surrender.
"Die?" Ryan scoffed, fingers tapping lightly on his sword hilt. "Sand Crocodile, you should understand—I'm the one giving you choices here."
"Choices? In Alabasta, I'm the one who dictates terms!" Crocodile barked out a laugh, stepping forward as sand churned beneath his feet. His voice rose sharply, laced with ruthless authority. "Either leave, or... die!"
Vivi instinctively moved in front of Ryan, her blue hair whipping in the wind. "Crocodile! You're the one who started this war!"
Crocodile ignored her entirely, his vicious gaze fixed on Ryan as he slowly raised his golden hook. "Choose, trash."
"Seems you picked the latter." Ryan chuckled lowly at the desperate fury in Crocodile's eyes before drawing his blade, its surface gleaming coldly in the sunlight.
"Desert Treasure Blade!"
Crocodile's eyes narrowed. The sand at his feet erupted as he swung his arm, sending a massive curved blade of compressed sand hurtling toward Ryan with a shrieking gust.
Ryan flicked his wrist, releasing a sword wave. The moment the two edges collided, a piercing shatter rang out—the Desert Treasure Blade exploded into a shower of sand.
In the same breath, Ryan shot forward like a cannonball, his blade tracing a cold arc through the air. Armament Haki, dark purple and lethal, coated the steel as he tore through the sand mist. The strike was straightforward, thunderous, aimed straight for Crocodile's face.
Crocodile activated his powers, his body dissolving into sand as he retreated. He reformed three meters away—only for Ryan's figure to blur as his feet tapped the ground in rapid succession.
"Soru!"
This was one of the Marines' Six Powers, a technique Ryan had picked up after seeing Hina use it. In an instant, he closed the distance, swinging Wind Splitter upward in a black flash aimed at Crocodile's neck.
Crocodile's pupils contracted. He barely raised his golden hook in time to block. The deafening clang sent the hook recoiling violently.
"Not bad for trash," Crocodile sneered, clutching his shoulder, his eyes dark as a sandstorm.
"All bark, no bite." Ryan tilted his blade, smirking. "Look at you—supposedly one of the Seven Warlords, yet after Whitebeard crushed you, you lost your nerve. Hiding in Alabasta, scheming like a coward."
Crocodile hadn't earned his place among the Seven Warlords by chance. He had tangled with monsters like Doflamingo and Hawkeye during the Summit War, even clashed head-on with Akainu. That took real skill.
But this wasn't his prime.
Ever since retreating to Alabasta, obsessed with his plots, he'd lost the ruthless edge that once defined him. A man who relied on schemes over strength could never reclaim that reckless ferocity. True power didn't lurk in the shadows.
In truth, Crocodile had trapped himself. Whitebeard's defeat had left too deep a scar, making him fear facing challenges head-on. Instead, he turned to underhanded tactics.
Once that fighting spirit faded, even if the foundation remained, he could only muster a fraction of his former strength. In life-or-death battles, victory went to those who fought without hesitation. The moment hesitation showed, defeat was certain.
No wonder he'd fallen to a rookie like Luffy. It wasn't that the kid was unbeatable—Crocodile simply no longer deserved the title of Warlord.
"Corrosive Samsara!" Crocodile slammed his right hand onto the ground. The stone platform withered instantly, cracks spiderwebbing outward until the entire area became a churning desert. Even the pillars eroded, teetering dangerously.
"Changing the battlefield?" Ryan shook the sand off his blade, unimpressed. Dark Armament Haki coated Wind Splitter once more. "Too bad you're not strong enough. These tricks just make you look pathetic."
Crocodile's face darkened. He kicked off the sand, sliding like an arrow as his right arm expanded into a swirling mass. "Crescent Dune!"
A crescent-shaped sand blade shrieked through the air, slicing toward Ryan's torso. Ryan didn't dodge. At the last second, peach-colored scales rippled across his abdomen, reinforced by a layer of dark purple Haki.
The sand blade struck—and skidded off harmlessly, sparks flying. Ryan's sword came down in a black streak. Crocodile barely conjured a sand shield in time.
The Haki-infused blade split the shield like paper, continuing toward Crocodile's face.
"Damn it!" Crocodile rolled back, but the tip grazed his white coat, drawing blood. He staggered, glaring at Ryan's unscathed torso—the scales were fading, but the Haki remained intact.
"I misjudged you. You're no trash." Crocodile's voice was icy as he detached his golden hook with an unnatural twist. "I acknowledge your strength. Let's end this."
Ryan eyed the black liquid dripping from the hook—poison. His expression didn't change.
In life-or-death fights, there were no rules. Poison, ambushes—whatever worked. Honor was meaningless. Survival was all that mattered.
"Sandstorm."
A vortex formed in Crocodile's palm, sand condensing into a walnut-sized storm before he hurled it. The moment it left his hand, it expanded violently, devouring surrounding sand until it blotted out the sky.
The storm's edge was a blade, grinding stone railings to dust.
In the distance, Nico Robin raised a stone barrier with her powers but was forced back by the gale. Vivi, who had just reached the palace entrance, was pinned to a pillar, her blue hair whipping wildly as she clung to her skirt.
The moment Ryan was swallowed by the storm, grit obscured his vision. The hiss of grinding sand filled his ears, masking Crocodile's position. Countless sharp grains needled his skin, a dry, spreading ache.
Crocodile was using the storm as cover.
A sharp whistle came from behind. Ryan didn't turn—scales and Haki flared across his forehead just as the poisoned hook struck.
The clang sent the hook rebounding, venom sizzling harmlessly against his scales.
Poison? He wasn't afraid of toxins. He could take the hit.
Crocodile's eyes widened. Before he could retract the hook, a crushing impact shattered his jaw. Blood and teeth sprayed as he was launched skyward, his coat tearing in the wind.
After several flips, Crocodile twisted midair, his right hand clenching. This time, the sandstorm he summoned was denser, crackling with electricity—compressed to its limit.
"Die, you fool!"
"Heavy-Type Sandstorm!" Crocodile hurled the storm downward. The electrified sand crashed like a meteor, the shockwave toppling ruined walls.
Then—a black slash tore through the storm's heart, a blade of pure Haki streaking upward to strike Crocodile midair.
Blood gushed from his mouth. His pupils dilated, whites showing as his body went limp. He plummeted, hitting the sand with a dull thud.