The clash between the Roger Pirates and the Whitebeard Pirates spread like wildfire across the island, but in the middle of that storm, one duel seized its own spotlight.
Teach's aura, impossible to hide, drew the gaze of a towering man with spiked gauntlets and a tattoo of dragon scales running across his chest. His left eye burned bright while his right eye remained shut tight—blind, yet no less sharp. He cracked a grin as five sharp claw slashes hurtled toward him.
Haki wrapped his fists like iron armor, and with a casual swing, he shattered the slashes apart.
"Not bad, kid. Let's see if you can take my punch." His voice boomed as he surged forward.
Teach bared his teeth in a grin, claws gleaming. "Don't underestimate me, old man. Try surviving my claws!"
Their blows collided in a shower of sparks—steel against steel, muscle against muscle. The air rang with the clang of Haki clashing.
Teach's mind raced even as his body endured the pressure. His raw strength… it's monstrous. His Haki too. I can't match him head-on. But battle isn't only about power.
Their duel grew fierce. Other pirates gave them space, sensing instinctively that this fight belonged only to them.
The gauntleted warrior chuckled, looming over Teach. "You've got guts, brat!" His left fist darted forward like a cannonball.
But Teach caught it, straining against the weight. His teeth clenched. "I told you… don't underestimate me!" He shoved back, the two separating in a burst of force.
Flames and lightning crackled along Teach's forearms as his claws extended into demonic talons. "Demon Claws!" His voice roared over the battlefield. In a blur, he slipped to his foe's flank. "Rending Claw!"
A red arc slashed toward the man's ribs.
"Hmph! Who's underestimating whom?!" The gauntlet rose just in time, blocking the strike, but Teach's left claw was already swinging. A jab from the man's opposite fist met it mid-air. Both blows collided, each blocking the other.
The fight devolved into a brutal rhythm—jab for claw, punch for slash. Teach's body took punishing hits, his defenses trembling under each heavy blow. But with every exchange, his instincts sharpened, his Observation Haki screaming louder, his movements growing faster.
"Demon Claws: Stroking Slash!" His claws tore downward in a sweeping arc, a move he'd refined from watching samurai techniques in Wano.
"Bursting Punch!" The gauntleted man's fist swelled with steam and pressure. His punch ripped through the air like a cannon blast. The clash shattered the claw strike apart and forced Teach to dive aside, but he was already moving, already countering.
"Eight Maidens!" Teach's body split into afterimages, eight ghostly claws carving into his foe from every direction.
Blood sprayed. Shallow cuts streaked the man's chest and arms, not fatal but enough to mark him. He growled in surprise. "Tch—!" But even as Teach darted back, a fist drove into his abdomen, doubling him over.
The samurai-born claws met the brute's fists again and again, sparks and blood flying. Neither gave an inch.
Hours passed. The island's skies darkened, dusk painting the battlefield in firelight. Teach's right eye was bruised purple, his body streaked with blood. His opponent was no better, his chest slashed deep by a twenty-centimeter claw mark, his gauntlets cracked and dented.
Neither man surrendered.
Finally, as the sun sank into the horizon, both fighters collapsed backward, panting, only to drag themselves up again, grinning despite their wounds.
"It's a draw," Teach rasped, bloodied teeth flashing. "But tomorrow… I'll finish you."
The man laughed through the pain, shoulders heaving. "Hah! We'll see, brat." Yet deep in his heart, he thought, What a monster. His stamina… his growth… if I fight him again tomorrow, will I still be able to hold him back?
That night, both crews fell into uneasy truce. Fires burned bright as cooks laid out meals, laughter and groans mixing with the smell of roasted meat.
Teach staggered back to his comrades, still smiling despite his bruises.
"How'd it go?" Mobius asked, his own body battered and torn.
"A draw," Teach answered with quiet pride. "But tomorrow, I'll crush him." His eyes gleamed with certainty, not arrogance.
Elsewhere, young Buggy tugged at Shanks's sleeve, pointing excitedly. "Shanks, look—it's them! Those guys we met on Pet Island!"
Shanks chewed a hunk of meat, squinting. His eyes widened in recognition. "You're right. I didn't think they'd be with Whitebeard's crew." He chuckled and returned to eating. "Well, it's just a truce for now. Tomorrow we'll see who's still standing."
Late into the night, the island fell quiet under the chorus of snoring pirates. But Teach remained awake, perched in a tree, staring at the stars. His body screamed in pain, but his heart burned brighter than ever.
Morning came with rain pounding the island. And with it, the two warriors faced each other again.
"Today you'll fall by my claws," Teach said, standing tall, his body already healed beyond reason.
The man's brows furrowed in surprise at his recovery. "Monster… what's your name, brat?"
"Teach!" His claws gleamed, Haki swirling around them.
"Fine then, Teach. Let's fight until one of us drops!"
They charged, voices colliding with thunder.
Claw against fist. Blood against rain. The battle raged for hours, both men tearing chunks of life from one another. At last, Teach roared, blood flying from his lips, and unleashed his finishing strike.
"Demon Claws: Rift Valley!"
A crescent of blood-red energy carved through the storm, splitting the rain itself. It tore across his opponent's body from shoulder to waist. Flesh ripped open, crimson pouring down into the mud.
The gauntleted warrior froze, then collapsed, his body broken but alive.
Teach stood over him, chest heaving, rain washing the blood from his claws. For a long moment, silence pressed down. Then he smiled, teeth sharp in the storm.
His foe had fallen.
And Teach's legend had begun to grow.