"Hey! Mobius, where did Teach go?" Marco pushed open the door, only to find the room empty of the man he sought. Inside were only Mobius and the others.
"I don't know. Boss Teach left," Mobius replied, shaking his head. He offered no further explanation.
Outside, Marco sighed helplessly. "Vista, Teach isn't here again. This whole year, he's barely spent a few days with us before disappearing for half a month or more. It's been too long since I've seen him properly."
"What is Teach thinking?" Vista muttered, unease pricking at him.
"I don't know. We've never really understood him," Marco admitted, leaning back against the wall and staring up at the dim sky. "Now, besides training, he rarely stays on the Moby Dick. It feels like there's a wall between us and him."
"Yeah. He's even skipped several banquets." Vista nodded grimly. He had been close to Teach, drinking with him often at feasts, sparring with him in swordsmanship. But lately, Teach had been absent, spending very little time aboard the flagship.
"Haven't you noticed his aura?" A passing pirate overheard their words and joined in. "Every time Teach returns, I feel fear gnawing at me, like his presence presses down on my chest."
"That's battle aura," Marco said quietly. "He must've been through intense fights."
"Who was he fighting? It had to be someone strong," Vista wondered aloud.
"I asked last month," Marco said, shaking his head. "Teach wouldn't answer clearly. He only said it was a powerful opponent."
For the Whitebeard Pirates, life had become relatively peaceful. They mostly guarded their territory, with divisions taking turns patrolling the seas.
The Second Division Captain was still Kozuki Oden's position, though Oden himself had returned to Wano to succeed as shogun. Many had recommended Teach for the captaincy—he had saved countless comrades' lives with his sharpshooting and earned much prestige. But Teach refused every time.
Instead, he spent most of his days away.
Sometimes at White Sand Island with Loya and Mostima, sometimes sparring or training others, sometimes on Fruit Island with Kakarot, or Devil Island, and occasionally even Seth Island to check on Annie.
But more than anywhere else, Teach spent his time on Devil Island. Especially after Roger was crowned Pirate King, a sense of urgency had gripped him.
Simple training wasn't enough anymore. He needed battle.
Devil Island.
"Let's have a big fight, Ares!" Teach roared, bare-chested, his blood surging with excitement. From afar, he felt it—the familiar aura, the oppressive intent, the thrill of a worthy opponent.
On the highest peak of the island, a golden-armored, humanoid ant king sat upon a throne of white bones, gnawing absently at marrow. At Teach's call, the creature's head snapped up. His mandibles clicked, and with a piercing screech that split the skies, he answered.
The Ant King.
Teach's smile widened. His blood boiled. He surged forward, Conqueror's Haki rippling out, toppling beasts left and right. Those that survived fled in terror—not only from Teach, but from the second monstrous presence rushing to meet him.
Ares, as Teach had named him, was no ordinary beast. Born as a variant of the Gold-Devouring Ant, he was a natural sovereign, a walking calamity. Monstrous strength, a body like steel, instincts as sharp as a blade—and more frightening still, the ability to learn.
For over a year, Teach had battled him. Their duels, fought monthly, lasted days, shaking the island. Through them, Ares had grown into the undisputed overlord of Devil Island.
Now, as both combatants thundered toward each other, their clash split the air.
"Demon Claw!"
"Gehhh!"
Teach's claws, blackened with Haki and crackling with fire and lightning, met Ares's four massive arms. Sparks rained. The ground shattered.
Every strike from the Ant King carried hundreds, even thousands of tons of force. But worse was his growth—through countless duels, Ares had awakened all three forms of Haki. His Armament rivaled Teach's, his Observation worked seamlessly with his racial instincts, and his Conqueror's surged with a primal, fearsome dominance.
They clashed, retreated, and clashed again. Teach's claws scored wounds across Ares's armored shell. Fire and lightning seared into him, lingering painfully. But the Ant King only roared louder, his fighting spirit growing more savage.
From dawn to dusk, dusk to night, night to dawn, they battled. The island quaked beneath their fury. By the second day, both stood bloodied, panting, yet still fighting as equals.
Finally, exhaustion overcame them. Teach collapsed on his back, staring at the sky, chest heaving. Across from him, the Ant King leaned against a tree, also spent.
The battlefield lay in ruins. Forests flattened, earth gouged into craters, beasts fled or slain. And yet, for the two combatants, this was only another sparring session.
Later, flames crackled as Teach roasted two bear paws, sprinkling seasoning across the sizzling meat. The rich aroma filled the clearing. Ares stared, drool dripping from his mandibles.
Teach smirked and handed one over. The two monsters ate in silence.
When they finished, Teach leaned back, his expression softening. "Ares," he said quietly, "I'm leaving. This time, it might be years before I return."
The Ant King froze, stunned. His mandibles clicked uncertainly.
Teach looked at him, conflicted. In their endless battles, a bond had formed. He had not planned to recruit Ares—but now? The thought tempted him.
The Ant King's sharp, almost human eyes reflected surprise, even reluctance. Teach chuckled softly, turning his gaze toward the endless sea beyond.