The wind from the Northern Sea howled across the eastern ridge of Elbaf, carrying the sharp scent of pine needles, crushed frost, and exposed stone. High above the sheer cliffs, the ground trembled beneath the heavy, coordinated steps of eleven giant warriors.
They stood in a wide arc across the snow-dusted crest, surrounding the lone intruder from every direction.
These were not the frightened recruits left behind in the village. They were members of Elbaf's elite vanguard. Warriors who had survived the seas beyond Warland, shattered pirate ships with thrown weapons, and hunted creatures large enough to drag ordinary vessels beneath the waves.
At the centre of their formation stood one human.
Dracule Mihawk appeared impossibly small among them. He was no taller than a giant's finger and could have stood beneath the sole of one of their boots without reaching halfway to the top. His long black coat shifted softly in the mountain wind, and the wide brim of his hat cast a shadow across his sharp features.
Yoru rested in his hands.
The enormous blade was colossal by human standards, yet even it looked like a narrow dagger when compared with the weapons surrounding him. Its cruciform hilt gleamed beneath the grey sky while Mihawk's golden eyes moved calmly across the towering circle.
He showed neither fear nor anger.
Not one giant mistook his size for weakness.
"Do not underestimate him!" Hajrudin roared, both hands tightening around the hilt of his immense sword. "This is the man Elder Jarul warned us about. Give him no space to move!"
The giants did not rush forward as an undisciplined mob. Years of training allowed the opening three to move as one, each attack designed to close the escape route left by the others.
Stansen struck first.
His iron staff swept low across the frozen ridge, its enormous length cutting through trees and loose stone as it came toward Mihawk. The weapon travelled just above the ground, blocking any attempt to escape sideways.
Bjorn advanced from the opposite flank. He drove the lower edge of his fortress shield into the bedrock, sealing the western side of the ridge behind a wall of iron and wood.
Hajrudin attacked from above.
He lifted his sword over his head and brought it down with both hands, pouring the full strength and weight of his enormous body into the descending strike. The blade tore through the wind with a deafening howl, its shadow swallowing the human standing below.
The ground began to crack before the weapon reached him.
Mihawk did not attempt to overpower the attack.
As Stansen's staff passed beneath him, Mihawk stepped onto its moving surface.
His boots touched the iron so lightly that the staff did not slow. He allowed its momentum to carry him upward, rising along its length just as Hajrudin's sword crashed into the spot where he had been standing.
BOOM!
The ridge shook violently.
Stone burst outward from the impact, and fractures raced across the cliff face. Snow and shattered rock were thrown into the air, but Hajrudin's sword had struck nothing except the mountain.
Before the young giant could recover, Mihawk landed on the flat of the descending blade.
To Hajrudin, the swordsman was little more than a black speck standing on his weapon.
Mihawk turned Yoru in one hand and placed the flat of the black blade against the spine of Hajrudin's sword. He did not need to overpower the giant. A small adjustment at the correct angle was enough.
Hajrudin's own momentum carried the weapon sideways.
The sword slammed into Bjorn's fortress shield.
CLANG!
The collision rang across the mountains like a struck bell. Bjorn's feet tore through the stone as the shield was driven back into his chest. His stance collapsed, and he tumbled across the ridge with Hajrudin falling heavily beside him.
Stansen pulled his staff back, intending to throw Mihawk from it before the human could regain his footing.
Mihawk was already moving.
He slid along the iron shaft toward Stansen's hands, his coat streaming behind him. The giant attempted to release one side of the weapon and strike him, but Mihawk reached his face first.
Yoru turned in his grip.
The back of the black blade struck the side of Stansen's jaw.
THUD!
The blow was tiny compared with the giant's body, yet every bit of force had been placed exactly where it needed to be. The impact travelled through Stansen's jaw and into the base of his skull.
His eyes rolled back.
The enormous warrior collapsed onto the fractured ridge, shaking the mountain when his body struck the ground.
The entire exchange had lasted only a few seconds.
Hajrudin, Bjorn, and Stansen lay among the broken stone, alive but unable to continue. Mihawk stood between them without a mark on his coat and without having taken a single unnecessary step.
Hajrudin coughed and forced himself onto one elbow. Pain spread through his arms and chest, but his attention remained fixed on the human standing near his face.
Only then did he understand what had happened.
During the instant Mihawk had stood on his sword, Yoru's edge had rested directly beside Hajrudin's exposed throat. One slight movement would have opened his neck before he could react. Stansen and Bjorn had been left just as vulnerable during their own attacks.
Mihawk had chosen not to kill any of them.
"You spared us," Hajrudin said, his deep voice roughened by pain. "You could have taken all three of our heads."
Mihawk lowered Yoru to his side.
"Dead men cannot answer questions."
Hajrudin's brow tightened. "What questions?"
Mihawk's gaze remained cold and direct.
"Where is Giovanni?"
The answer made Hajrudin pause.
Mihawk had crossed Elbaf, ignored every warning, and dismantled three elite warriors without killing them. Yet he showed no interest in the kingdom's laws, its council, or the accusations surrounding the attacks.
He wanted only one man.
"Hold your positions!"
An ancient voice rolled across the ridge.
Elder Jarul emerged from the forest path, his long beard and heavy cloak whipping in the wind. The remaining eight warriors followed behind him, their weapons ready but their earlier confidence visibly shaken by how quickly the first formation had fallen.
Jarul crossed the broken ground and knelt beside Hajrudin. His enormous hand hovered over the young warrior's chest and shoulders as he examined the injuries.
Nothing had been severed. No deep blade wounds crossed the body. The damage was controlled, concussive, and placed with astonishing care.
Jarul looked toward Stansen and Bjorn.
Their injuries followed the same pattern.
The reports from the southern shore had described something entirely different: men found with stolen shadows, brutal wounds, and evidence of attacks delivered without honor or restraint. The council had connected those incidents to Giovanni because he was the most dangerous outsider within reach.
What Jarul saw now did not resemble those attacks.
'These wounds were made by a man who knew exactly what he could have cut and deliberately chose not to.'
His eyes narrowed.
It was not yet enough to clear Giovanni. A swordsman of Mihawk's ability could change his method whenever it suited him, and the threats to Elbaf had not been fully understood. Jarul would not reverse the council's judgment based only on suspicion.
But the certainty behind that judgment had begun to crack.
Jarul rose and turned toward the remaining warriors.
"Listen carefully," he ordered. "You have already seen what happens when you treat him like an ordinary intruder. Do not attack him one at a time, and do not assume his size limits what he can do."
The eight giants tightened their grips.
Four stepped forward.
Sig carried an enormous shield reinforced with overlapping iron plates. Thormann held a heavy war hammer capable of crushing a ship's hull. Gantonio uncoiled a thick chain fitted with a broad hooked axe, while D.D. Tee lowered a long spear from behind the others.
They moved into position without needing further commands.
Sig and Thormann brought their shields together, forming a solid barrier across the ridge. Gantonio's chained weapon moved around the outer edge, ready to trap Mihawk wherever he stepped, while D.D. Tee's spear hovered above the wall, prepared to descend the instant the swordsman committed to an attack.
The four-man formation sealed every obvious path.
Elbaf's ancient Iron Wall locked into place.
Behind it, Rhodes, Raideen, Kiba, and Blyue waited for their turn, studying every movement Mihawk made.
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