On the battered shoreline, the storm had finally calmed.
Jack's coat hung in tatters. A deep cut oozed blood just above his left eyebrow, and several long gashes painted his shirt a vivid crimson. His breathing was labored, like the heavy bellows of a forge.
Opposite him, Hawkeye Mihawk was no longer the picture of perfection. A clean slice marred his right shoulder, and a splash of blood stained his high collar. Though his breath was steady, the tautness in his posture revealed the heavy toll of their fierce duel.
The beach was a scene of utter devastation. The once-white sands were now gouged into deep, jagged trenches.
The cliffs surrounding them looked as if a giant had taken a razor to the stone, practicing some chaotic form of calligraphy.
Jack tightened his grip on Wado Ichimonji, while Mihawk raised his black blade, Yoru, its position unwavering.
They moved as one.
A clash of raw, unfiltered conqueror's pressure shattered the clouds above one last time. Jack parried a downward strike, spinning inside Mihawk's guard to unleash a lightning-quick counter.
Mihawk leaned back, the edge of Jack's blade leaving a thin, red line across his cheek.
A rare, thrilling spark ignited in Mihawk's golden eyes. "Magnificent."
The final shockwave sent both men skidding back across the sand, their boots carving deep furrows until they finally came to a stop.
They stood there, chests heaving, blades lowered but still at the ready.
Minutes ticked by in complete silence, save for the rhythmic crashing of the waves. Finally, Mihawk smoothly turned Yoru and slid it into the cross-guard sheath on his back.
Jack stared for a moment, then sighed, sheathing Wado Ichimonji with a sharp click.
"A draw, then?" Jack asked, wiping the blood from his brow.
Mihawk gazed out over the open sea, his expression inscrutable. "For today."
Jack let out a rough laugh, a sharp grin breaking through his fatigue. "I can live with that."
For a long moment, neither he nor the World's Strongest Swordsman uttered a word.
The duel had come to an end.
Neither had truly triumphed, nor had either truly failed; they had simply pushed each other to the brink where continuing would mean risking their lives, not just testing their skills.
Mihawk glanced down at the shallow crimson line marking his shoulder. He lightly brushed a pale finger over the blood, his hawklike yellow eyes narrowing just a bit.
"You're impressive."
Jack flashed a grin, even as a thin trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. "I've heard that a few times before."
Mihawk's gaze locked onto Jack's, sharp enough to slice. "When we cross paths again..."
"...make sure you're stronger."
Jack tilted his head, his braided hair swaying with the motion. "You planning to track me down across the Blues, then?"
"No." Mihawk calmly secured the black blade, Yoru, onto his back. "But if fate decides to bring us to the same sea again... I would welcome another duel."
Jack's grin widened. "I'll do my best not to let you down."
"You already haven't."
For the stoic Dracule Mihawk, that was as close to a compliment as one could get. Jack blinked, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "...Well, that almost sounded nice."
"It was."
"I'll cherish it, then." Jack chuckled.
Mihawk gave a brief nod. Without another word, he turned his back on the battlefield, his dark cloak billowing in the sea breeze.
Jack frowned. "Leaving already? Not even going to stick around for a drink?"
Mihawk didn't slow down. "I came looking for a swordsman. I found one. My mission is complete. Perhaps next time we meet."
"That's it?" Jack stared in disbelief. "You sailed all this way just for a few swings, and now you're off?"
"Yes."
"You're a strange one," Jack muttered, shaking his head.
Mihawk glanced back just once over his shoulder. "So I've been told."
He stepped onto his boat—if you could even call it that.
Jack and Crocodile exchanged incredulous glances at the absurd little vessel. Honestly, how it had managed to survive the wild currents and the sea kings of the Grand Line was nothing short of a miracle.
Crocodile crossed her arms, her expression a mix of disbelief and annoyance. "...That piece of driftwood actually made it through the Grand Line?"
Mihawk didn't even glance back as he untied the line. "It does what it needs to do."
Jack shifted his gaze between the tiny raft and the vast, roiling ocean. "...I'd be at the bottom before breakfast."
"With your skills, that's a real possibility," Mihawk shot back, his tone flat.
Jack feigned offense, throwing his hands up in protest. "I'll have you know I'm a fantastic sailor!"
Crocodile replied deadpan, "We shipwreck every few weeks."
"Just trust the compass!"
"The compass is broken!"
"The compass is the reason you're still breathing, love."
Dragon quietly rubbed his temples. As the leader of the Freedom Fighters, he had encountered many quirky characters, but these two were quickly becoming a standout duo.
Mihawk drove his black sword into the raft like a makeshift mast, letting the tide take him. Just as the thick morning mist began to envelop his figure, his deep voice echoed across the water one last time.
"Jack."
Jack looked up.
"The Grand Line only gets tougher from here. If today's strength is your limit... you won't last."
Jack's easy smile remained intact as he placed a hand on the pommel of his sword. "Then I'll just have to push past this limit."
For the first time since they met, a hint of a smile flickered across Mihawk's lips. "Good."
The mist thickened, and the World's Strongest Swordsman disappeared into the white void.
Silence fell over the beach. Jack scratched his cheek, breaking the stillness. "...Interesting guy."
"The others," Dragon said, his voice heavy with concern. "We need to find them. Ivankov took Gibbs into the forest for treatment, and your sniper Augur vanished in the chaos." He glanced back over his shoulder.
"Kuma."
The towering Buccaneer nodded silently and began striding toward the thick tree line.
Jack rolled his shoulder, but the movement sent a sharp pain shooting through him. His shirt was torn and drenched in dark blood, and the deep gash across his chest was still oozing steadily.
Dragon caught the stumble. "You need immediate medical attention."
Jack fished a flask out of his coat, popping the cork with his teeth. "What I need are priorities." He took a long, fiery swig of rum.
"There. That's your medicine."
Crocodile shot him a glare, her eye twitching. "...Rum is not medicine, you idiot."
"It is if you believe hard enough."
"You're going to bleed out all over my boots."
Jack glanced down at his chest, poking one of the deeper cuts. He winced. "Hmm. That one stings a bit."
Dragon sighed, a rare moment of exasperation showing. "So reckless."
"I've had worse," Jack replied, taking another swig.
The burn of the alcohol steadied his breathing. He pointed his flask toward the foggy woods. "Now, let's go find our missing crew and track down Augur."
As they stepped under the canopy of towering trees, the thick fog enveloped them instantly. The vibrant sounds of the jungle had vanished; no insects buzzed, and no birds chirped.
Jack's brow furrowed. His Observation Haki flared instinctively, spreading out like a web. Nothing. Just the unsettling creak of branches.
Dragon slowed his pace, narrowing his eyes. "...Something's off."
Kuma halted, clutching his Bible tightly against his chest. His usually blank expression tightened with sudden alertness.
Crocodile's bit her cigar, a chill running down her spine. "...You feel that too?"
Dragon nodded, his cloak fluttering despite the stillness around them.
"Oh." Jack glanced around, taking another sniff. "...Still just trees."
Out of nowhere, the wind completely vanished. The forest felt heavy, almost suffocating, as if gravity had suddenly doubled its grip. An invisible weight settled over the area, making it tough to take a full breath.
Jack's playful attitude evaporated in an instant. His hand instinctively dropped back to Wado Ichimonji. "...Alright. I feel that."
Kuma turned his massive head deeper into the fog, his paws tensing up.
"Someone powerful is coming," Dragon warned, a storm brewing in his eyes.
Crocodile's heart raced against her ribs.
That pressure... she had only felt an aura like this once before, years ago, in the depths of the New World. It was the overwhelming presence of a legend.
A monster whose very existence could twist the atmosphere around them. Her fingers tightened around her golden hook until her knuckles turned white.
"...Please," she whispered, a rare hint of dread creeping into her voice. "...don't let it be him."
Jack shot her a sideways glance, his sharp eyes catching her unease. "You know who's causing this ruckus?"
She hesitated, staring into the mist, her face pale. "...I hope I'm wrong. If I'm right... we're all in serious trouble."
CRACK.
Branches snapped violently ahead of them. Someone was barreling through the brush at a terrifying speed.
Jack drew his blade, the cold steel glinting in the dim light. Wind began to whip around Dragon's boots, and Kuma shifted into a defensive stance.
The sound grew louder, crashing through the undergrowth until—
A figure burst through the fog.
It was Van Augur.
The usually pristine sniper looked like he had been through hell. His coat was torn to shreds, his face smeared with dirt and dried blood, and his glasses were badly cracked. Even his beloved rifle, Senriku, was bent and battered.
Augur stumbled, nearly falling before catching himself on a tree trunk. "...Captain."
Jack's eyes widened. "...Augur?!"
But what really grabbed everyone's attention was the creature bursting forth right behind him—a stunning bird with brilliant crimson feathers. This unusual avian landed right beside Augur, puffing out its chest and screeching protectively at the shadows lurking nearby.
Jack blinked, the tension easing for a moment. "...When did you get a bird?"
Augur adjusted his broken glasses with a shaky hand. "...It's a long story, Captain."
Jack nodded gravely. "Got it. We can skip the details."
Crocodile, however, paid no mind to the bird. Her gaze was fixed on the darkness behind Augur. The oppressive weight in the air wasn't letting up.
Dragon stepped in closer, positioning himself to shield the injured sniper. "Crocodile. You know who this is."
Crocodile stayed silent for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she spoke, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "...I can't say for sure. But there's only one solitary monster from the old era that carries an aura this vile."
Jack glanced between them, growing impatient. "...Could someone please tell me who we're talking about?"
Before anyone could respond, the crimson bird flared its wings, its feathers bristling as it let out a frantic, piercing cry. "KIIIIII!"
Augur struggled to lift his bent rifle, his usually calm, philosophical tone cracking with real urgency.
"...Captain. We need to get out of here, now."
Jack's eyes narrowed into a fierce glare as he peered past the sniper into the thick fog. "...Who the hell is after you?"
Augur stared into the mist, his expression darker than a stormy night.
"...Patrick Redfield."