Chapter 278: This Haki... How Exactly Did I Use It Again?
Neither dodging nor blocking an incoming attack—in Yamato's eyes, this behavior firmly categorized the man as an absolute, hopeless idiot.
After all, what kind of person uses their face to parry a spiked iron club? Forget humans; even wild beasts possessed enough basic survival instinct to dodge an incoming attack.
In truth, Crocodile hadn't anticipated this outcome either.
Aside from the Dark-Dark Fruit, which amplified pain, the universal characteristic of Logia-type Devil Fruits was absolute elemental intangibility. This passive trait rendered all conventional physical attacks entirely useless against them.
According to Crocodile's flawless script, Yamato would swing her club, his body would automatically scatter into intangible sand, and as the sand reformed behind her, he would deliver a mocking laugh while utterly ridiculing the pathetic weakness of the younger generation.
Who could have predicted that a brat who looked barely twelve years old could casually use advanced Armament Haki?!
"Haki... It's been a long time since I've felt that..." Crocodile muttered, his voice cold and raspy.
In the first half of the Grand Line, Haki was essentially a mythical power. Aside from a handful of veteran powerhouses, the vast majority of pirates hadn't even heard of it. Even those who subconsciously awakened it often had no idea what the power was actually called. It wasn't until one entered the New World—or the specific territory of Amazon Lily—that Haki became a fundamental prerequisite for survival.
His crushing defeat at the hands of Whitebeard happened years ago. Since retreating to Alabasta, Crocodile had practically never used Haki, simply because he never needed to.
He didn't need Observation Haki to predict enemy movements. Relying purely on his Logia intangibility, combined with the boundless, inexhaustible desert of Alabasta providing his element, Crocodile had firmly established himself as completely invincible in this sea.
Years of absolute comfort and unchallenged dominance had dulled his instincts. The brutal, unforgiving cruelty of the New World had become a distant, fading memory.
However, even if Crocodile had been in the New World, he still likely wouldn't have raised his guard. His opponent looked far too young. Mastering Haki at such a young age was considered a terrifying anomaly, even by New World standards.
Many top-tier powerhouses only mastered Armament Haki much later in life. Even former Marine Admiral "Black Arm" Zephyr famously didn't perfect Armament Hardening until he was thirty-four years old—making him practically a senior citizen by the standards of typical Haki cultivation.
For twelve-year-old monsters like Yamato and Chloe to wield Haki with such casual proficiency, they either possessed heaven-defying parental lineages, unparalleled masters, or were simply incomprehensible, natural-born anomalies.
"Such a nostalgic sensation. The last time I felt pain like this, it was that bastard Whitebeard who gave it to me..."
The throbbing agony on his face seemed to plunge Crocodile into nostalgic reminiscence. However, Yamato wasn't about to stand there and let him have a poignant flashback.
Her life experiences on Wano Country and Fish-Man Island had firmly taught Yamato one universal truth: people who acted like stubborn, arrogant idiots were usually ridiculously durable. Hitting them felt like punching a wall of cotton; they would just stand right back up as if nothing happened. People like Biku Panda, Jack... or Kaido.
Yes, in Yamato's eyes, her own father was occasionally a massive, irrational idiot whose behavior defied all logic.
And when dealing with idiots like that, there was only one solution: a relentless, endless barrage of consecutive attacks.
"Thunder Bagua!!"
It was the ultimate, one-trick-pony technique. As the absolute foundational move of Kaido's arsenal, the Thunder Bagua served as the root from which half of his entire combat system derived. Even the derivative techniques Yamato had personally developed were fundamentally anchored to this exact strike.
"Hmph. Brat, I was merely careless just now," Crocodile sneered. "Do you honestly believe the exact same trick will work twice?!"
Watching Yamato swing her massive kanabo at him again, Crocodile repeated his previous action. He stood perfectly still, a confident, mocking smirk plastered across his face.
[So what if she knows Armament Haki? All I have to do is use my Observation Haki to predict the exact point of impact, proactively shift my elemental body out of the way, and the attack will pass harmlessly through me.]
In addition to passive, reflexive elementalization when struck, a Logia user could proactively expend stamina to manually disperse their elemental body, granting them vastly superior evasive capabilities against Haki-laced attacks.
[Actually, perhaps simply blocking it with my own Armament Haki would be more demoralizing. There's no way a brat's Haki density could possibly surpass mine!]
As Crocodile rapidly debated which method would be the most stylish and humiliating way to crush Yamato and reclaim his lost dignity, the heavy kanabo had already arrived inches from his face.
And it was in that exact, horrifying split-second that Crocodile realized something was catastrophically wrong with his body.
[Haki... wait... how exactly do I use it again?!]
Whether it was the perceptive foresight of Observation Haki or the impenetrable armor of Armament Haki... the abilities he used to wield as naturally as breathing seemed to have completely abandoned him.
It was exactly like sitting in a high-stakes exam, looking at a problem you absolutely knew the teacher had covered, vividly remembering every single detail of the classroom, but completely, utterly forgetting what the actual formula written on the chalkboard looked like.
That momentary, agonizing lapse in muscle memory yielded catastrophic results. Yamato's second strike landed flawlessly, right on the exact same spot.
Once again, Crocodile was violently launched through the air like a ragdoll.
"Uh..." Yamato blinked, lowering her club in absolute disbelief. "He isn't just an idiot... is he actually mentally disabled? Am I bullying a handicapped person right now?"
Yamato was genuinely questioning her own reality. Even the stupidest, most brain-dead beast would try to run away after being hit once. How could anyone possibly stand perfectly still and let themselves get blasted in the face twice in a row?!
"Desert Spada (Desert Greatsword)!!"
WHOOSH!
The golden sand beneath Yamato's feet violently erupted, instantly condensing into a massive, razor-sharp blade of pressurized sand that slashed viciously toward her waist, clearly intending to bifurcate her in half.
On this sea, "face" and reputation were paramount. For Crocodile, the sheer, utter humiliation he had suffered today vastly eclipsed the accumulated embarrassment of his entire thirty-year lifespan.
Losing to Whitebeard? Nobody considered him weak for that; it was universally accepted as an inevitability. After all, Whitebeard was the undisputed "Strongest Pirate in the World." Losing to a living legend was practically a badge of honor.
But if word ever leaked about this fight...
Forget his meticulously crafted "National Hero" persona; the deterrence of his title as a Warlord of the Sea would completely plummet into the abyss!
Crocodile had violently thrown all his previous calculating thoughts out the window. Right now, he solely wanted to butcher these brats to salvage his dignity. Even if his Haki was currently malfunctioning from years of rust, he still possessed the absolute, overwhelming power of his Devil Fruit.
"Phew... that was close... really close..." Yamato gasped, narrowly dodging the lethal blade of sand. Instead of being angry, she actually looked profoundly relieved. "Oh, thank goodness! Since you know how to fight back, I don't have to feel guilty about beating you up anymore!"
Yamato didn't retreat. Instead, she charged forward with explosive momentum. When dealing with a Logia user, creating distance only gave them the perfect opportunity to endlessly bombard you from afar and whittle down your stamina.
This time, Crocodile didn't dare act arrogantly. Those two strikes had landed with devastating, bone-rattling force. The massive, swelling bruise on his temple and the blood leaking from his mouth were agonizing reminders of reality.
However, in his blind fury, Crocodile seemed to have completely forgotten that Yamato had a winged partner.
Just as Crocodile manipulated the sand to fly into the air and gain the high ground, an intense, searing wave of heat suddenly blasted past his ear. Accompanied by the roar of a roaring inferno, a bizarre, demonic blade slashed viciously past his head.
The eerie, purple-hued blade was completely engulfed in incandescent crimson flames. Several strands of Crocodile's slicked-back hair were instantly incinerated into ash as the blade narrowly missed his skull.
The cursed sword, Sandai Kitetsu, which Nereus had brought back years ago, had ultimately become Chloe's personal weapon. The roaring flames swirling around the blade manifested into the shape of a majestic, winged phoenix, diving directly toward Crocodile's face.
"Flame Empress: Scorching Wave!"
"Namuji Hyoga!"
Simultaneously, Yamato exhaled another devastating blast of sub-zero frost from below.
Crocodile's body violently dispersed into a cloud of scattered sand, narrowly dodging the lethal pincer attack. However, the intense, incandescent flames and absolute zero frost violently collided in mid-air, instantaneously generating a massive, localized cloud of dense water vapor.
With a rapid, spinning kick, Chloe manipulated the surrounding moisture, instantly condensing the water vapor into countless, razor-sharp needles of pressurized water that shot directly toward Crocodile's scattered, sandy form.
☆☆☆
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