"Hmph."
Zoro slowly straightened his body again. His chest rose and fell sharply a few times before he forcibly steadied his breathing.
With a sharp flick of his right hand, he pulled Enma from the ground. The black Ryuo clinging to the blade had yet to fully dissipate, flickering unevenly along its edge.
At the same time, his left hand moved to his waist—
With a low, eerie hum, the cursed blade Sandai Kitetsu slid into his grip.
With both swords in hand, Zoro's presence changed instantly.
The shock and frustration from moments ago were crushed down—replaced by something sharper. More refined.
More resolute.
He bent slightly at the waist, gripping the two blades in forward and reverse holds, assuming the most explosive opening stance of his Two-Sword Style.
His gaze locked onto Gern.
"Hey… Fleet Admiral," Zoro's voice was low, carrying a stubborn, unyielding edge. "You're still judging my swords?"
"…What you said… yeah, there's some truth to it."
"But—"
Before he could finish—
His aura erupted violently!
"I'm not the same man I was before!"
"Two-Sword Style—Second Slash—"
Just as he was about to call out the name of his technique—
"—Tch."
Gern clicked his tongue, clearly irritated. The sound wasn't loud.
He didn't even bother to properly look at Zoro—only tilting his head slightly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
His tone was calm. Casual.
As if stating something utterly obvious.
"If you were sent flying… from here…"
He lifted a hand, pointing lazily at the courtyard beneath their feet, then traced a vague line toward the distant horizon where the sea faintly shimmered.
"…all the way out there…"
Gern paused.
Then his gaze returned, finally meeting Zoro's eyes as he slowly finished his sentence—
"…you would actually die, you know."
"..."
One sentence.
That was all it took.
Zoro's movement… stopped dead.
The sword intent that had been on the verge of erupting was strangled at its source—frozen in place.
His pupils widened slightly.
And in his mind—
An image surfaced, unbidden.
A massive, eerie ship shrouded in thick fog.
That man…
An unstoppable kick.
His own body sent flying like a broken kite, the world spinning violently around him—
And then—
The cold, salty sea swallowing everything.
That had been the first time.
And the only time.
He had come that close to death.
A defeat so absolute.
So utterly powerless.
Even now—
Even after everything he had become.
Even after wounding Kaido… even after defeating King—
That memory remained.
A cold brand, etched into his very instincts.
And at the mere mention of it—
His body reacted.
A moment of stiffness.
A flicker of hesitation.
Gern, however, seemed utterly uninterested in Zoro's brief pause—or the shadow that had passed through his eyes.
Seeing that Zoro hadn't immediately resumed his attack, he simply lost interest.
He turned around.
Just like that.
Exposing his completely unguarded back to the Straw Hat swordsman.
His attention shifted instead to King, who still stood frozen like a statue behind him.
"Hey, 'Wildfire,'" Gern said, his tone unreadable. "Kaido… is he really dead?"
The question made King's body tremble ever so slightly.
His gaze shifted away from Zoro, landing on Gern's calm face.
Then, slowly, he turned his head aside—
Lowering his eyes, avoiding that gaze.
Silence.
Two… three seconds passed.
Before a hoarse, dry voice forced its way out of his throat.
"I can't feel Kaido-san's Haki anymore."
There was suppression in his voice.
Confusion.
And the final trace of despair he refused to acknowledge.
Gern listened without any visible surprise.
He simply let out a soft, drawn-out "Oh…"
"I see…" he murmured, almost to himself, his gaze drifting upward toward the sky above the courtyard.
"I… can't feel it either."
His voice was light—almost carried away by the wind.
That sentence wasn't just confirmation of an enemy's fate.
There was something else within it—
A faint recognition.
A quiet regret.
The kind that only existed between top-tier warriors.
A subtle resonance… between rivals.
But—
That fleeting, almost wistful atmosphere—
Was shattered in an instant by a sudden, explosive roar!
"Raimei Hakke!!!"
A figure, wrapped in dark-red lightning-like Haki, spun as it leapt down from the top of the towering keep behind the courtyard!
So fast it left afterimages in the air!
A massive kanabo—crackling with Haki—tore through the air, releasing a terrifying sonic boom as it came crashing down toward Gern's head!
The timing—
Perfectly calculated.
Gern's back was turned.
His attention seemingly elsewhere.
A flawless ambush.
The same technique name—
But an entirely different level of pressure.
And yet—
Faced with this sudden, overwhelming attack—
Gern didn't even turn his head.
He simply raised his right arm—casually.
It was coated in jet-black Armament Haki.
And lifted it backward.
"CLANG—!!!!!!"
Another thunderous impact exploded across the courtyard!
The kanabo struck Gern's arm head-on!
A violent shockwave burst outward in a ring, shattering large sections of the stone courtyard as dust filled the air!
Gern—
Did not move.
Not even an inch.
Instead—
The attacker, Yamato, felt as if her weapon had slammed into an immovable iron mountain that had stood since ancient times!
The recoil surged back through her arms, sending violent tremors through them. Her palms burned with tearing pain!
"!?"
Shock flashed through Yamato's heart—but her combat instincts were razor-sharp.
A failed strike meant no hesitation.
Using the recoil, she twisted her waist, immediately pulling back her strength. Her feet pushed off Gern's arm—
And she flipped backward like a startled rabbit, landing several meters away in a guarded stance.
Only then—
Did Gern actually look at her.
A cascade of gradient hair—white at the crown, fading into blue-green at the tips—caught the sunlight, shimmering with a strange brilliance. It was tied into a clean ponytail.
A pair of striking red oni horns adorned her head, golden earrings swaying slightly at her ears.
Her figure was tall and well-toned, clad in a sleeveless white kimono decorated with blue patterns and two diamond-shaped markings at the chest.
A thick shimenawa rope was tied around her waist. Below, a red hakama allowed for free movement, her bare feet resting in wooden sandals with red straps.
And on that face—equal parts heroic and beautiful—
There was no frustration from the failed ambush.
Instead—
It was filled with excitement.
Curiosity.
Her eyes were wide, fixed firmly on Gern.
"Amazing!!!" Yamato couldn't help but shout, her voice brimming with almost childlike amazement.
"Who are you?! To block my Raimei Hakke like that?!"
Nearby, Zoro slowly exhaled a breath, fully shaking off the hesitation from earlier.
He still held both swords, maintaining his battle stance—
But the sudden appearance of Yamato eased the tension in his nerves ever so slightly.
Hearing her question, he spoke in a low voice:
"Fleet Admiral of the Marines… 'Heavenquake'… Gern Reginald Sigmar."
"Gern… Reginald… Sigmar…"
Yamato repeated the name under her breath.
Her expression shifted instantly—from curiosity…
To realization.
And then—
To blazing excitement.
She had read Oden's journal.
She knew.
That during the journey when Kozuki Oden sailed with Whitebeard—during the time he rose to fame across the New World as the legendary "Samurai"—
There had been a crushing defeat.
A humiliating loss.
And the man who had defeated Oden—
The one who forced that free-spirited, unyielding samurai to acknowledge the gap between them…
To remember it for the rest of his life—
Was a Marine named—
Gern Reginald Sigmar.
"It's you!!!" Yamato's eyes practically shone with light. "The Marine from Oden's journal! The one who defeated Oden!!!"
Gern casually brushed his sleeve, as if dusting off nonexistent dirt.
His gaze swept over Yamato—
Pausing briefly on the red horns atop her head—
Before settling on her excited expression.
"Oh?"
One of his brows lifted slightly. He seemed faintly surprised that she knew of that past.
But soon enough, his calm expression returned.
"Looks like Kaido…" Gern said lightly,
"…ended up with a rather interesting 'son.'"