The wind screamed like it wanted to tear the sky open.
Yellow sand roared upward.
Flying swords tore through the air.
Beneath the blood-red sky, Crocodile's sandstorm and Kairos' endless blades collided again and again.
Crocodile no longer gathered his sand into one great wave. Instead, he scattered it into countless streams, each grain driven by his will, each one carrying enough force to pierce steel.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Sparks burst across the crimson world.
Some projected blades snapped apart, dissolving into glittering fragments of magical energy before they could fall.
But Crocodile's sand fared no better.
Every blade it touched shredded the grains apart, grinding them into nothing.
It was a war of attrition.
Sand against steel.
Desert against sword.
The royal army watched from the edge of the battlefield, sweat sliding down their faces despite the dry air.
"Was this place… created by Kairos?" Cobra murmured, staring at the crimson sky.
Chaka crouched and scooped up a handful of sand.
The grains felt real.
Too real.
But his nose told him the truth.
"This isn't Alabasta," he said hoarsely.
The soldiers around him went pale.
They had thought this was an illusion.
Now they understood.
They had been dragged somewhere else entirely.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The battle gave them no time to recover.
Swords fell like rain.
Sand rose like a storm.
There was almost nowhere safe to stand.
After several brutal exchanges, the two forces finally shattered together, scattering into the air like broken starlight and drifting dust.
Under the turning golden gears, Crocodile stood atop a twisting column of sand.
His breathing had grown heavy.
In those short ten seconds, he had clashed with Kairos more than a hundred times.
Every exchange had been dangerous.
Every mistake could have cost him blood.
Kairos, however, remained calm.
His black trench coat fluttered behind him, and his dark hair lifted in the violent wind.
Then he raised his right hand again.
The magical circuits across his arm glowed brighter.
More lights appeared around him.
More weapons began to form.
Crocodile's eyes narrowed.
Kairos still wasn't exhausted.
Not even close.
"He's suppressing Crocodile…"
Igaram, still being bandaged by the medics, stared at the two figures beneath the crimson sky.
He had enough battle experience to see it.
Kairos had the upper hand.
Then—
a roar shook the world.
No.
It wasn't a beast.
It was the wind.
Crocodile's sand erupted, spinning faster and faster until it became a towering tornado that clawed toward the blood-red sky.
The broken blades scattered across the desert dried, cracked, and turned to dust the instant the storm touched them.
The air lost all moisture.
The ground seemed to decay.
Even the crimson sky darkened beneath that dreadful force.
"Be buried."
Crocodile crushed the cigar between his teeth.
In the next instant, the sandstorm surged toward Kairos like a desert god's wrath.
Everything it touched withered.
Everything it touched crumbled.
This was no longer just an attack.
It was a natural disaster.
If unleashed inside Alubarna, it could have reduced half the royal capital to dust.
Screams rang out across the Reality Marble.
Even the soldiers' faces twisted with terror.
And at that moment—
Kairos' eyes sharpened.
The magical circuits on his right arm flared.
The lights around him blazed brighter, their shapes solidifying into weapons.
Not ordinary swords.
Noble Phantasms.
Weapons that had carried legends.
Weapons that had carved their names into history.
Excalibur.
Caladbolg.
Ea.
One after another, they appeared in the sky behind Kairos.
Each radiated a pressure far beyond the projected blades from before.
Crocodile's expression finally changed.
Kairos opened his hand.
Then clenched it.
"Broken Phantasm."
Boom!!
The world exploded.
The Noble Phantasms detonated all at once.
A storm of legendary power tore through the crimson sky and crashed head-on into Crocodile's sandstorm.
For one brief instant—
the blood-red world turned white.
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