Chapter 122: The Clash of Yellow and Purple
"How scary."
It was Kizaru's usual line.
No matter the enemy, no matter the battlefield, he always said it in that same lazy, drawn-out tone, as if nothing in the world could truly surprise him.
This time, however, it was not mere mockery.
He had felt danger in that strike.
Kizaru was a Glint-Glint Fruit user. His body could become light itself, rendering ordinary physical attacks meaningless. But Issho's blade had cut through his elemental body. Had Kizaru reacted even a heartbeat slower, the sword would have torn straight into his chest.
That meant the attack had been coated in Armament Haki.
And not a shallow layer, either.
To cut through light, the man's Haki was no decoration.
Kizaru's expression remained loose and unreadable, but behind those orange lenses, his gaze sharpened.
Carelessness would be expensive.
If this man possessed Armament Haki, then what about Observation Haki?
Kizaru shifted a few steps to the side, testing him.
Issho's head turned with him.
His body followed, facing Kizaru directly despite those sightless eyes.
Kizaru's mouth tilted.
As expected.
Observation Haki, too.
No wonder the sneak attack had failed.
What a troublesome opponent.
Kizaru's gaze slid toward DeWitt.
DeWitt, thrown clear by the earlier collision, had barely managed to escape the gravity pinning down the other Marines. His men were still trapped under the lingering pressure, unable to rise.
"What did this man do?" Kizaru asked.
DeWitt's answer was short and grim.
"He killed a Celestial Dragon."
For the briefest instant, Kizaru's silence deepened.
Then he sighed.
So that was how it was.
This would not end peacefully.
If it were anything else, perhaps he could have dragged his feet, complained about the trouble, and let matters cool down. But the murder of a Celestial Dragon was no small incident. The World Government would not tolerate it. The Marines had no room to look away.
Kizaru lifted one hand.
Golden light gathered in his palm, scattering into brilliant particles before condensing into the shape of a sword.
"Ama no Murakumo Sword."
A blade of pure light formed in his grasp.
Though Issho could not see in the ordinary sense, his face turned solemn as his Observation Haki settled on the weapon in Kizaru's hand.
The air tightened.
Neither man moved for a breath.
Yet the pressure between them rose and rose, until even the Marines at the edge of the battlefield felt as if the world had sunk into the silence before a storm.
Issho could no longer spare attention for the other Marines.
The moment the pressure on them loosened, DeWitt seized the opening and shouted, "Retreat!"
The Marines scrambled to their feet and ran.
They did not even stop to collect their weapons.
They were proud soldiers, but pride was not stupidity. They had just been crushed without resistance. If they remained there, they would not help Kizaru—they would only become obstacles.
The matter had already passed beyond them.
It belonged to an Admiral now.
Before they could get far, the battlefield erupted.
Yellow and purple collided in the center.
Boom!
The shockwave blasted outward, hurling several Marines who had not escaped far enough off their feet. Dust surged like a wave, and the cracked ground split open beneath the force.
Kizaru's sword of light met Issho's iron blade.
Clang!
The sound was bright and harsh, like metal struck on a forge.
Then came another.
And another.
Clang, clang, clang, clang!
Their swords moved too quickly for ordinary eyes to follow. Kizaru's light blade carried the terrifying speed of the Glint-Glint Fruit. Issho's sword, however, carried something even heavier than steel.
Gravity.
With each swing, invisible weight layered over the blade, turning every slash into a falling mountain.
In raw physical strength, Kizaru was slightly inferior.
Issho's gravity gave him the advantage in power.
But Kizaru's control over his Devil Fruit was exquisite. Light bent, scattered, reformed, and struck from impossible angles, making up for the difference with speed and unpredictability.
For a time, neither side gained the upper hand.
Far away, the retreating Marines stared in disbelief.
Even from hundreds of meters away, the wind from the battle slapped against their faces. Cracks continued racing through the ground. Chunks of earth rose and collapsed. The air itself seemed to scream under the pressure of their clash.
"How terrifying…" DeWitt's assistant murmured, unconsciously borrowing the Admiral's words. "Who is that man?"
DeWitt's expression was grave.
He searched his memory.
Newspapers.
Bounty posters.
Marine reports.
Confidential files.
Nothing.
"I don't know," he said. "I've never heard of him. There's no record of him in any report I've seen. A man with this kind of strength should have shaken the world long ago."
But there was nothing.
No name.
No legend.
No wanted poster.
It was as though the man had stepped out of nowhere.
The assistant swallowed. "Then… do you think Admiral Kizaru can win?"
That was the question every Marine nearby wanted to ask.
DeWitt watched the two monstrous figures collide again, yellow light and purple gravity tearing through the battlefield.
Could Kizaru win?
He did not know.
But a commander could not say that in front of his men.
"Admiral Kizaru represents the justice of the Marines," DeWitt said. "He will win."
The battle raged on.
The ground shattered beneath them, breaking apart like thin paper. Each exchange carved new wounds into Island 1. Sparks of gold and ripples of purple surged upward, twisting together beneath the sky.
Yellow flash.
Purple gravity.
Two forces that should never have met now tore at each other in the heart of Sabaody.
Kizaru caught an opening.
His light sword swept upward with sudden force.
Issho reacted at once, gripping his cane-sword with both hands and blocking the blow head-on.
The impact lifted dust from the ground.
Kizaru used the rebound to rise into the air.
In the next instant, he flung the Ama no Murakumo Sword downward.
The sword of light burst apart mid-flight, turning into countless beams that rained toward Issho.
Issho's brow tightened.
His blade moved.
One slash.
Two.
Three.
He cut through the beams as they fell, each severed ray scattering into golden fragments around him.
But Kizaru was already above him.
The Admiral crossed his arms.
Photons gathered around his body, dazzling enough to bleach the world white.
Then the sky filled with light.
"Yasakani Sacred Jewel."
Thousands of golden shots rained down.
Issho sheathed his sword.
The motion was calm.
Then he drew it again.
Purple force erupted from him in a vast semicircle, nearly a hundred meters wide, forming a gravity shield around his body.
The golden barrage struck the shield.
Light burst and scattered across it like rain hitting a lake, rippling outward in dazzling halos. A few beams pierced through, but only for several meters before they twisted, slowed, and dissolved under the warped gravity.
Kizaru's figure vanished from above.
"Yata Mirror."
A mirror of light formed behind Issho.
Kizaru turned into a beam and shot toward it, attempting to pass through the gravity field in an instant.
But light did not travel straight within Issho's domain.
Under the distortion of gravity, Kizaru's path bent.
The delay was tiny.
Against Issho, it was enough.
Issho turned and swung.
Kizaru's leg flashed out at the same moment, releasing a compressed wave of light from his foot.
Blade met light.
Issho's sword cut through the attack, splitting it apart.
The severed beam shot diagonally away, tearing across a nearby island.
A golden scar ripped through the land.
A heartbeat later, the beam detonated along its path.
Buildings, trees, and ground vanished in a line of destruction. The island was blasted apart, split open as if a giant had carved through it with a burning blade.
Kizaru and Issho separated once more.
They returned to their original standoff, facing each other across the devastated ground.
If not for the collapsed earth around them, the smoke curling from distant ruins, and the island still burning from Kizaru's scattered light, one might have thought the battle had never begun at all.
.....
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