At the bottom of the crater, the smoke hung heavy and stagnant.
"The warm-up ends here."
Following that low, gutteral declaration, the massive life force within Ace erupted like a dormant volcano finally hitting critical mass.
His dark red trench coat snapped in the sudden, scorching updraft. In an instant, his black shirt was vaporized by the sheer thermal radiation bleeding from his skin. A pillar of crimson-gold fire shot into the sky, illuminating the gloomy highlands with the artificial brilliance of high noon.
Under Zephyr's solemn gaze, Ace's tall, sturdy frame began to undergo a terrifying metamorphosis.
Two massive wings, forged from solid, swirling crimson-gold plasma, burst from his shoulder blades. As they unfurled, the air twisted into heat-mirages. Dense, indestructible feathered scales—each a plate of divine armor—spread across his limbs.
Zoan Type · Tori Tori no Mi · Mythical Model: Vermilion Bird.
The moment the hybrid transformation was complete, the bedrock beneath Ace's feet turned viscous, melting into a pool of dark red magma.
"Exotic flames... and that pressure..." Zephyr clenched his fist, his face etched with an unprecedented gravity. "A Mythical Zoan. No wonder you thought you could trade blows with me."
"This is my era, old man."
Ace didn't waste another breath. He snapped his wings shut and launched.
BOOM!
Leaving only a glassed crater behind, Ace blurred into a streak of crimson lightning.
"DIVINE FIRE: VERMILION BIRD SEAL!"
Ace whipped his right leg downward, a guillotine of fire and Advanced Ryuo carrying enough kinetic energy to split an island. It whistled through the air, aimed squarely at Zephyr's skull.
"Don't get cocky, rookie!" Zephyr roared. He didn't dodge—he couldn't.
He poured the entirety of his remaining life force into his left arm, punching upward to meet the descending meteorite.
"BLACK ARM: SMASH!"
THUD!
Fist and shin locked in mid-air. The collision was a cataclysm.
Pitch-black Haki and crimson-gold fire ground against each other, throwing off sparks of pure destructive energy. Ace's flames, hot enough to melt specialized alloys, frantically gnawed at Zephyr's Haki barrier, while the veteran's "Black Arm" held firm against the mountain-splitting weight of the kick.
The ground collapsed beneath them, and the remaining fortress walls shattered like dry biscuits.
"His strength and speed... they've doubled!" Zephyr gritted his teeth, sweat evaporating before it could even leave his pores. He felt the heat trying to bypass his Haki to char his very bones.
In the stalemate, Zephyr showed the ruthlessness of a man who had survived the Golden Age. He suddenly dipped his shoulder, deflecting the momentum of Ace's leg, and lunged forward with a brutal Iron Mountain Bash into Ace's sternum.
BANG!
Ace was knocked back, the divine scales on his chest shattering. His ribs let out an audible, sickening thud.
But within the next heartbeat, a cluster of Nirvana Fire flared. The bones knitted, the scales regrew, and the organs stabilized. He was healed in less than a second.
"Unreasonable..." Zephyr panted, his lungs burning.
"The Haki of the old era is profound," Ace said, landing softly on the magma-slicked stone. "But time is a thief, Zephyr. You've lost an arm, and your stamina is a fading candle. How many more 'Smashes' do you have in you?"
"As long as I draw breath, I will not let your kind run wild!"
Zephyr ignited a final Soru, shooting forward. He knew he couldn't win a war of attrition against a Mythical Zoan. His only path to victory was a single, concentrated point of total destruction.
"BLACK ARM: FATAL STRIKE!"
Zephyr's left arm swelled, the obsidian Haki taking on a faint, blood-red luster. He poured every decade of combat experience, every ounce of his "Justice," into this one punch.
Facing this desperate, all-or-nothing gambit, Ace didn't move. His eyes were as calm as a deep well.
His internal vitality roared. The Divine Fire didn't erupt; it imploded, weaving into his fist with a layer of jet-black Ryuo. If Zephyr brought the peak of Hardening, Ace would bring the peak of Internal Destruction.
"DIVINE FIRE: STAR CRUSHER!"
The two figures met in the center of the ravaged fortress.
RUMBLE!
It was as if the Iron Country itself had suffered a cardiac arrest. A blinding white light swallowed the plateau, followed by a massive mushroom cloud of soot and fire. A category-12 shockwave ground everything within a kilometer—rubble, tanks, and steel—into fine powder.
At the epicenter, Zephyr's eyes were wide with disbelief.
His "Black Arm" defense—a legend of the sea—had been pierced. The concentrated Ryuo, laced with the Star Crusher's heat, bypassed his surface armor and tore through his radius and ulna from the inside out.
CRACK.
A bone-chilling snap echoed. Zephyr's arm bent at a grotesque, unnatural angle. The indestructible black Haki shattered like a fallen mirror.
Zephyr spat a fountain of blood, his massive body flying backward like a kite with a broken string. He tumbled across the rock for fifty meters before slamming into a reinforced steel bunker. The structure collapsed with a roar, burying the legend beneath tons of twisted metal.
The dust settled.
Ace stood alone, the flames on his knuckles flickering out. He was bare-chested, his body a map of bruises and scorched scales, but they were already fading. He exhaled a long, searing breath of white steam as his wings retracted into his back.
He looked at the pile of rubble. For a long minute, there was no movement.
The veteran who had trained an entire generation of Marines had finally fallen to the "East Blue Madman."
"A worthy opponent," Ace murmured.
In that life-and-death clash, his mastery over Internal Destruction had finally solidified. He wasn't just a fruit-user anymore; he was a master of the New World's highest arts.
Ace turned his head toward the far side of the highlands, where the sounds of Sabo's flames and the roar of Marine artillery still raged.
He took a steady step toward the next battle.
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