CLANG!
The katana and the alloy long staff collided with a violent, metallic shriek, spraying a fountain of sparks across the soot-stained plateau.
On this flank of the battlefield, the duel between Sabo and Vice Admiral Momonga had reached a white-hot fever pitch. The ground around them had been pulverized into fine powder by a mixture of razor-sharp sword intent and swirling orange flames. No ordinary soldier, Marine or rebel, dared to step within fifty yards of their lethal dance.
BOOM!
Sabo swept his left hand outward, sending a rolling wave of orange-red fire across the dirt to cut off Momonga's retreat.
"Too naive, pirate!"
Momonga's voice was like cold steel. His legs blurred in a high-frequency vibration against the rock. Six Powers: Soru!
He vanished, reappearing as a flickering afterimage that bypassed the flames entirely. In a heartbeat, he was in Sabo's blind spot. His katana, coated in jet-black Busoshoku Haki, whistled through the air, aimed directly at the base of Sabo's skull.
Sabo's pupils contracted. His Kenbunshoku Haki caught the displacement of air a millisecond before the strike. He ducked, the blade shearing through the top of his hat and taking a few blonde strands with it.
The instant the blade passed, Sabo torqued his waist, whipping the alloy staff back toward Momonga's ribs like a striking cobra.
"TEKKAI (IRON BODY)!"
Momonga didn't flinch. His muscles turned to tempered pig iron. The staff struck his side with a dull thud, as if hitting a structural steel beam. Not only was the Vice Admiral unmoved, but the vibratory recoil sent a numbing shock through Sabo's wrists.
The combination of the Six Powers and Haki is a fortress, Sabo thought, using the recoil to vault backward and reset his distance. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath.
This was his first true test against a world-class swordsman since consuming the Mera Mera no Mi. Momonga's movement was erratic and predatory, and that Haki-clad blade could slice through his elemental form as if he were mere flesh and blood. A half-second delay would have cost him his arm.
"You have talent," Momonga said, gripping his hilt with both hands. His blade pointed diagonally at the earth, his eyes as sharp as a hunting hawk's. "But if you think you can challenge a Vice Admiral of Headquarters relying solely on a Logia fruit you haven't even digested yet... you are a century too early!"
Momonga lunged, his sword cutting a vertical arc.
"HALF-MOON: FLYING PAVILION!"
A massive, crescent-shaped wave of dark blue sword energy, ten meters wide, tore through the earth. It cleaved abandoned tanks and boulders in its path, hurtling toward Sabo with the momentum of a falling skyscraper.
Facing the unavoidable, Sabo slammed his staff into the soil and stood his ground. He raised his hands, index and middle fingers pressed together, his pinky and ring fingers curled into a predatory grip. Obsidian Haki flooded his forearms, and orange-red flames spiraled around his palms.
"FLAME DRAGON: TWIN JAWS!"
Sabo lunged forward, meeting the massive energy wave head-on. His hands, looking like the spectral claws of a dragon, clamped onto the leading edge of the slash.
CRACK!
A harrowing tearing sound filled the air. Sabo's boots plowed through the rock, carving scorched ruts as he was pushed back five meters. His muscles bulged, veins popping on his forehead, until with a guttural roar, he wrenched his hands apart—shattering the massive sword energy into a thousand sparkling blue fragments!
"You crushed a Flying Slash with your bare hands?"
A flicker of genuine shock crossed Momonga's face, but he was a veteran. Using the light show as cover, he used Soru to close the gap instantly.
"DIE!"
The katana was raised high, the Haki on the edge concentrated to such a density that the air felt heavy and sluggish.
In this moment on the precipice of death, Sabo's mind achieved a state of crystalline clarity. Ace's words from their training session on the Eclipse flashed through his consciousness:
"Don't let the Haki stay rigid on your skin. Don't think of it as armor. Think of it as a current. Guide it outward. Let it flow."
Flow...
Sabo stared at the descending black steel. He stopped trying to harden his skin to resist the impact. Instead, he pushed the energy within his soul outward, mimicking the way he projected his flames.
"DRAGON HOOK CLAW: FLOWING FLAME!"
Sabo's right hand shot up to meet the blade.
In the micro-second before his fingers touched the steel, Sabo felt the Haki covering his hand "overflow." A sliver of invisible energy extended beyond his fingertips, colliding with Momonga's blade a fraction of an inch before physical contact.
CLANG!
The sound was different this time—sharper, more resonant. Momonga's eyes widened. He felt his "sure-kill" strike hit an invisible, resilient cushion of air that was simultaneously slippery and immovable. The force of his blade was knocked half an inch off its intended path.
That half-inch was everything. Sabo's dragon claw bypassed the sharp edge and locked directly onto the crossguard of the katana!
"What?!"
Momonga tried to wrench his blade free, but it was as if it had been welded to a mountain.
"Caught you, Vice Admiral."
Sabo looked up, his blue eyes burning with a fierce, predatory light. He didn't waste the opening. His left hand balled into a fist, orange flames compressing into a white-hot point of thermal intensity.
"FIRE FIST (HIKEN)!"
A point-blank detonation!
The pillar of fire roared like an angry sun, tearing through Momonga's defenses. Even with Tekkai and his own Haki, the Vice Admiral was launched backward, vomiting blood as the internal concussive force scrambled his organs.
BANG!
Momonga's body skipped across the highland like a stone, slamming into a pile of wreckage. His famous sword flew from his grip, thudding into the scorched soil fifty yards away.
The flames died down. Sabo stood alone, gasping for oxygen. His fine blue coat was tattered, his arms were a mess of shallow cuts and burns, and his stamina was nearly bottomed out. He didn't look at the unconscious Vice Admiral. He looked at his own right hand.
That feeling...
The Haki had briefly extended. It had broken through the "container" of his body and become a living weapon. But as he tried to summon it again, it remained rigid on his skin.
"A flash of inspiration at the gates of death, was it?"
Sabo clenched his fist, his expression one of determination rather than disappointment. He had felt the "flow." He had cracked the window. He knew that with enough high-stakes battles, he would master this "Ryuo" before they ever stepped foot on the Red Line.
"Still... that was a hell of a fight."
Sabo exhaled, calming his racing heart. He pulled his staff from the dirt and looked toward the center of the battlefield. The smoke was clearing.
When he saw Ace standing over the massive crater—and the legendary Zephyr buried in the ruins—a proud, weary smile spread across Sabo's face.
The Eclipse Pirates had officially collided with the Old Era. And the Old Era had blinked first.
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