The silence following the Witch's demise and the revelation of the treasure box was thick enough to cut with a knife. All eyes were fixed on the simple wooden chest nestled amongst the shattered remains of ice and Ursa. The Seed of Despair. Rocks D. Xebec's legendary power.
Jozu, his diamond form still shimmering, broke the spell. His loyalty to Whitebeard, his desperation to secure the cure for Pops, overrode any lingering shock. "The fruit!" he roared, his voice a gravelly tremor. He lumbered forward, massive diamond fists ready, pushing aside chunks of ice and frozen bear flesh, his eyes locked on the prize.
He was mere feet away, his colossal hand reaching out to grasp the chest.
SHIIIIING!
A sound like the world's sharpest razor slicing through silk cut the air. It was followed by a sickening thud. Jozu, despite his diamond body, cried out, a shocked grunt of pain escaping him as an invisible force slammed into his side. He was thrown backwards like a child's toy, skidding across the debris-strewn ground, leaving a deep gouge in the earth. A thin, almost imperceptible line, darker than shadow, was now etched across his diamond torso – a testament to a cut that had, impossibly, found purchase.
From the shadowed edge of the clearing, where the chaos hadn't quite reached, a figure emerged, walking with a calm, almost regal gait. Tall, clad in dark, ornate clothing, with a wide-brimmed hat shadowing his piercing, hawk-like eyes. A massive, cross-shaped black sword was strapped to his back.
Dracule "Hawkeye" Mihawk. Rival of Shanks for the Title of the World's Strongest Swordsman.
He didn't spare a glance for the fallen Jozu or the stunned onlookers. His gaze was fixed solely on the wooden chest. With an effortless grace that belied the deadly power he wielded, he bent down and picked it up.
The silence was now charged with a new, terrifying tension.
Mihawk examined the simple box for a moment, then, with a flick of his wrist, the lid sprang open. Inside, nestled on a bed of faded velvet, was a Devil Fruit. It was a deep, disturbing purple, almost black, shaped like a gnarled, oversized heart, with swirling patterns that seemed to writhe and pulse with a faint, sickly green luminescence .
"So, this is it," Mihawk murmured, his voice devoid of emotion, yet carrying an undeniable weight. "The treasure the world's Strongest is after."
That was the spark.
"MIHAWK!" Doflamingo was the first to react, his initial awe replaced by avaricious fury. "Fufufu! You think you can just waltz in and claim the grand prize, swordsman?!" Strings, sharper than any blade, erupted from his fingertips, lashing towards Mihawk and the fruit. "Give that to me!"
"Arara, now this is a free-for-all," Kuzan sighed, but his eyes were sharp. He wasn't about to let a pirates, a renegade Warlord, or the two most powerful Swordsman walk away with such a dangerous weapon. "Ice Time: Pheasant Beak!" A massive bird of ice, sharp and predatory, launched from his hand towards Mihawk.
Crocodile moved simultaneously, a vortex of sand erupting around him. "That fruit belongs to no one but the strongest!" He formed a "Desert Espada," aiming to disarm Mihawk with a swift, sand-blasting strike.
Mihawk didn't even flinch. With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, Yoru, not yet black blade, was in his hand. It moved in a blur, deflecting Doflamingo's strings with sparks of dark energy, shattering Kuzan's ice pheasant with a resonant clang, and cleaving Crocodile's sand blade in two, the dispersed grit hissing past him.
"Insolent fools," Mihawk stated, his voice flat. "This is beyond your petty squabbles.
"He's not wrong about that last part, yoi!" Marco yelled, diving into the fray, his blue flames blazing. "But it's for Pops!" He launched a fiery kick aimed at Mihawk's sword arm, trying to force him to drop the chest. Benn Beckman and Yasopp, moving with the seamless coordination of the Red Hair Pirates, opened fire, their Haki-infused bullets aimed not to kill Mihawk, but to distract and create openings.
Shanks, a grim smile on his face, met Mihawk's gaze. "Been a while, Mihawk. Didn't expect you to crash this particular party." He didn't draw Gryphon immediately, but the pressure emanating from him intensified.
The fight for the Fruit became a chaotic, swirling vortex of power. The Devil Fruit, still clutched in Mihawk's hand.
Mihawk, a whirlwind of black and silver, parried Marco's kick with Yoru, the impact sending shockwaves through the air. He then spun, deflecting Beckman's bullets with casual ease, one of them ricocheting and nearly hitting Doflamingo, who shrieked in mock outrage.
"Hey! Watch where you're pointing those things, Red-Hair's mutt!" Doflamingo yelled, launching a "Parasite" string towards the chest in Mihawk's hand, trying to snatch it away.
Mihawk, in a move of impossible agility, tossed the chest high into the air just as Doflamingo's string was about to connect. He then engaged Marco, their clash of sword and fiery talon a dazzling display.
The chest arced through the sky. Crocodile, with a roar of "Sables!" sent a tendril of sand snaking upwards to grab it.
But Kuzan was faster. "Ice Block: Capsule!" He encased the falling chest in a sphere of ice mid-air.
Before the ice sphere could fall, Marco, disengaging from Mihawk, shot upwards, phoenix talons crackling. "Mine, yoi!" He shattered the ice capsule with a fiery strike, grabbing the chest.
"Not so fast, bird-brain!" Doflamingo cackled, his strings already wrapping around Marco's ankle, yanking him downwards. The chest flew from Marco's grasp.
It tumbled towards the ground, where Jozu, groaning but already pushing himself up, his diamond form slightly cracked but still formidable, made a desperate lunge.
But Shanks was there. With a speed that belied his relaxed posture moments before, he snatched the chest out of the air, inches from Jozu's fingers.
"Shanks!" Jozu bellowed, frustrated.
"Sorry, Jozu," Shanks said, a wry smile on his face. "But we had a deal, remember?" He held the chest aloft. "And this seems like a good bargaining chip."
Mihawk, who had momentarily paused his assault, his hawk-like eyes following the fruit, now focused on Shanks. A dangerous glint entered his gaze. "So, you intend to play keeper, Red-Hair?"
The air crackled. The brief lull as Shanks held the Seed of Despair aloft was shattered as Mihawk's stoic expression hardened into something akin to predatory focus. "A bargaining chip, Red-Hair?" Mihawk's voice was a low growl. "Or merely delaying the inevitable?" Yoru hummed, a thirst for a worthy opponent palpable.
Shanks' smile didn't waver, but his one good eye glinted with anticipation. "Perhaps a bit of both, Mihawk. It's been too long since we properly danced."
The two greatest of their respective domains – Shanks of the Sea, Mihawk of the Sword – exploded into motion. Gryphon met Yoru. The clash wasn't a mere clang of steel; it was a sonic boom, a shockwave of pure Haki that ripped through the clearing. The ground beneath them buckled. Trees on the periphery, those that hadn't been frozen or animated, were uprooted by the sheer force. Conqueror's Haki, raw and untamed from Shanks, met Mihawk's own incredibly refined, Conqueror's Haki, creating a vortex of invisible, crushing pressure.
The treasure box, still in Shanks' hand, was momentarily forgotten as the two titans locked blades, sparks of black and crimson lightning erupting around them.
Marco and the Red Hair pirates engaged the others. Marco clashed with Doflamingo, their aerial battle a dizzying display of fire and strings. Jozu, despite his injury, charged Crocodile, their earth-shattering blows shaking the island. Kuzan, ever the opportunist, tried to pick his moment, looking for an opening to snatch the fruit amidst the chaos.
"Kishishishishi! While the big dogs are playing, the clever fox steals the prize!"
From the shadows, where he'd been lurking and biding his time, Gecko Moria made his move. His own shadow, Doppelganger, stretched and slithered through the maelstrom of clashing Haki, unseen by most. While Shanks and Mihawk were locked in their monumental struggle, Doppelganger, with surprising speed and dexterity for its bulky form, snatched the wooden chest from Shanks' momentarily loosened grip!
"The fruit is mine!" Moria cackled, holding the chest aloft, his form partially obscured by his Brick Bats who swarmed to protect him.
But his triumph was short-lived. Before anyone could react to this new development, a profound, earth-shattering tremor ran through Ikki Island, far greater than anything felt before. It wasn't just the ground; the very air seemed to vibrate with an immense, oppressive power.
Every combatant, from Shanks and Mihawk to the lowliest Marine, froze. Their senses, honed by countless battles, screamed a warning.
They all looked up.
Descending from the bruised, roiling sky, like a vengeful god, was Edward Newgate. Whitebeard.
He wasn't on the Moby Dick. He was in the sky, seemingly standing on nothing, his colossal bisento, Murakumogiri, held ready. His eyes blazed with an indomitable fire, and his massive frame radiated an aura of terrifying, focused power. Veins of pure, crackling black lightning – Conqueror's Haki coating – snaked up his arms and around the shaft of his legendary glaive.
"POPS?!" Marco cried out, his voice a mixture of disbelief, joy, and profound worry.
Shanks and Mihawk, who had been locked in a battle that could reshape landscapes, slowly disengaged, their gazes, along with everyone else's, fixed on the descending Emperor.
Doflamingo's manic grin vanished, replaced by a look of utter shock. "Whitebeard?! Here?! But he was…!"
Crocodile's cigar fell from his lips. "Impossible… He shouldn't have this much strength left…"
Kuzan's eyes widened behind his shades. "Arara… this is… unexpected. And incredibly problematic."
Gecko Moria, who had been cackling with the fruit in his hand, choked on his laughter, his onion-shaped eyes bulging in terror.
Whitebeard said nothing. His gaze, like molten gold, swept over the battlefield, taking in his sons, his rivals, the Marines, and finally, the trembling Moria holding the Devil Fruit. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
He raised Murakumogiri, the Conqueror's Haki coating flaring so intensely it seemed to drink the light. "GURARARARARA!" His iconic laugh, though strained, was still powerful enough to shake the heavens. "So many pests gathered for my medicine!"
He dropped. Not gracefully, but like a meteor, aimed directly at the center of the chaotic gathering.
Shanks and Mihawk, instincts screaming, reacted simultaneously. They knew, with absolute certainty, that if Whitebeard's Haki-infused blow landed unchecked, it would obliterate not just Moria, but a significant portion of the island and everyone on it.
"He's going to destroy everything!" Marco yelled.
Shanks and Mihawk didn't need the warning. With a shared, unspoken understanding, they both unleashed the full, terrifying might of their own Conqueror's Haki, coating Gryphon and Yoru respectively.
Black lightning erupted from their blades, meeting the descending torrent of Whitebeard's power.
Two against one.
Gryphon and Yoru met Murakumogiri.
KRA-KOOOOOOM!
The impact was beyond sound. It was a physical concussion that slammed into everyone present. The sky split. The ground shattered. A blinding dome of pure, destructive Haki erupted outwards, a tri-colored maelstrom of black, crimson, and obsidian.
Everyone – Marco, Jozu, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Kuzan, Moria, the Red Hair pirates, the remaining Marines – was sent flying, thrown back by the cataclysmic shockwave like leaves in a hurricane. Trees were vaporized. The frozen Ursas, already shattered, were pulverized into ice dust.
Gecko Moria, caught closest to the epicenter of the Haki clash, screamed as the force tore through him. The wooden chest containing the Seed of Despair was ripped from his grasp, flung high into the air by the concussive blast, tumbling end over end like a forgotten toy amidst the cosmic devastation.
The island of Ikki groaned, threatening to tear itself apart under the weight of three of the world's most powerful Haki users clashing with calamitous intent.