"Hmph… Blinded by arrogance, you can't even see the vast gulf in power between us. What a waste of talent. Against me... you're completely outmatched!" With a cold snort, Chris T. Aeridar let out a thunderous roar and charged forward as well.
The two were less than thirty meters apart—barely a blink—and they clashed.
"Keh keh keh… Consider this my thanks for enlightening me—now die!" Broo let out a crazed screech as he raised his massive spiked club high overhead and brought it crashing down toward Aeridar.
Forged entirely from solid steel, the weapon weighed at least a hundred pounds. It ripped through the air with a howl, descending with devastating force straight toward Aeridar's head, as if it intended to pulp it into mush.
Aeridar could clearly sense the terrifying power behind the blow. The club's numerous steel spikes would shred him in an instant if he tried to block it barehanded—and without Armament Haki or a weapon, there was no way he could take it head-on.
If only I knew Tekkai, he thought. But for now… I have to evade.
"Soru!"
With a flick of his foot, Aeridar vanished from sight.
BOOM—!
The spiked club smashed into the wooden deck, missing its target. The impact struck with such brutal force that it drove a crater into the nearly 30-centimeter-thick ironwood boards, cracks radiating outward. The blow even revealed the layer below the deck.
Impressive brute strength, Aeridar mused.
He reappeared ten meters away, balanced atop the starboard railing. In one fluid motion, he raised his right leg and launched a kick into the air. It was fast—faster than the eye could follow—and as he struck, the muscles in his leg contracted sharply, unleashing a burst of kinetic force.
"What the—?!" Broo spun around in alarm—just in time to see a blue-white crescent slash through the air toward him.
"Rokuougan—no… that's... Rankyaku!"
Indeed. It was one of the Six Powers: the foot technique known as Rankyaku—a vacuum blade kick, not just raw impact. It wasn't meant to merely hurt—it could cleave through enemies like a sword.
SSSHHH—
The air blade carved through the deck, slicing a deep, two-to-three-meter rift into the timber as if it were paper.
Broo narrowly rolled aside, cold sweat pouring down his face. He had let go of his heavy club just in time, executing a desperate tumble to dodge the deadly arc of the Rankyaku.
"Heh heh heh… Just barely dodged it, huh?" Aeridar sneered, twisted smile on his face, eyes gleaming with disdain.
What the hell was that? For a second, I couldn't sense him at all… Broo staggered to his feet, drenched in sweat and visibly shaken. His Observation Haki had failed him—and he didn't understand why.
"Heh heh heh… You're wondering why you couldn't sense me just now, aren't you?" Aeridar's voice cracked into a maniacal laugh, his face twitching in deranged glee. "Your Observation Haki is too weak. I used mine to disrupt yours in that moment. That's why you didn't sense a thing. Hahahaha… Pathetic!"
"Something's not right with him…" Captain Jaron, watching from the deck of the Gigiriel, frowned as he stared at the deranged Aeridar on the Broo's ship. This wasn't the cheerful, optimistic, and goofy Aeridar he'd welcomed aboard. No, this was someone else—someone darker.
"Aeridar…" Dimitri watched nervously from afar, worry etched across his face.
"This is impossible!" Broo shouted in disbelief, face twisted in fury as he charged again, fists swinging like wrecking balls.
"Moron. Idiot. Fool! You can't beat me—heh heh heh…" Aeridar leapt from the railing, body low to the ground like a prowling predator. He dashed forward in near silence, his movement fluid and predatory, like a panther mid-hunt.
In the East Blue, both men were considered top fighters. But in just a blink, they were face-to-face again.
"Die!" Broo roared, his massive, iron-like fist—nearly the size of a cooking pot—whistling through the air toward Aeridar's head, a surge of pressure trailing behind it.
"Heh heh heh~" Aeridar's twisted grin remained. Without flinching, he clenched his pale fist, muscles surging with restrained force, and launched a punch of his own. A sharp gust of wind erupted from the impact zone, scattering loose objects across the deck.
"Hand Style—Palm Shock Punch!"
On one side: Broo's enormous, black fist. On the other: Aeridar's slender, white-knuckled strike. A clear mismatch in size and mass. The onlookers held their breath…
BOOM.
A heavy, muffled thud echoed.
CRACK—
Followed instantly by the sharp snap of breaking bone.
Before the stunned eyes of every pirate and crew member watching, Broo's towering frame—over 2.2 meters tall—shuddered, then flew backward as if struck by a cannonball. He sailed five or six meters before crashing to the deck with a thunderous crack, the planks beneath him fracturing like glass.
SPLAT— Blood gushed from his mouth, splattering across the wood and dripping down into the lower deck. His right arm twisted at an unnatural angle, bones visibly shattered and blood vessels ruptured—his arm a pulpy, mangled mess.
Aeridar had used his momentum, his body's full weight behind his fist, and then enhanced the strike with the Impact-Impact Fruit's power. The result: a devastating punch that shattered Broo's arm from within and rattled his internal organs.
"Captain!!"
"Captain Broo—!!"
"No way…"
"He can't lose… he can't lose…!"
"It's black magic. That has to be it! He's a Devil Fruit user! A monster!"
"Broo had a 16 million bounty! Am I dreaming?!"
Panic erupted among the crew. Some pirates began to cry. Others went mad, smashing their heads against the walls. Some simply collapsed in shock. But not one dared attack Aeridar.
"Pathetic. Trash without a shred of challenge. Die." Aeridar's bloodlust surged as he looked down at his fallen opponent. Veins bulged across his forehead as a wave of fury boiled up inside him.
He drew back his fist, tightening it until his knuckles whitened. Muscles bulged as power condensed.
"Maximum Ring—Impact Wave!"
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