"Win this fight, and you'll officially be promoted to a full mber of the BloodSworn Guard," Rosinante said calmly.
"Officially beco part of the BloodSworn Guard, huh? And all I have to do is beat this big guy? What a nice surprise!" Enel grinned as he stepped forward, sparks of excitent practically flashing in his eyes.
"What, sending a little brat out here? A reserve mber?" Rozwald sneered coldly. "So that boy Rosinante says he's in a bind, but in truth, he's just chickening out? Sending so runt for to vent my anger on? How disappointing."
Even so, Rozwald's mocking expression twitched slightly. After all, Rosinante wasn't the type to bluff. Could this "reserve" boy have sothing up his sleeve?
Borsalino, watching lazily from the side, thought the sa. Knowing Rosinante, he wouldn't send soone to die without a reason—and he certainly wasn't soone who bowed his head easily.
"So it's just you? This little runt?" growled the massive pirate slave, Bewick.
Standing nearly four ters tall, Bewick was a towering beast of a man. Against him, Enel looked downright scrawny.
"Yeah, big guy, it's ," Enel said casually, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'll be borrowing your head to get promoted, so… thanks in advance."
"No need to thank ," Bewick replied darkly. "Because I'll be borrowing your head—to buy back my freedom."
As his words fell, Bewick's body began to swell and twist grotesquely. His already massive fra grew even larger until he towered over everyone like a five-ter-tall black bear. His fur bristled, muscles bulging with raw, primal strength.
"So your na's the 'Battle Bear,' huh? Guess that wasn't just for show—you really are a big dumb bear," Enel quipped, grinning with no sign of fear.
"You can laugh now, brat. Whether you're from the Grey Nation or the Red Nation, you're just another greenhorn who's never seen the true storms of the New World. No matter how powerful your captain is, you're all just arrogant weaklings playing pirates in Paradise. I'll take your head and earn my freedom—then I'll return to the New World where real n belong!" Bewick's voice bood with rage and longing for freedom.
With a thunderous roar, Bewick unleashed a surge of killing intent so suffocating it was almost tangible.
"That's so real bloodlust," Borsalino comnted lazily, his mouth curving into a smirk that didn't match the words. "No doubt about it—this one's killed plenty of people."
Enel, however, rely tilted his head slightly, whispering to himself, "So this is the kind of aura that only cos from killing, huh?"
For a mont, it looked like he was dazed, lost in thought—like he was actually intimidated by Bewick's aura.
"Die!" Bewick roared, his massive bear paw crashing down toward Enel with earth-shattering force.
Enel didn't move. No reaction at all.
Rozwald's grin widened as he imagined Enel's body splattered into dust beneath that paw—finally, a chance to vent his fury, to show everyone what it ant to defy a Celestial Dragon.
Even Borsalino's eyes narrowed slightly. Could it be that he'd misjudged Rosinante this ti? Enel showed no hint of movent—no sign of evasion, no flicker of resistance in his aura.
Could it be the kid really froze in fear?
…No. Impossible. Rosinante wasn't one to make careless moves.
And sure enough, Rosinante stood still, calm as ever, not a trace of worry on his face. The rest of the BloodSworn Guard stood equally composed, even bored.
Borsalino exhaled softly. "Heh… guess this won't be so simple after all."
Bewick's paw descended, faster and harder, the air screaming as it split open beneath the weight. He could almost taste freedom—his grin widened, savage and desperate.
The blow landed with a deafening crack.
Enel's body shattered.
Rozwald's smirk turned to delight. Bewick's laughter bood through the hall—until his body convulsed violently.
A blinding flash exploded across his fur.
Searing lightning danced wildly across Bewick's form, crawling over his flesh like a thousand serpents of light. He scread, the sll of burnt fur filling the air as bolts of thunder tore through him rcilessly.
"Well, well~ isn't this rare? Truly a sight to see!" Borsalino chuckled, his eyes glittering sharply now.
"The Logia of thunder, the Thunder-Thunder Fruit—said to have the most destructive power of all!" His tone was teasing, but there was genuine awe behind it. "The Grey Nation really is sothing… if even their Logia users are still just reserve mbers."
Among the Logia-class Devil Fruits, the Thunder-Thunder Fruit was infamous for its overwhelming offense. Lightning—one of nature's deadliest forces—granted not just sheer destructive might and impossible speed, but near-limitless versatility. It was said to be one of the most devastating powers in existence.
The storm of lightning subsided at last, leaving Bewick staggering, smoke rising from his charred fur. As a Zoan-type user of the Bear-Bear Fruit, his toughness was extraordinary, and sohow he was still alive—barely.
He stumbled back, panting heavily, just outside the range of the electric storm.
Then a mocking voice crackled behind him.
"Huh? Did you just do sothing?"
The upper half of Enel's body reford from blue-white lightning, his signature smirk plastered across his face.
"You… you're a Logia user?!" Bewick stamred in horror.
"Huh? Didn't I tell you?" Enel grinned, arcs of electricity dancing across his skin as he floated lightly off the ground. "I'm the Logia-type Thunder-Thunder Fruit user… what's wrong? You look scared."
Lightning cracked violently behind him, painting the scene in blinding white as Enel's arrogant laughter echoed through the air like a god's judgnt.
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