"This… this is the power that splits heaven and earth?"
"The entire sky… was torn apart… such a slash…"
Below—
Dracule Mihawk stood frozen in place as he witnessed everything firsthand.
His usual cold indifference could no longer be maintained.
His lips parted slightly, shock spreading uncontrollably across his face.
Such a strike!
Even he… was nowhere near capable of it.
That invisible force—
Even without directly sensing it—
Mihawk's instincts alone told him exactly how terrifying it was!
A power that could crush his own slashes—
Shatter his very body—
Even destroy the supre black blade, Yoru!
It felt as though the entire world could be torn apart in an instant…
That irresistible, incomprehensible force—
Had already surpassed the Four Emperors!
It could even pose a fatal threat to them!
This—
Was the first ti Mihawk had witnessed a power beyond his understanding.
"…Could everything the Ancient King said… be true?"
After a long silence—
Mihawk let out a deep sigh.
A thought took root in his mind—
Growing uncontrollably, impossible to uproot.
Four thousand years…
This being before him—
Was truly a king from four thousand years ago!
On this sea—
There had once existed the Divine Race, the Hundred Races—
endless powerful beings!
And this king—
Had been strong enough to contend with the Divine Race itself—
To carve out a path of survival for humanity!
To sleep for four thousand years and not perish—
Was this the true extent of his power?
"Tch…"
"Mongrels who flee in panic… and dare bark before this king…"
"This era… has truly forgotten my existence…"
Kazama Haruto's crimson eyes watched as the three streaks of light vanished into the distance.
He clicked his tongue, utterly indifferent.
As if—
Those who had fled in panic were not the three Admirals of Marine Headquarters—
But re naless weaklings of the sea.
"Buzz—"
The endless darkness gradually receded.
The sky slowly returned to its original state.
Only the chaotic currents and lingering destructive energy remained—
Proof of the terrifying force that had just been unleashed.
Crimson, black, and gold energy swirled around Kazama Haruto and the Sword of Rupture—
Its overwhelming aura spreading in all directions.
Space itself cracked under the pressure—
Jagged fissures tearing through the air.
The crimson patterns along the blade shimred brilliantly—
Radiating unparalleled might.
Gently running his hand along the blade—
Kazama Haruto murmured softly:
"Ea… in this life…"
"I will take you to battle the gods of the Divine Race…"
"And all the Hundred Races!"
As if responding—
The crimson patterns on the sword flickered intensely—
Like it understood his will.
Like it was eager…
Yearning for the coming battles.
"Buzz—"
Within the intertwined energies of crimson, black, and gold—
That world-rending force gradually dissipated without a trace.
The crimson aura faded—
Leaving only the golden light behind.
The Sword of Rupture vanished—
Once again becoming the golden key to the Gate of the Golden Capital.
A breeze stirred.
A strand of Kazama Haruto's hair lifted slightly.
From below—
Mihawk shot upward, landing before him.
"What is it?"
"Mongrel… do you also wish to challenge the authority of a king?"
Kazama Haruto frowned slightly, arms crossed as he looked down upon the world's greatest swordsman.
His voice was ice-cold.
At the slightest sign of offense—
He would strike without hesitation.
In his eyes—
There was no such thing as the "World's Strongest Swordsman."
Anyone who stood in his path—
Had only one identity—
The dead.
Without hesitation—
Under Kazama Haruto's overwhelming gaze—
Mihawk set aside his usual pride and aloofness.
Placing his right hand against his chest, he bowed slightly.
His tone carried rare respect.
"Honored Ancient King…"
"I am Mihawk."
"May I ask… what truly happened four thousand years ago?"
"Even with your power… what forced you into a slumber of four thousand years?"
"And in that era…"
"Were there many weapons like those you wield…"
"And more swordsn who stood at such heights?"
As he spoke—
Mihawk's voice gradually grew fervent.
Though he was deeply curious about the Divine Race and the Hundred Races—
At his core—
He was still Mihawk.
What truly stirred his soul—
Were powerful swords—
And those who wielded them.
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