Chapter 14 — A Couple Who Stack Layers Together!
Half a day later—
The Red Dragon raced across the ocean, its crimson-black hull cutting through the waves like a furious serpent in pursuit of prey.
Spray scattered in the wind as the warship's dragon-shaped prow carved a white trail through the vast blue sea.
On the deck stood Akira, both hands resting on the railing as his sharp eyes fixed on the compass needle before him.
"Dressrosa's direction. The Eternal Pose can't be wrong."
"I should be catching up soon, right?"
His tone was calm, but a suppressed thrill pulsed within it.
For the past twelve hours, he hadn't stopped for even a moment. The Armor of Will beneath his clothes continued to reinforce itself endlessly—each breath radiating waves of searing heat.
The sea breeze whipped through his disheveled hair as he looked up, scanning the horizon.
Finally, a faint shadow appeared in the distance.
"There you are…"
Far ahead, a large cargo ship bearing the flag of the Beasts Pirates sailed sluggishly across the waves.
It was massive, but clearly not a warship—just a supply vessel.
A faint grin tugged at Akira's lips.
"You got pretty far, huh? I didn't know my wife was this good at navigation."
He turned the wheel sharply.
The Red Dragon roared like a living beast, sending waves crashing outward as it charged straight toward the ship ahead.
Meanwhile, on that very cargo ship—
Yamato stood on deck, facing the salty wind with narrowed eyes.
Her silver hair danced wildly in the breeze, her breath faint behind the Hannya mask, yet her expression was… calm.
"Finally… I'm free."
She looked up at the sky, her eyes soft with fragile hope.
"No more Father's orders… no more cages on Onigashima."
But that fleeting peace didn't last.
"Eh…?"
Her pupils shrank.
In the far distance, beyond the shimmering waves, a black warship tore through the sea—faster than any ship she'd ever seen.
The hull, the dragon-headed prow—she knew it instantly.
"Th-That's the Red Dragon?!"
Yamato's face went pale. Her heartbeat nearly stopped.
Even from afar, she could see the crimson-and-black dragon insignia fluttering on its flag.
"That's… King's ship!!"
For a split second, she froze. Then panic hit her like lightning.
"No way! How did they catch up this fast?!"
Grinding her teeth, she forced her fear down, replacing it with anger.
She snatched up the massive spiked kanabo leaning beside her.
"Damn it! Even if it's King—I'm not going back!"
"If it's a fight they want, I'll give them one!"
Her foot slammed against the deck, and the entire ship trembled from the pressure of her Haki.
"I am Kozuki Oden! I'll walk my own path!"
She dropped into a fighting stance, eyes blazing as she faced the approaching warship.
The waves churned violently, the distance closing fast.
Sweat gathered in her palm, but she didn't move an inch.
Then, her brows furrowed.
"Wait… something's off."
Even from afar, she saw it—no black wings, no armor, no mask.
King wasn't there.
Instead, a single figure stood at the helm—tall, slightly messy, hair blowing freely in the wind.
He held the wheel with one hand and waved with the other, a lazy grin on his face.
"Yo—my wife. You're pretty fast, huh?"
Yamato froze.
Her eyes went wide, her body stiff as stone.
"Akira…?"
She could hardly believe what she was seeing.
How was he here?
Wasn't he supposed to be lying half-dead back on Onigashima, recovering from Father's attack?
"How did he find me…?"
Her hair fluttered in the wind as confusion clouded her gaze.
The man approaching looked entirely at ease—like he'd come for a stroll, not a chase.
The Red Dragon drew closer, the gap between their ships shrinking to barely a dozen meters.
Akira threw a line of rope—his movements swift and precise, hooking the mast with ease.
"He came alone?!"
In one fluid motion, Akira vaulted forward.
His foot pressed against the mast—then he leapt.
He landed perfectly on the cargo ship's deck.
His body was still covered in wounds, especially across his chest where Kaido's strike had nearly caved him in. The injury hadn't fully healed—fresh blood still stained the edges of his bandages.
Yet despite that, he smiled.
His face was pale, but his voice was steady.
"Yo, Yamato."
"Congratulations—you're finally free."
Yamato stared, breath caught in her throat.
She saw the injuries covering him… and the unwavering fire still burning in his eyes.
"He really fought Father…"
"All those wounds… because of me."
"And now he's come all the way here… even while still hurt?"
For a moment, even the wind seemed to stop.
Yamato's vision blurred.
All the emotions she'd bottled up in her heart finally overflowed.
She wanted to speak—but no words came out.
"Is this what Oden meant by true comradeship…?"
"Why does it… make me want to cry?"
Akira smiled gently, tilting his head.
"What's wrong? Aren't you going to welcome me?"
But before he could finish, Yamato stepped forward and threw her arms around him.
Akira froze.
For a moment, the world itself stopped moving.
He could feel her warmth, the faint tremor in her shoulders, the unspoken emotions in her trembling grip.
"Thank you, Akira."
Her voice was hoarse, but deeply sincere.
Akira stood still for three seconds.
Huh? Wait—this isn't part of the script. Isn't she supposed to still call herself Kozuki Oden? What's with this emotional scene all of a sudden?
He rubbed his nose awkwardly, forcing a grin.
"A simple 'thank you' doesn't feel enough, does it?"
Yamato pulled back slightly, her cheeks streaked with tears.
She lowered her head for a moment, clearly torn—then her face flushed pink.
With an embarrassed huff, she said stiffly,
"Then… fine."
"Last night, you looked… quite happy."
Akira raised a brow. "Hm?"
"I-I can… make a little sacrifice again."
Her voice wavered, her jaw clenched tightly as she forced the words out.
"So that your… 'comrade' can be happy too!"
Akira's lips twitched, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
"Oh? Sounds like you're getting addicted to it."
"Y-You—!!"
Yamato's face turned bright red—even the tips of her ears glowed.
"If you don't want to, then forget it!" she snapped, glaring furiously.
But Akira only smiled slyly.
He reached into his cloak—and pulled out two objects.
A massive, spiked kanabo glimmering with dark power—Kaido's legendary weapon, Hassaikai.
And a silver-gray Armor of Will.
The moment Yamato saw them, her eyes nearly popped out.
"Th-That's Father's Hassaikai?! Did you—did you steal his weapon?!"
"Not on purpose," Akira said casually, raising his hands.
"He hit me too hard, so it kind of flew off on its own."
"You're insane!"
Yamato stared in total disbelief.
Akira just laughed, handing her the weapon.
"You're good with this, right? Take it."
She hesitated for a few seconds, then slowly accepted the club.
"For me?"
"And this too."
Akira handed her the armor. "Wear it."
Yamato eyed it skeptically, then glanced at the similar armor on Akira's body.
"So what—now we've got… matching outfits? Like, 'sibling armor'? Or… uh… couple gear?"
She'd once heard the phrase "couple outfit," but disliked the word "couple," so she tried to phrase it differently.
Akira chuckled. "Sibling armor, huh?"
He leaned closer, his voice low but teasing.
"This device strengthens your body rapidly. I managed to withstand Kaido's attacks thanks to this thing."
Yamato frowned. "Just armor can do that?"
"If you don't believe me," Akira said with a mischievous grin, "how about I show you?"
Before she could respond, energy flared from his body—
his Divine Manifestation Technique igniting in full force!
BOOM!
In an instant, his muscles expanded, his height shooting up to nine meters once more!
"W-What—?!" Yamato gasped.
"Why did you grow that big again?!"
Before she could back away, Akira moved—lightning-fast.
His arm snaked around her waist, lifting her effortlessly off the ground.
"H-Hey! What are you—"
His voice brushed against her ear, deep and teasing.
"Believe me or not… why don't we test it firsthand?"
Yamato stiffened, her face glowing crimson.
"Y-You! Put me down right now!"
Akira smirked. "Too late."
Still holding her tight, he carried both her and the armor—
and jumped into the ship's interior.
"H-Hey—!!"
Her protest vanished beneath the crashing waves.
Moments later, the sea fell quiet again—
save for the rhythmic creaking of the ship's hull slicing through the waves.
Yet strangely… the massive cargo vessel began to rock back and forth.
And the rhythm of those tremors—
was suspiciously steady.
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