Chapter 24: A Clash of Wills
Rayleigh didn't fully grasp Levi's warning. A contest of Conqueror's Haki? His body might be 76, but willpower wasn't a muscle that atrophied with age. Conqueror's Haki was the manifestation of one's courage, ambition, and indomitable spirit—a battle of souls, not biceps. While it could be infused into attacks, a pure clash like this was a test of intrinsic worth.
Rayleigh felt a surge of fierce excitement. Opponents who could engage on this level were vanishingly rare in the world. And one so young? It demanded his utmost respect.
He had no expectation of losing. Over the decades, he hadn't let the sword in his heart rust; he'd honed it in silence, waiting, perhaps, for one final, worthy moment to let it shine fully once more.
So as Levi advanced, step by deliberate step, Rayleigh met the challenge head-on. A man with the qualities of a King did not yield. To lose in Conqueror's Haki wouldn't decide the fight, but it would speak a quiet truth about the depth of one's spirit. And Rayleigh's spirit was forged in the crucible of the Grand Line's end.
Still… why would he say that? The question nagged at him even as his will solidified. Why shouldn't I use Conqueror's Haki against him?
There was no more time for pondering. The invisible battle had become terrifyingly visible.
With a sound like the sky tearing, two titanic forces collided.
A dome of deep, shimmering blue Reiatsu, crackling with black spiritual energy, expanded from Levi. Opposing it, a brilliant, roaring corona of golden-and-crimson Conqueror's Haki erupted from Rayleigh. Where they met, the air warped, screamed, and discharged arcs of violent, lightning-like energy.
The entire Sabaody Archipelago trembled. In the distant groves and amusement parks, people screamed, stumbling as the ground shook, believing it a quake. Hundreds more, caught in the rippling edges of the clashing wills, simply slumped, eyes rolling back, consciousness snuffed out like candles in a gale.
This was merely the periphery.
"The pressure… it's a duel of Conqueror's!" Sentomaru grunted, his famed defense straining just to remain standing upright. Such a sight was the stuff of legends, a clash most went their entire lives without witnessing. To see it was a privilege. To be near it was a trial.
At the epicenter, Luffy and Zoro were being crushed. Their bodies, already taxed, shook violently. Vision blurred. Breath became a ragged, impossible struggle. Only the raw, stubborn kernel of their wills—Luffy's refusal to lose his crew, Zoro's promise never to fall again—kept them from utter blackness.
Gion clenched her jaw, her own powerful spirit feeling dwarfed by the monumental struggle. This wasn't about killing blows; it was a foundational contest that made everything else feel secondary.
"The look in your eyes," Levi's voice cut through the storm of wills, calm and analytical. "It's not the gaze of a man content to fade away. You're waiting for something. Or someone."
Some of Levi's earlier speculation crystallized. A retired legend wouldn't maintain a will sharp enough to push back against his Reiatsu like this.
Cough.
A slight, almost imperceptible cough from Rayleigh. His posture shifted minutely, a hint of strain betraying itself before being ruthlessly suppressed.
Levi's perception, however, was too keen. He saw it—not just fatigue, but the subtle flaw, the old injury, the toll of time that a vibrant spirit could mask but not erase. At 76, four years older than the ailing Whitebeard, his body was not the indomitable fortress Garp's was. Age was the one enemy even the Dark King couldn't fully defy.
"It seems you have many questions of your own," Rayleigh said, his voice still steady despite the conflict.
"Curiosity is a universal trait," Levi replied.
"You achieved the rank of Admiral at such a young age. A remarkable feat." Rayleigh's eyes held Levi's through the storm. "But have you ever considered… what if the 'justice' you serve is itself unjust?"
It was a profound question, one meant to probe the core of a Marine.
Levi's answer was blunt, stripping away all pretense. "Why does everyone assume I fight for justice? I don't possess such a thing."
Rayleigh's will faltered for a fraction of a second, his focus broken by sheer surprise. No justice? It contradicted everything. The grandson of Garp, pursuing pirates with such efficacy… without the drive of justice, it made no tactical sense. To invite the ire of the Marine Hero without ideological cause was irrational. And the young were the easiest to mold with righteous fervor.
"And if not justice, then what?" Rayleigh pressed, genuine curiosity cutting through the combat.
"Although I don't know the full scope of what you and Roger set in motion—perhaps it's grander than toppling an era, something about saving humanity or reviving a lost truth—it's ultimately irrelevant to me." Levi's words were chilling in their detachment. "There's only one principle I've ever believed in."
"What is it?"
"Power."
The word landed with the weight of an anvil.
"As long as I possess ultimate strength, it doesn't matter what grand game you or anyone else is playing. I hold the possibility to change the board. And to gain that strength," Levi's gaze sharpened, the blue dome around him flaring, "I need military achievements. You are a prime candidate."
The confession was startling in its honesty. There was no hidden agenda, no lofty ideal. It was pure, transactional ambition.
For a moment, Rayleigh was silent. Then, a low chuckle built in his chest, growing into full, rich laughter that somehow harmonized with the roaring clash of their energies.
"Hahahaha! So young, yet so audacious! To aim for the pinnacle of the world! Can you even comprehend the height you speak of?" In that laugh was the memory of Roger, of Rocks—monsters of ambition, yet none had ever stated their goal with such cold, singular focus. No wonder his will is so formidable. In his mind, the entire world is merely a staircase.
"Is it difficult?" Levi asked, the question utterly sincere.
Rayleigh's laughter redoubled. "Hilarious! Truly a fascinating young man!"
His expression sobered, the mirth replaced by the fierce joy of a warrior facing a worthy challenge. "Then let's not hold back! Win or lose, let us fight in a manner worthy of our titles!"
"As you wish," Levi said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "And don't worry. I'll ensure the credit you provide is put to good use."
"Your confidence is staggering!" Rayleigh roared, his golden Conqueror's Haki blazing brighter, denser, pushing against the encroaching blue. "But the one to walk away victorious… will be me!"
The silent war of wills escalated into a deafening, physical maelstrom. The very light around them bent and fractured as two fundamentally different kinds of supreme pressure—one born of a king's ambition, the other of a soul's absolute dominance—vied for control of the space between them. The outcome of the larger battle, and the fate of the Straw Hats, hinged on which will would break first.
(End of Chapter)
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