Chapter 84: Invincible Form
"Why so surprised, Satoru?" Zephyr's voice echoed, distorted slightly by the chilling energy wreathing him. "I've crawled back from the gates of death more times than I can count. I'm a man who's had one foot in hell for decades. Wielding this kind of 'ghostly aura'… isn't that perfectly normal?"
Shrouded in this palpable, violet-tinted energy, Zephyr's presence was utterly transformed. He felt like a different person from the disciplined master of moments before—more ferocious, more primordial. Satoru hadn't expected this depth. He'd underestimated how much his master had kept hidden.
Garp, watching from the sidelines, stopped chewing. His expression grew serious, but not surprised. He'd known about this side of Zephyr for a long time.
So this is it, Satoru realized. This is why a man without Conqueror's Haki could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with monsters like Sengoku and Garp. He'd once thought Zephyr might be the weakest link among the old legends. Now, seeing this, he could only scoff at his own naivety. No one who reached the pinnacle of the Navy was simple.
The fusion of supreme Armament Haki and this sinister ghostly energy had unlocked a new state for Zephyr.
"Most people," Zephyr's voice was a low growl, "would call this a 'demon form'. That fool Barbarossa made the term famous. But the first to master it… was me. I prefer to call it the 'Invincible Form'."
As he spoke, the energy solidified further. Zephyr's skin took on a deep purple hue, his veins standing out like dark cords. His single eye glowed with a fierce light.
"Come, Satoru. Show me everything you have. Otherwise, this ends quickly."
His tone was dripping with a brutal confidence utterly unlike the stern but patient teacher Satoru knew. Perhaps the ghostly energy affected the user's temperament as well as their power.
"This fight… just gets better and better, Master," Satoru said, a wide, exhilarated grin spreading across his face. Since the battle with Kaido, he hadn't been able to cut loose. Not truly.
"Then you'd better be careful, Master. Don't die on me."
In response, Satoru unleashed his own power. A torrent of Conqueror's Haki erupted from his small frame, a visible, crackling wave of supreme will that slammed into the surroundings. The ground at his feet fractured in a spiderweb pattern. Walls of nearby academy buildings groaned and cracked. The sheer pressure was tangible, a declaration of kingly ambition.
"I should be the one saying that to you," Zephyr shot back.
They clashed again.
This time, their movements entered a realm beyond normal perception. To the distant observers using Observation Haki, it was a storm of impacts—a dozen, a hundred blows exchanged in the space of a single breath. The sound was a continuous, deafening BAMBAMBAMBAM like a drumbeat of annihilation.
"Those two idiots… they're going too far," Garp muttered, fists clenched, ready to intervene if the battle turned lethal.
At that moment, the top brass arrived. Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Vice Admiral Tsuru, and the three Admirals—Aokiji, Kizaru, and Akainu—all converged at the edge of the training ground. They weren't here to stop it. A battle of this caliber was a rare spectacle and a critical evaluation.
"I've never seen Teacher Zephyr like this," Kuzan (Aokiji) remarked, his usual lethargy gone, replaced by intense focus.
"It's positively terrifying in there~" Kizaru drawled, though his eyes held none of their usual laziness, only sharp assessment.
Akainu stood silent, his face a stony mask, but the subtle, rapid tapping of his finger against his arm betrayed the intense calculation happening in his mind. The power on display was beyond even his expectations.
"It's been a long time since I've seen Zephyr in this state," Sengoku said, a touch of nostalgia in his voice. This ferocious Zephyr brought back memories of their youth—the three unstoppable pillars of the Navy: Zephyr with his ghostly energy, Sengoku with his Buddha Fruit, and Garp with his Conqueror's Haki fists.
"Over twenty years," Tsuru replied softly beside him, her own eyes distant with memory. She had been their strategist and medic, the only one who could somewhat rein in the three wild titans.
Both ghostly energy and Haki were finite resources. Using them simultaneously accelerated the drain on the user's stamina. The longer the fight went on, the more it favored Satoru, who had yet to reveal his full arsenal. Zephyr knew this. He had to end it fast.
But Satoru wouldn't be taken down quickly.
Satoru, for his part, was also feeling the strain. His Haki reserves were being taxed heavily. Yet, compared to Zephyr, who was burning his ultimate trump card, Satoru still held back. He hadn't used Black Flash.
"Satoru!" Zephyr roared over the din of their clashing fists. "Stop holding back! Show your teacher your true strength!"
"Since you insist, Master!"
Tyrant Black Flash.
The signature technique. Advanced Conqueror's Haki infusion, multiplied by the spatial distortion of Black Flash. His fist became a nexus of crackling black lightning and oppressive will.
The moment their fists connected this time, Zephyr felt the difference immediately. It wasn't just power; it was a quality of destruction that threatened to bypass his defenses entirely. A sickening crunch echoed from his own knuckles. Pain, sharp and real, lanced up his arm.
Satoru wasn't even utilizing the full analytical power of the Six Eyes. He could see the minor flaws in Zephyr's stance, the tiny stress points in his body. But he chose not to exploit them. This was a contest of raw power and will, a tribute to his master.
As the battle raged, Zephyr's movements, fueled by depleting energy, began to slow. Satoru saw the opening—a fraction of a second of lag after a mighty swing.
He didn't hesitate.
His Tyrant Black Flash-imbued fist shot forward, not at a weak point, but straight at Zephyr's guarded center.
SMASH!
The impact was solid, brutal. A spray of blood flew from Zephyr's mouth. The legendary "Black Arm" was lifted off his feet and hurled backward like a cannonball, skidding and tumbling across the ravaged earth for over a dozen meters before coming to a stop, lying on his back.
The ghostly aura around him snuffed out like a candle.
The battle was over.
Zephyr still had the strength to stand, to fight a little longer. But it would be a pale shadow of his former power. Continuing was pointless.
Satoru stood panting heavily, sweat pouring down his face like rain. The direct, head-on clash had drained him considerably.
After a long moment, Zephyr sat up, wiping blood from his lip. He looked at Satoru across the field of destruction.
"You won this one, Satoru."
He then turned his head, his gaze finding the three Admirals standing at the periphery. His voice, though tired, carried absolute authority.
"Now… do you trust in his strength?"
His whole reason for fighting—to force Satoru to prove, beyond all doubt to the Navy's current strongest, that he was worthy.
Akainu met his gaze, then gave a single, curt nod. "Just don't choke when it counts."
Kuzan offered a small, respectful smile. "A year apart, and you've become monstrous. I'm not sure I could win against you now."
Kizaru adjusted his glasses. "I'm looking forward to the day we stand as comrades-in-arms, boy~ It should be… interesting."
The test was passed. The path to the title of Fourth Admiral was clear. All that remained was the World Government's champion.
(End of Chapter)
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