At the very center of the field, Gern Reginald Sigmar and Shanks still had their hands locked tight around the hilt of Gryphon, neither able to force it even a fraction of an inch.
Shanks stared straight at Gern from point-blank range, making one final attempt to de-escalate, his voice low and heavy.
"Gern… give me some face."
Those words had quelled countless conflicts across the New World. They were the embodiment of Red-Haired Shanks' authority as one of the Four Emperors.
"Face? Heh…"Gern let out a cold chuckle, as if he'd just heard something absurd. The strength in the hand pinning the sword did not lessen in the slightest.
"Sorry, Shanks…"
"Your face… isn't worth much to me."
As he spoke, Gern tilted his head slightly, the contempt in his eyes deepening."Oh, right. And don't get me wrong—this isn't just about your 'Four Emperor' status."
His gaze narrowed, and he delivered the next words slowly, deliberately, each syllable striking like a hammer.
"Even if you added the word 'Saint' after your name…"
"I still wouldn't give you any."
"!!!"
Shanks' pupils shrank violently. For a split second, his entire presence faltered.
His most deeply buried secret—his origin—had just been laid bare, casually, without hesitation.
At the same time, Gern caught that fleeting change in expression with razor-sharp precision. The smile on his face widened.
"Oh? You're rattled?" he said lightly."Looks like I hit the mark."
With his secret exposed and any chance of reconciliation crushed, Shanks knew there was no longer a way out.
From the hilt of Gryphon came the unyielding pressure of Gern's hand—immovable, absolute—sealing off every retreat.
A feral fury, mixed with the resolve to defend his pride, exploded outward.
"GERN!!!"
Shanks growled, all hesitation gone, his eyes blazing with pure, unfiltered battle intent.
"You think… I really don't dare draw my blade against you?!"
The instant his words fell—
Bang!
A strange, strained sound rang out, like something reaching its breaking point.
The clashing red and violet waves of Conqueror's Haki, locked in stalemate, suddenly hit a critical threshold—not with one overpowering the other, but like two identical poles violently repelling each other.
They detonated.
An invisible shockwave erupted in a perfect ring from the two men.
Dust and shattered stone were swept clean from the ground, leaving behind a pristine circular scar.
Even Enel and Benn Beckman, standing some distance away, were forced to lean back slightly under the pressure.
Riding the recoil of that blast, Shanks staggered backward—thud, thud, thud—retreating several steps at once, finally breaking away from Gern!
And in the very moment his footing stabilized—
Clang!
The cry of steel echoed through heaven and earth.
The famed blade Gryphon was finally drawn, gripped tightly in Shanks' hand, dark-red arcs of Conqueror's Haki crackling once more along its length.
Shanks leveled the sword at Gern. His aura was completely transformed—razor-sharp, unrestrained, every trace of restraint gone.
His voice rang out, resolute and absolute, declaring his will not only to Gern, but to everyone present.
"If…"
"If you really want to turn this into total chaos…"
Shanks took a deep breath. The lingering pressure of his Conqueror's Haki surged again, lightning snapping through the air.
"I WILL SEE IT THROUGH TO THE END!!!"
Before Gern could respond, Enel burst out laughing as if he'd just heard the greatest joke imaginable.
"Yahahahaha!!!"
His laughter was wild, arrogant, dripping with scorn. Under Beckman's intensely guarded gaze, Enel still transformed effortlessly—his body dissolving into pure lightning.
In a blinding flash that split the sky, far too fast for the naked eye to follow, he appeared in midair between the two sides.
Hovering high above, Enel pointed his golden staff down at Shanks, his pupils filled with utter disdain for mortals.
"A mere human dares challenge a god? Yahahaha! How ridicul—"
The laughter stopped dead.
"—foolish."
The arrogance vanished from Enel's face, replaced by cold indifference.
"But if you want to fight…""…then fight properly."
Lowering his gaze, looking down upon all life, he kept the golden staff raised skyward and softly spoke two words.
"Raigo Domain."
Bzz—BOOM!!!
The moment the words left his lips, a colossal bolt of lightning flashed across the heavens, centered on Enel's position.
Then—
Countless golden lightning pillars, each as thick as a barrel, fell like divine lances of judgment from the clouds!
They struck with terrifying precision along the island's designated boundary lines.
"RUMBLE—CRASH!!!"
Thunder roared without end. The ground trembled violently.
Blinding arcs of lightning intertwined, forming an enormous prison of thunder that connected sky and earth.
Dense electrical currents danced wildly along the "bars" of this cage, hissing and crackling with lethal intensity.
In a single instant, with Enel at its core, fully half of Partha Island was completely sealed and engulfed by this horrifying Thunder Domain!
The true terror of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, honed by Enel himself, was laid bare.
With sheer individual power, he had forcibly reshaped the battlefield—dividing space itself and proclaiming:
This is the domain of a god.Step beyond it, and face divine punishment.
Benn Beckman looked up at the thunder prison that swallowed half the sky, at the figure of Enel standing within it like a descending thunder god.
Even his normally unshakable expression turned grave.
He exhaled slowly, his voice low and heavy.
"That long-eared bastard…""…he's a monster too."
...
Elsewhere, Gern lifted his head, calmly admiring the grand spectacle Enel had created. The dazzling lightning cast shifting shadows across the smiling side of his face.
Only then did he slowly return his gaze to Shanks, who stood ready with blade in hand.
"That guy Enel…" Gern said casually, like a superior indulging an overzealous subordinate."He really does love stealing the spotlight."
Then—
His tone changed.
"But…"
The smile on Gern's face remained, yet all warmth drained from it, replaced by a chilling, absolute authority.
His free left hand moved—slowly, deliberately—to the hilt of the black blade Bahuang at his waist.
That single, simple motion caused his presence to undergo a complete transformation.
The invisible pressure radiating from him grew so heavy it nearly drowned out the thunder roaring across the sky.
"There's one thing he said…"
"That was absolutely right."
"Challenging a god is, by nature…"
Gern's voice was calm, unhurried. He paused slightly as his fingers tightened around Bahuang's hilt. The aged wrappings around the blade began to unravel.
"…reckless."
BOOM!!!
The moment those two words fell, the air between Gern and Shanks completely solidified.
A god?
The "god" Gern spoke of was clearly not Enel and his self-proclaimed divinity.
It was himself.
The true, living legend of this sea.The man who ended the old era, suppressed the new one, and forced even the Four Emperors to stand on full alert.
In Gern Reginald Sigmar's eyes—
Shanks' challenge was nothing more than folly.