Three days later, the earth-shattering duel finally came to an end.
The result?
Half of the island had been completely sunk by the aftershocks of their battle, reduced to dust at the bottom of the Grand Line.
And the two culprits—Garp and Roger—were now sprawled on the beach like exhausted bulls, panting heavily after fighting each other to a draw.
Then, under the tired but well-practiced gazes of their crews, the two men stuffed themselves with food until they were completely full—and almost at the same moment, their heads drooped, snores rising as they passed out cold.
"All right, show's over," Rayleigh clapped his hands.
"Same routine as always…" Spencer sighed, already giving orders to the rookies.
"Get the captain back on board. Be careful not to let him roll into the sea."
On the other side, the Marines were doing exactly the same thing, hauling their Vice Admiral Garp back onto the dog-head warship with equal familiarity.
The two ships slowly pulled apart in the bay. Crews stood on deck, waving to each other with quiet understanding.
Between pirates and Marines, there was an oddly warm feeling—like old friends saying goodbye.
"Next time we meet, we'll be enemies!" Gaban shouted toward the retreating warship.
"Next time I'll arrest every last one of you!" a Marine rear admiral shouted back.
Once the Marines were gone, the deck of the Oro Jackson finally fell into brief calm.
But it didn't last.
As the setting sun painted the sea in gold and crimson, a small ship appeared on the horizon.
A towering figure stood alone at its bow, radiating overwhelming pressure just by being there.
From his posture alone, you could tell—this man was terrifyingly strong.
Blond hair.
A crescent-shaped white moustache.
Edward Newgate.
The future "Strongest Man in the World."
Whitebeard.
(Wait, hold on—aren't you only in your thirties right now? Why's the beard already this legendary?)
Without hesitation, he leapt straight onto the deck of the Oro Jackson, his heavy landing making the entire ship tremble.
"Where's Roger?" Newgate's voice was deep and powerful.
His gaze swept over the crew, finally settling on Rayleigh, Gaban, and Kyle—the three with the most stable presence.
"I heard he was here. I came to test him."
This was one of the great pirates of the era, a man who stood alongside Roger and Shiki.
Several crew members immediately tensed and gripped their weapons.
"Sorry about that, Newgate," Kyle stepped forward calmly, arms crossed, even wearing an apologetic smile.
"Our captain just finished a very intense 'pre-meal workout.' He's catching up on sleep right now, so he can't accept your challenge."
Newgate raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly surprised.
Kyle tapped the naginata on his back, golden eyes lighting up with pure battle intent.
"But since you're already here, leaving empty-handed would be boring. We both use naginata—how about I be your opponent?"
The deck went silent.
"Kyle, think carefully!" Elio warned.
"That's Whitebeard!" Nozdon muttered.
Newgate stared at the much younger man before him, whose presence didn't yield an inch.
Then he grinned.
"Gurararara! Fine! Let me see how strong the monsters on Roger's ship really are!"
He pulled out his massive naginata—Murakumogiri.
Kyle drew his own long blade. The two faced each other in the center of the deck.
No Devil Fruits.
No flashy techniques.
Just a pure duel between naginata masters.
The next instant, both vanished.
CLANG!
Metal screamed as their blades crashed together, sparks exploding like fireworks.
Their Haki collided, the shockwaves forcing nearby crew members to stumble back.
Fast—too fast!
Their weapons became extensions of their bodies. Every swing, parry, and thrust blurred into afterimages.
The deck cracked beneath their feet.
Newgate's power was overwhelming—every strike carried the might to split mountains, his wide, domineering style radiating kingly authority.
Kyle, in contrast, was fluid and elusive.
He fused his understanding of vibrations into his footwork and blade, constantly redirecting Newgate's force and striking back from impossible angles.
Kyle seized an opening and slashed upward, the air exploding along his blade's path.
Newgate didn't dodge.
His Murakumogiri darkened with dense Armament Haki as he brought it down in a vertical chop, stopping Kyle's attack dead in its tracks.
"Nice move!" Newgate praised, before stepping forward and bringing his weapon down with terrifying force.
Kyle blocked.
The impact was monstrous.
His arms went numb as the power crushed him to one knee, leaving deep dents in the deck beneath his feet.
In raw strength and Haki, he was still inferior to this future legend.
"Kuhahaha! You're doing great, Newgate!"
Roger's voice rang out from the cabin.
He had woken up, bare-chested, watching the fight with gleeful interest.
Kyle used the chance to disengage, shaking his tingling arms with a wry smile.
Roger walked up and slung an arm around Newgate's shoulder.
"Hey, hey, no more fighting! We finally meet—let's have a party!"
Newgate put away his weapon. He looked at Roger, then at Kyle, and shook his head.
"I'll pass. I'm still searching for the meaning of going out to sea."
He glanced at Kyle once more.
"You're strong, kid. I look forward to our next battle."
Then he jumped back onto his ship and sailed away.
The crew watched Whitebeard's retreating figure in silence.
Kyle sheathed his naginata, already replaying the duel in his mind.
He hadn't used his Devil Fruit—just blade, strength, and Haki.
If he had used his powers, he was confident he could defeat the Whitebeard of today, before the Gura Gura no Mi.
But the future Whitebeard?
That was another matter.
Still…
Kyle smiled.
His greatest advantage was time.
He was young. He had years to grow.
Then a thought struck him.
When did Whitebeard get the Gura Gura no Mi?
A buried memory surfaced—
God Valley.
The legendary incident was coming.
The fall of the Rocks Pirates.
Roger and Garp fighting together.
Whitebeard had been part of Rocks back then.
Did he only get the Gura Gura no Mi after God Valley?
And only after that… find his "family," his purpose?
A bold, dangerous idea took root in Kyle's mind.
God Valley… the stage where legends clashed, where an era ended and a new one began.
How could he miss that?
Kyle looked out at the ever-changing sea, golden eyes shining.
He licked his lips, excitement and anticipation mixing in his voice.
"When that day comes… it's going to be absolute chaos."
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