Chapter 26
A hush fell over the carnage-choked field of God's Valley. Even the savage cries of battle died in throats, replaced by a stunned silence. Two figures, impossibly fast, had descended from their respective ships, landing with the force of small earthquakes. One, broad-shouldered and imposing, bore the stoic visage of Garp the 'Mad Dog', his face etched with grim determination. The other, lean and lanky with a carefree grin, was none other than Gol D. Roger, the carefree but incredibly strong pirate, his straw hat askew but his eyes blazing with purpose.
They stood side-by-side, not as mortal enemies, but as unlikely allies united against a common foe. Their gazes, normally reserved for adversaries, were now fixed on the towering figure of Rocks D. Xebec, the man who threatened to rewrite the world and plunge it into utter darkness.
Rocks turned, a chilling smirk twisting his lips. "Mad Dog Garp, Gol D. Roger. Two sworn enemies somehow got together to come before me. Tell me, have you come to play house...or to die?"
His voice boomed across the battlefield, laced with a predator's amusement. The tension crackled in the air, thick as the blood that stained the earth. Even the fearsome pirates, emboldened by Rocks's victories, hesitated, sensing the shift in the tide.
Roger let out a booming laugh, the sound echoing through the valley like a roll of thunder. "Always so dramatic, Xebec," he said, his grin widening. "We just came to offer you a friendly tip – don't bet against the two men who will one day hold the world in their fists, even if one fist belongs to a Marine."
Garp snorted, a rumbling sound that sent shivers down spines. "Don't listen to his nonsense, Rocks. We're here to put an end to your ambition."
The air crackled with barely contained energy. Rocks's eyes narrowed, glinting like obsidian shards. "You think the two of you can stop me? You both should know the terrifying cancer the World Government and I am the gifted doctor chosen to remove the tumour in its entirety.. What's more both of you are the inheritors of 'D', why are you stopping me?"
He slammed his massive fist into the ground, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the earth. The shockwave knocked both Roger and Garp off their feet, but they were up in an instant, eyes blazing with defiance.
"It's true that someone must stop the world government but…."
"THAT PERSON IS DEFINITELY NOT YOU!" x2
Roger drew his blade and spun into a whirlwind of silver. His movements were a blur, impossible to track, as he slashed at Rocks with blinding speed. The nose hair king was a whirlwind of destruction, each swing of his blades singing a deadly song.
But Rocks was no slouch. With a roar, he brought his own obsidian blade, Hattori, crashing down against Roger's assault. The clash of steel erupted like thunder, a sound that threatened to tear the very mountains apart. The shockwaves slammed into the surrounding pirates, sending them flying like ragdolls.
Meanwhile, Garp, the living cannon, met Rocks's brute force with his own. His fists, hardened by years of battle, smashed against Rocks's chest with the force of a battering ram. Each blow seemed to shake the very ground, leaving craters where his knuckles connected.
Rocks roared in pain, a primal sound that echoed through the valley. He usually wouldn't flinch at this level of attack but he was already injured before staggered back, but his eyes burned with a manic fury. He swung Hattori at Garp, a dark arc that cut through the air with a deadly whistle.
Garp ducked, rolling past the blade by a hair's breadth. He brought his fist up, aiming for Rocks's gut, but Rocks anticipated the move. He twisted away, the obsidian blade flashing out, leaving a deep gash on Garp's shoulder.
The battle raged on, a brutal ballet of clashing steel and bone-shattering blows. Roger danced like a demon, his blades a blur of deadly silver. Garp, unyielding as a mountain, met each blow with the force of a hurricane. Rocks, wounded but still formidable, roared his defiance, his own blows heavy with the fury of a cornered beast.
The blood-soaked battlefield became a whirlwind of destruction, the cries of the wounded mixing with the clash of steel and the crackle of dying fires. It was a battle for the ages, two legends and a tyrant locked in a dance of death that could shape the very destiny of the world.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the carnage, the outcome of this epic clash remained unknown. The question hung heavy in the air, a silent battle cry unanswered: Who would stand at the end, when the storm had passed and the dust settled?