Chapter 129 - Yoruichi vs Mihawk

The ship made its grand approach, a breathtaking behemoth of the sea, and all eyes were drawn to its imposing figurehead. But even more captivating were the two figures who dominated its deck, appearing suddenly as the smoke cleared: Yoruichi and Ryu.

Yoruichi stood tall and composed. Her dark purple hair, swaying with the sea breeze, created an enchanting spectacle. Eyes filled with a silent challenge, she held her gaze firm, unblinking, and her lips curled into a soft yet determined smile as she looked for her target. She placed one hand on her hip, the other resting gently on the hilt of her sword, exuding an unmistakable aura of confidence and poise as she gazed down at Mihawk.

Besides her, Ryu was a study in contrast. His broad shoulders relaxed, he exuded an air of calmness that defied the tension of the moment. His dark eyes, intense and focused, scanned the landscape before him. One hand held one of his swords while the other casually brushed back his hair.

"Gurararara! Of course, that explosion would be yours. You're late, brat," Whitebeard's yellow eyes crinkled at the edges from the wide smile that crept onto his lips. His booming laugh was as loud and resounding as a cannon blast, a hearty sound that echoed around the deserted battlefield.

"Yeah, my bad. I did come to hold up my word, though. I'll get your son back in a minute," Ryu's voice cut through the lingering echoes of Whitebeard's laughter. With an agile leap, he dismounted from Iron Whiskers, landing lightly on the battle-torn ground, the barely noticeable thud muffled by the earth beneath him. Yoruichi touched down beside him almost instantaneously, her movements mirroring Ryu's.

"So, Sengoku, can you let Ace go?" Ryu casually tossed the request over his shoulder as he walked towards the Marines, every step oozing with a nonchalant confidence that was uniquely his.

Before Sengoku had a chance to respond, a figure emerged from the sidelines to obstruct Ryu's path. It was Mihawk, tightly clutching his blade, Yoru. His normally stoic face was full of anticipation and excitement in an unspoken challenge.

"Let me take care of this one," Yoruichi stepped forward with a wide, enthusiastic smile as she stared down Mihawk.

Yoruichi's eyes glittered with eager expectation as she pushed herself forward, positioning herself between Ryu and Mihawk. A wide smile spread across her face, her enthusiasm palpable. "Let me fight," Her gaze, unwavering and intent, remained fixed on Mihawk, signaling the initiation of their personal duel.

"Have your fun," Ryu chuckled as he stepped back, making room for the clash that was about to happen.

With a streak of yellow lightning, Yoruichi bolted forward, her blade a blurred arc of deadly intent. Her feet barely grazed the cracked stones, her movements cat-like and acrobatic. The second she was grounded, she was airborne again, her agile form defying gravity as she lunged for Mihawk, aiming a swift strike at his exposed flank.

In a blur of movement, Mihawk spun his enormous blade, his movements as efficient as they were precise. He intercepted Yoruichi's strike, his blade meeting hers with a resonant clash of steel. Sparks erupted, dancing across the cracked stones before they fizzled into the moisture-laden air.

For a heartbeat, there was stillness. Then Yoruichi twisted in mid-air, attempting to Reach Mihawk's exposed back. She landed with lithe grace, her sword slashing at Mihawk's neck, only to meet his relentless defense as he parried her blade to the side.

Mihawk's retaliatory strike was a spectacle of raw power and technique. His blade carved a path through the air, a controlled explosion of energy that forced Yoruichi into an elaborate backward flip to evade. But before she could regain her ground, Mihawk was there, his next attack bearing down on her like a hammer.

Yoruichi reflexively leaned out of harm's way, the wind gusting in her wake.

In a burst of motion, she lunged forward, her body twisting mid-air as she attempted a downward diagonal slash at Mihawk's unprotected torso.

Mihawk, keeping his cool, quickly defended as he retracted his sword. the tip of Yoru scraped against the cobblestones as Mihawk retracted it, throwing a spray of sparks. His blade rose, colliding with Yoruichi's and redirecting her attack harmlessly into the air.

Not losing momentum, Yoruichi transformed her foiled attack into a dizzying aerial spin. She reoriented herself mid-air, landing skillfully on the flat side of Mihawk's giant sword. In the same fluid motion, she pushed off, using his sword as a springboard to propel herself toward his vulnerable flank. Her sword extended in a direct stab aimed at the gap in his defense.

Caught off-guard by her bizarre maneuver, Mihawk barely managed to swivel, Yoruichi's blade slicing a shallow gash across his side. He grimaced, but didn't falter. His enormous blade carved a low arc, targeting Yoruichi's ankles in an attempt to bring her down.

With an acrobatic twist, she vaulted over the sweeping blade, her sword twisting in a series of rapid-fire slashes targeting Mihawk's torso. Mihawk parried, the metallic clang echoing around the battlefield. Their blades met in a high-speed flurry, silver against black, their clashes creating a lethal symphony of steel.

Mihawk, capitalizing on Yoruichi's momentary loss of momentum, attempted to immobilize her. His foot hooked around Yoruichi's ankle in an unexpected maneuver, yanking her off balance. Simultaneously, he raised his sword high, bringing it down like an executioner's axe, aiming to cleave her in two.

Yoruichi, acting on pure instinct, rolled to the side, her blade flashing upward to meet Mihawk's in mid-descent. The impact sent a tremor down her arm, but her blade held, the sparks from their collision lighting up her face.

With an excited glint in her eyes, Yoruichi launched herself high into the sky. Gravity became an ally as she arced downwards, her blade aimed at Mihawk like a bolt of lightning. Her swift descent, however, was a ruse. With a burst of speed that made her look as if she was teleporting, she appeared behind Mihawk, her blade making a beeline for his unprotected back.

Anticipating her feint, Mihawk swiveled, his giant sword extending like a barrier, deflecting her blade with a resonating clash. Capitalizing on the brief disorientation her foiled attack brought, he swung his sword like a monstrous pendulum, aiming to slice through her defenses.

In response, Yoruichi dropped to the ground, her body flattening against the cobblestones, evading his lethal arc by mere inches. She retaliated with a low sweep, her blade slicing through the air toward his knees. But Mihawk wasn't to be caught off-guard. With uncanny agility belying his size, Mihawk launched himself upwards, his cloak billowing out like the wings of a raven.

Using gravity to his advantage, Mihawk brought his blade down in a devastating strike. But Yoruichi had already experienced such an attack twice, a third time was just an invitation for trouble. Yoruichi swiftly sidestepped Mihawk's attack, using the fraction of a second when his sword hit the ground to glue her blade to his neck.

"It's my win, Mihawk," Yoruichi said cheerfully as a gleam of pride shone in her eyes. The point of her blade traced a cold, thin line against Mihawk's skin, a gentle threat underlined by her steady gaze.

Mihawk, held in place by the blade at his neck, remained eerily calm. His yellow eyes bore into Yoruichi's with grudging respect. "Not only Ryu but you too... I thought I'd stand a chance after all the training I did, though I suppose I still have a long way to go," he admitted, the ghost of a smile crossing his lips. His grip on his sword relaxed, signaling his surrender.

Yoruichi withdrew her sword, stepping back with an air of quiet dignity. She sheathed her weapon and turned towards the silent audience of marines and pirates alike, her expression challenging and victorious.

Meanwhile, Ryu flicked his gaze toward Sengoku, a confidant expression on his face.

"How about it, Sengoku?" he asked, his voice steady, unfazed by the pandemonium around him. "Will you release Ace now? I don't think you have any men left to resist," His tone was deceptively light, but his eyes mirrored the steel in his voice. His posture, seemingly relaxed, held a promise of imminent violence.

Sengoku, a calculating look in his eyes, remained silent for a moment, seemingly weighing his options. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut through.

"Damn it! I can't refuse, can I?" Sengoku cursed in anger, his voice heavy with exasperation. The vein on his temple pulsed rhythmically, highlighted by a tumultuous scowl that carved itself deeper into his weathered face.

"Yup. I mean, technically you can," Ryu retorted with a glimmer of devilish delight in his eyes, a shrug rolling off his shoulders. "But then, I'll take Ace by force. And trust me, that won't be a pretty sight to behold."

With a casual flick of his fingers as though dispatching an inconsequential thought, Ryu made Ace vanish, only to reappear by Whitebeard's side.

Sengoku, a slight bewilderment adding to his vexation, questioned the theatrics, "Why did you even ask if you could've done that from the start?" His eyes squinted at Ryu.

"For fun." Ryu's lips curled into a triumphant smirk, the glint in his eyes intensifying as he delivered his reason.

At this, Yoruichi let out a chuckle before she quickly covered her mouth, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Truthfully, I want to kill you right now. It's a damn shame you're too powerful for that... Go away already, I won't pursue you if that's what you're worried about," Sengoku announced with frustration and anger oozing from his tone.