Chapter 39

2 PM, Marineford Arena.

The "Arena" was actually a large square behind Navy HQ, not some underground fighting pit. Marineford had plenty of squares - some for training, some for meetings. But this one? Pure combat.

No one remembered its original name anymore. Now, it was just "the Arena." And for good reason.

It was perfect for fights. Open space, far from populated areas. To the east, the town was miles away. No nearby buildings, separate from HQ. The Navy couldn't have asked for a better sparring ground. No matter how wild things got, civilians were safe.

In the center sat a thin figure, cross-legged, a long sword across his lap. Hansa breathed slowly, deep in concentration.

To Hansa's left, in the stands, stood a group of officials. There were referees, but also former Admiral like Zephyr, Borsalino, and Sakazuki. Even the Navy hero, "Fist" Garp, was there.

The past couple years had been quiet in the One Piece world. The Four Emperors were laying low, the Seven Warlords were behaving, and no rookie pirates had stirred up trouble like when Luffy first set sail. Branch offices could handle most issues, leaving the bigwigs with free time.

Word of Loya's duel with Elite Squad member Bibi Hansa had spread. Borsalino had invited his Admiral buddies to watch, along with the refs. His goal was clear - showcase Loya to the Navy's top brass, paving the way for his future.

Borsalino and Loya got along well. Loya felt close to the first person he'd met in this world. Since Loya had a chance to shine, Borsalino was happy to help. Even without friendship, as Zephyr's disciples, they looked out for each other.

As the clock struck two, Hansa's eyes snapped open. He looked towards the fortress.

A second later, Garp, Zephyr, and the others sensed Loya approaching.

Surprised, Garp asked, "Hey Zephyr, since when could Hansa sense things that far?"

Zephyr nodded. "It's like when you hunted Roger. That fighter's intuition, you know?"

Garp scratched his head. "Eh, it wasn't that dramatic."

A figure zoomed through the air, landing silently in the arena's center.

"Didn't expect the Elite Squad to have such a prodigy," a deep voice rumbled. "Must be their best in years."

"Looks like it, Borsalino. That's Loya?"

The speaker was a bearded man chomping a cigar. His cloak marked him as another Admiral - Sakazuki from HQ.

Borsalino frowned, hands clasped. "That's him alright... but what's with those injuries? We agreed on this duel. Why didn't he rest up?"

Sakazuki grunted, squinting. Sure enough, Loya looked rough.

His once-clean recruit shirt was caked with mud, slashed in places. Through the tears, you could see deep, bloody gashes underneath.

Loya's baby face had hardened with training, but now it was marred by scrapes and bruises. His left ring finger bent at an unnatural angle - clearly broken.

Zephyr's face darkened. "Loya! Who attacked you?"

His eyes unfocused, arm muscles twitching - signs of extreme anger. In Zephyr's mind, only an Admiral-level fighter could've done this to Loya. Who would dare rough up his star pupil?

"Attacked?" Loya winced as he spoke, the chest wounds flaring with pain.

He held up a hand to stop Zephyr. After a few breaths, he straightened. "No one attacked me. I just... took on your whole Elite Squad, Teacher. Got a bit banged up, but don't worry."

"The whole... Elite Squad?" Zephyr's eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean all of them?"

"Of course! One-on-one, who do you think could hurt me like this, Teacher?" Loya grinned, showing off his pearly whites.

The audience exploded into chatter. The gathered Admirals looked stunned.

"All of them? That's..."

Sakazuki shook his head. Even if this batch wasn't the strongest, they were still the Elite Squad - hand-picked from the best recruits.

Most of the Admirals present had come through Zephyr's Elite Squad. They knew exactly what these kids were capable of. To civilians, every member was a monster.

Hearing Loya's claim, they were surprised... and a bit skeptical.

But then Tony and the others limped into view, and everyone fell silent.

Compared to Loya, they looked even worse.

Every one of them was wounded. Some hobbled on crutches or leaned on friends. Blood seeped through bandages, and cold sweat beaded on their faces with each painful step.

Aludo, the 13-foot-tall mini-giant, was sprawled on a makeshift cart pushed by his less injured buddies. Jerome's arm hung in a thick, half-set cast.

"Thought you guys would be stuck in the infirmary. Didn't expect you to be up and about," Loya said, turning with a grin.

Tony shoved aside Simon, who was trying to support him. Leaning on his scabbard, he hobbled to the arena's edge and painfully climbed up.

Loya watched, puzzled.

Tony reached Loya and pulled out a roll of bandages. "Wrap up. Your wounds'll open."

Loya stared at the bandages, then suddenly slapped them away. "Don't need 'em! This was my choice!"

He paused, glancing at Hansa. "Besides, even beat up like this, you really think Hansa can take me?"

Tony gaped, then gave up.

Zephyr was piecing it together now.

Everyone in the Elite Squad knew Loya's strength. The veterans knew Hansa didn't stand a chance.

Usually, they'd be joking around, waiting for the duel to end so they could tease the loser. But Hansa's body might give out at any moment. He could die.

For these recruits, a comrade's death wasn't something they could ignore.

Since they couldn't stop the duel, Tony and the others chose another method: weaken Loya.

For some reason, they just wanted Hansa to win.

"You... didn't refuse?" Zephyr's eyes bored into Loya.

There was no way Loya hadn't understood his comrades' intentions. For the sake of friendship, he'd not only accepted their challenge but asked to face them all at once.

The entire Elite Squad!

The clash of steel rang out, making everyone in the audience tense up.

Hansa had barely managed to block Loya's attack. If he'd been a fraction slower, those razor-sharp claws would've pierced his neck.

Realizing a sneak attack wouldn't work, Loya twisted in midair, dodging the burst of sword pressure from Hansa's blade. He knew going head-to-head with a swordsman of equal strength wasn't smart.

In a flash, Loya appeared at Hansa's side. Three silvery-white vacuum slashes materialized, aimed at Hansa from point-blank range.

"Wolf Fang - Three Moons!" Loya snarled.

Hansa's eyes widened. He recognized the move instantly - it was one of Loya's signature techniques.

But Hansa wasn't about to go down without a fight. His sword blurred as he parried frantically, deflecting two of the slashes. The third caught him across the shoulder, drawing blood.

From the sidelines, Zephyr watched with a mix of awe and concern. These two were really going all out. He'd known both of them for years, but he'd never seen them fight with such intensity before.

"Come on, Hansa," he muttered under his breath. "Show us what you've got."

The battle was far from over. As the dust settled, both fighters squared off again, eyes locked in fierce determination. This was more than just a match now - it was a clash of ideals, of dreams. And neither one was willing to back down.