Drip... drip...

At some point, the rain began to ease.

The once chaotic battlefield fell into sudden silence the moment that figure appeared.

It might have been an illusion, but the Marines—who had only just gathered the nerve to raise their weapons against Zephyr under Sengoku's ruthless orders—seemed to crumble inside the instant they saw the Vice Admiral descend from the sky. They let out quiet sighs of relief, as if a weight had been lifted.

A subtle sense of gratitude spread through their hearts.

They gasped for breath like drowning men reaching the surface, their eyes fixed on the tall figure slowly landing before them, eyes filled with complicated emotion.

Because deep down, none of them could imagine what it would've meant to actually attack their former mentor today—how unbearable their lives would've become afterward.

In a way, Daren had saved them.

"Talk about perfect timing..."

Borsalino's lips curled into a faintly amused smirk, his sunglasses hiding a teasing glint.

Kuzan's fists clenched tight. His face flushed red with emotion as he looked at Daren, who had arrived just in time, his whole body trembling uncontrollably.

Sakazuki pressed his lips into a line, but the fists inside his black leather gloves quietly loosened.

"Daren..."

Sengoku stared fixedly at the figure ahead, his expression flickering.

Daren's boots landed with a splash, crushing the rainwater pooled on the shattered ground.

Above Marineford, four gleaming Meito swords now hovered silently, their blades motionless but menacing—like scythes wielded by the Reaper himself, hanging ominously above every Marine's head.

But the Vice Admiral didn't spare so much as a glance at Sengoku or the thousands of Marines standing ready for combat.

Instead, he simply turned and looked at the purple-haired old man, who was panting heavily in the cold rain, white mist spilling from his mouth.

No one dared move.

Everyone here had witnessed the horror on Philseque Island. They had seen it with their own eyes—how this Marine monster had torn through the Five Elders, the highest authority in the World Government.

The entire world knew Rogers Daren never forgave or forgot.

They had tried to harm his wife and child—whether by duty or circumstance didn't matter. For that alone, Daren had a hundred reasons to kill them all.

So the scene shifted into something strange.

The battlefield was eerily silent. Not even the Marines dared to breathe too loudly.

Two figures—one old, one young—stood apart, facing each other from a distance.

"You've gotten stronger, you little brat."

Zephyr looked Daren up and down, a proud smile slowly forming on his face.

Daren glanced at the stump where Zephyr's arm used to be, then at the blood-soaked shirt. He paused for a moment before replying quietly,

"But you've gotten weaker, old man."

Zephyr threw back his head and laughed heartily.

"It's just an arm. You should've seen my opponent... the bastard lost his head! Hahahaha!!"

That raspy but thunderous laughter cut through the storm like a blade. The calm and ease in his voice struck a chord in everyone's heart.

But Daren didn't smile.

He stood quietly in the rain, staring at the old man before him and asked,

"CP0, from the combat division?"

Zephyr shook his head, straightening his back with pride.

"Not just any CP0. It was the strongest shield of the Celestial Dragons—the very top tier of CP0."

Daren was silent for a moment, then nodded.

"I'll remember that."

A small iron box appeared in his hand, and with casual ease, he tossed it to Zephyr.

The motion was relaxed, as if he were handing over a cigar.

But Sengoku's expression changed instantly. His pupils shrank to pinpoints.

"What is that?"

Zephyr caught the box and frowned.

Daren answered flatly,

"During the World Noble Hunting Tournament on Philseque Island, over 500 elite Celestial Dragons hunted civilians to get this."

"This was the tournament's final prize... the Fuwa Fuwa no Mi."

At those words, Zephyr froze.

The Fuwa Fuwa no Mi!?

The Devil Fruit that once belonged to Shiki the Golden Lion?

Before he could respond, Daren lifted a finger. A crackle of blue lightning surged over the box in Zephyr's hands. The lid slowly opened.

Inside lay a golden, pineapple-shaped fruit, etched with swirling cloud patterns—its surface gleaming faintly in the rain.

In an instant, everyone on the field held their breath. Their eyes lit up with barely restrained heat.

The Fuwa Fuwa no Mi!

One of the most powerful Paramecia-type Devil Fruits in the world.

Its former wielder, Shiki the "Flying Pirate," had nearly conquered the New World with its power. He even came close to sinking Marineford into the sea.

Even putting aside its legendary past, just the core ability—"floating"—made its value immeasurable.

Otherwise, the self-righteous Celestial Dragons would've never chosen it as the ultimate prize for their blood-soaked tournament.

Yet, even when faced with such a powerful and precious Devil Fruit, Zephyr gave it only a brief glance...

And then looked away.

He looked at Daren, his tone grave.

"Daren, given the situation... you need the power of the Fuwa Fuwa no Mi more than I do."

The Fuwa Fuwa no Mi held immeasurable strategic value. Daren was about to face the most powerful and terrifying force in the world. With this Devil Fruit, the pressure on him might ease—if only slightly.

But Daren shook his head, voice steady and firm.

"No. I can't entrust this Devil Fruit to anyone else."

"You're the only one I can trust with it... Please, Zephyr-sensei."

Zephyr fell silent.

What he saw in Daren's eyes was unshakable determination—beyond doubt or hesitation.

"I see. I understand now."

He slowly exhaled, a heavy breath leaving his chest.

Then, a flicker of decisiveness sparked in his aged eyes as he reached out and grabbed the Devil Fruit from the box.

"No!"

Sengoku's expression changed drastically.

"Stop him—!"

But before he could finish, four sharp beams of light tore through the air with terrifying force, blasting toward him.

Sengoku's eyes twitched violently. In a flash, he transformed into his massive golden Buddha form, crossing his arms—now clad in Armament Haki—in front of his chest!

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

The four Meito swords struck his arms like jet-powered missiles, slamming into him and launching his colossal frame hundreds of meters back.

As his eyes went wide and the Marines around him cried out in shock...

Zephyr shoved the Fuwa Fuwa no Mi into his mouth!

Shhk!

Juice burst from the corners of his lips. His expression stiffened instantly.

Fighting the urge to retch, he gritted his teeth and swallowed the fruit's flesh in one gulp.

The moment he did, a surge of heat erupted in his gut, rushing straight into his chest.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

His heart pounded violently, as if jolted by raw power.

Bulging veins began to crawl across his forehead, neck, and arms, pulsing with intensity.

Then...

Something unbelievable happened.

Under the stunned gaze of the Marines...

The gravel at Zephyr's feet began to tremble—then slowly, it started to lift off the ground.

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