Buggy D Clown

"Don't be impulsive. Redfield only sent Garp back to the Empire. Do I really seem like the kind of person who would pit a friend against their friend's father in a deathmatch? Relax."

Just as Dragon surged into the sky, Buggy's voice echoed in his mind, clear and confident.

The storm in Dragon's expression faltered for a second.

Redfield, catching the hesitation, couldn't resist the chance to tease him. With a wry grin, he said, "Why the long face, Dragon? Are you planning to wrestle with an old man like me? Not to boast, but aside from Buggy and that woman, there's not a single one of you who can take me one-on-one."

His words were outrageous, but after the power Redfield displayed during his battle with Garp, even the boldest among them could not dismiss his claim outright.

"Tch."

From a distance, Sengoku let out a cold snort. "Redfield! What did you do to Garp?" he barked.

With a sharp clang, Momousagi drew her blade.

Gasps rippled through the watching forces. The sword in her hand shimmered with an obsidian sheen was a black blade.

A weapon only forged through battle mastery and supreme Haki.

No wonder her strength rivaled that of an Admiral. To turn a renowned sword into a black blade spoke of a level of swordsmanship and Armament mastery far beyond the average elite. She was, at the very least, a true great swordsman.

Even so, there were levels among the greats. All anyone had to do was look to the clash between Mihawk and Nusjuro in the distance.

Despite Nusjuro's Mythical Zoan power, Mihawk had driven him back, blow after blow.

The duel might not be over yet, but the direction of victory was already clear.

Dragon exhaled slowly and glanced at Redfield with a brief, amused smile before turning to face the three Five Elders standing across from him.

After Buggy's message, the fire burning in Dragon's chest cooled into sharp clarity.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he raised his voice across the chaotic battlefield.

"Gentlemen of the Gorosei... as the leader of the Revolutionary Army and the so-called most dangerous man alive, don't I deserve at least a sliver of formality?"

He lifted his arm, pointing toward the trio standing amid smoke and ruin.

"Surely one of you can face me. Or maybe two, if you're feeling brave. I wouldn't mind."

His gaze sharpened like lightning behind a storm cloud.

"If your horsefiend, Nusjuro, is the best you have to offer… then even two of you won't change the outcome."

The jab hit home.

One of the Elders stepped forward with a murderous glare. His hulking frame grew even larger as shadows swirled and crackled around his body.

"You impudent whelp," snarled Saint Topman Warcury, Supreme Commander of Legal Might among the Gorosei.

"Seraphim S-Lion. With me!"

The moment Warcury gave the command, the Seraphim roared into motion beside him. Then, Warcury's own body began to change sickeningly fast.

A ribbon of dark, flaming smoke coiled around his torso as he began to rise, his silhouette expanding like a storm cloud swelling with wrath. In seconds, his human form warped into something monstrous.

Feathers of hellfire burst into the air, tusks erupted like spears from his jaw, and the once-bald head now bore a demonic crown of ridged bone. He became a fengxi—the mythical demon boar.

His sheer size rivaled that of a battleship. Even the Red Line groaned beneath his hooves.

Guernica of CP0 swallowed hard and muttered under his breath, "Another Mythical Zoan... the World Government really keeping those close to themselves."

Redfield, hovering with lazy amusement, turned to Shanks with genuine curiosity. "What's that one called? Looks mean."

Shanks, arms folded, eyes narrowed. "Mythical Zoan. Fengxi Model. A demon boar said to rend mountains apart with its charge and pierce heaven with its roar."

Redfield snorted a laugh. "So Warcury's a divine war pig. That explains the smell."

Then, with a grin that never reached his eyes, he looked up at the other two Elders. "Let me guess. More beasts hiding under those robes? Honestly, this is starting to feel more like Kaido's old crew than the World's Highest Authority. You lot should get matching tattoos."

"Watch your mouth, Redfield!"

"You've gone too far!"

The other Gorosei flared with rage, but Redfield didn't flinch. He glanced at the woman in the sky, floating with a regal stillness, and saw it.

It had been more than eight hundred years since anyone had dared to provoke her so openly.

She lowered her eyes and gazed upon the frozen arc of Shanks' slash, still hanging midair. It had been suspended for an unnatural amount of time. Most had assumed it was merely a function of her strange ability.

But what happened next left everyone stunned.

"Kami no Gyakuten."

Her voice, calm and commanding, echoed like a decree across the battlefield. She moved her hand slightly.

The slash that Shanks had released with such fury twisted in midair and turned. Like a god's decree rewritten, the golden arc reversed its path and redirected itself, aimed now at Redfield in the sky.

Dragon, still at Redfield's side, felt the raw pressure of the strike, and his expression darkened. The sword light wasn't just powerful, it was the divine departure.

He didn't know how that woman had manipulated the attack, but he knew they had to handle it before it cut through the sky.

Golden scales shimmered into view across his right hand, the ancient power of the Fujin Dragon stirring within.

But before he could act, Redfield's voice rang beside him, low and eager."Could you leave it to me? This is my kind of fight. Shanks… your swordplay is starting to echo Roger's."

Dragon turned his head, eyes widening as Redfield smiled with wild delight.

He raised his black longsword, and his Conqueror's Haki surged, swirling along the blade's edge.

Dragon recognized the technique instantly.

It was the same move Redfield had used when he struck down his father.

On the battlefield below, Shanks gave a proud smile. There was no higher praise than being compared to Gol D. Roger.

"Fang of Dracul: Heaven's Rend."

Redfield's voice rang out as his blade carved through the air. A wave of black energy laced with crimson lightning exploded forward, colliding with the redirected slash from earlier.

The heavens cracked with sound.

A massive shockwave shook the air as the two forces clashed. The red arc of divine departure shattered in midair. Redfield's sword light, still intact, blazed upward and arced toward the sky, straight at the throne.

"Lord Imu!"

Warcury had just completed his transformation. His enormous boar form, armored in dark crimson hide with four-bladed tusks and burning shoulder flames, snorted as he prepared to leap into the air.

But before he could lift off, a streak of blue and gold plummeted from the sky like divine judgment.

A thunderous impact struck his right shoulder.

Boom.

The air split. The Red Line trembled.

Warcury was driven into the ground, his massive form crashing down with earth-shaking force.

Dust erupted. Rock cracked beneath his weight.

His red eyes widened in disbelief as he looked up and saw a gleaming golden claw pressing down on him.

The claw belonged to Dragon. He hovered above Warcury, his face half-shrouded in shimmering wind-forged scales. Lightning danced across his body like a storm brought to life.

A cold smirk curled Dragon's lips.

"Getting distracted in front of me? That's awfully bold of you."

Without another word, he twisted mid-air and drove his heel into Warcury's tusked head, the strike charged with roaring wind.

The blow exploded like a divine cannon.

Warcury's titanic frame, nearly the size of a giant's warship, was blasted across the Red Line. His tusks tore into the sacred earth, ripping deep scars as his body skidded through boulders, debris, and shattered temple stone.

He finally came to a halt, half-buried, growling in fury and disbelief.

To send a Five Elder, one wielding a Mythical Zoan, flying with a single strike... the world now saw the truth.

The most wanted man alive was far more than a revolutionary.

He was a storm god in human skin.

In that moment, the world finally witnessed the true might of the man branded as the most dangerous criminal alive.

Dragon's overwhelming strength was no longer a rumor whispered in dark alleys or rebel hideouts. It was now etched into the memories of every soul watching the battle unfold.

But it wasn't just his power that drew gasps.

When golden scales shimmered across Dragon's body, reflecting the sunlight like living armor, a single question struck countless minds at once.

Was the leader of the Revolutionary Army also a Mythical Zoan user?

Could it be… another rare Mythical Zoan?

Rarer than even the Logias, these fruits were seen as divine gifts granted not by chance, but by fate itself to those destined to reshape the world.

And now, on this battlefield of legends, no fewer than half a dozen wielders of such powers stood poised to clash.

The sky trembled with their presence. The seas below churned in reverent awe.

This was no longer a battle between factions.

It was a storm of mythical beasts, and the battlefield belonged to kings.

---

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