Conqueror's Haki Splits the Sky! Garp vs. Roger

The battlefield on God Valley had descended into complete chaos.

On the western front, Kaido held off three Navy rear admirals by himself, sweeping his iron club and driving them back step by step. More than a hundred Navy soldiers lay sprawled across the ground. Some were unconscious, some were groaning, and some had already stopped breathing.

On the southern front, Bullet and Kuma had joined forces and were pushing toward the Central High Ground. Several gaps had been torn in CP0's defensive line, and two members of the Holy Knights had been driven back. Bullet was covered in blood—mostly other people's. Dark red Conqueror's Haki lightning coiled around his fists. Though he had awakened it only recently and its range was limited to a dozen or so meters, its sheer force had already made the CP0 agents' legs go weak.

"Conqueror's Haki?!" a CP0 agent exclaimed. "This kid has Conqueror's Haki too?!"

Bullet didn't answer. He threw a punch, dark red lightning crackling through the air in its wake. The man flew backward, crashing through two trees.

On the northern front, Moria and King had only recently withdrawn, leaving nothing on the battlefield but shattered trees and CP agents sprawled across the ground. King had just awakened his Conqueror's Haki, and its violent dark red lightning still lingered in the air, like the aftermath of a storm.

On the eastern front, Kuma had already rescued more than three hundred civilians, sending them flying toward Hachinosu with his paw pads. Ginny was receiving them there. Each time a group arrived, she had people settle them in a safe area on the island.

But the real show had only just begun.

Atop an unnamed mountain in the center of the island.

Garp stood at the summit with his arms folded, his dog-head hat blown askew by the wind. His gaze swept across the battlefield, then rested for a moment on the three Celestial Dragons on the palace's viewing platform.

He frowned, but said nothing.

He was looking for Roger.

"Mr. Garp! The Roger Pirates have landed on the eastern side!" a Navy soldier reported as he ran up. "The Oro Jackson has already docked, and Roger himself came ashore with more than a dozen men!"

Garp's eyes lit up.

"Where?"

"To the east! They're heading toward the Central High Ground!"

Garp said nothing and turned east. He moved swiftly, each step making the ground tremble slightly. The soldier tried to follow, but Garp was too fast. Within a few breaths, he had vanished into the dense forest.

"Mr. Garp went after Roger alone?"

"He's enough on his own."

"But that's Roger..."

"That's why he has to go alone. Anyone else would just be throwing their life away."

To the east.

Roger emerged from the dense forest with more than a dozen crew members and headed toward the Central High Ground. He walked at an easy pace, as if out for a stroll, drinking from a bottle as he went.

"Captain, it looks like Garp's the only one coming from the Navy," Gaban said, walking beside Roger with an axe in his hand.

"One is enough." Roger took a swig. "Garp alone is more trouble than a thousand Navy men."

"And you still want to fight him?"

"I do." Roger smiled. "Why wouldn't I? We're already here."

No sooner had he spoken than a rapid series of footsteps came from the woods ahead. It wasn't one person, but many—no, it wasn't many people. It was one person. One person's footsteps sounded like an entire army on the march.

Roger stopped and handed Gaban the bottle.

"Hold this."

Gaban took the bottle and stepped back.

A tall figure emerged from the far end of the woods.

Garp.

He took off his dog-head hat, revealing his sharply chiseled face. His eyes weren't crinkled with their usual smile. They were sharp as knives, sharp as an eagle's, like a predator that had fixed its sights on its prey.

"Roger."

"Garp." Roger grinned. "You came after me after all."

"Obviously." Garp clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking. "Wherever you are, that's where I'll be."

"You really don't know when to quit."

"Right back at you."

The two looked at each other and laughed at the same time.

It wasn't the laughter of friends, nor was it the laughter of enemies. It was the laughter of two men at the pinnacle who had finally found their match.

"Want to fight?" Roger asked.

"Let's fight," Garp said.

Roger drew the sword at his waist. No Haki coated it, and its blade gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

Garp clenched his fists. They weren't coated in Haki either—or at least, they didn't appear to be.

They moved at the same time.

Roger's sword was as fast as lightning, stabbing toward Garp's throat. Garp twisted aside and drove a fist at Roger's face. Roger ducked, sweeping his blade toward Garp's waist.

Both men moved too fast for the naked eye to follow. Rayleigh stood at a distance, his eyes narrowed to slits—he could see them, but only with difficulty. The ordinary Navy soldiers and Roger's crew couldn't make out what the two were doing at all. They could only see two afterimages darting through the woods and hear the clash of metal and the dull thuds of fists meeting flesh.

"Clang!"

Sword and fist collided.

No, not sword and fist. Sword and Armament Haki. Garp's fist was coated in pitch-black Armament Haki, the hardened layer so thick it looked like a black glove. Roger's sword was coated in the same black Haki, its blade sharp enough to cut through steel.

The two held each other at bay for an instant.

Then both their gazes changed.

Conqueror's Haki.

It wasn't Conqueror's Haki like Lin Yuan's, which covered three hundred meters, nor the violent Conqueror's Haki King had only just awakened. It was the Conqueror's Haki the two men released at the same time, crashing together with enough force to tear the sky apart.

Dark red lightning exploded from both men at once.

The two waves of Conqueror's Haki collided in the air like two towering waves crashing head-on, sending dark red lightning bursting across the sky. Lightning spread in every direction. Trees within a five-hundred-meter radius snapped in unison, the ground cracked, and stones flew. The Navy soldiers and Roger's crew watching from afar were knocked over by the blast. Some fainted on the spot, while others covered their ears and screamed.

The sky split open.

It wasn't a metaphor. It had truly split open.

The shock wave of Conqueror's Haki tore a vast rift through the dense black clouds. Sunlight poured through it like a golden sword thrust down between the two men. The clouds along the edges of the rift continued to churn, pushed farther apart by the lingering Haki.

In the distance.

Sengoku stood in the command room with a telescope in his hand. The moment he saw the sky split open, his hand trembled, and he nearly dropped the telescope.

"Garp... is fighting Roger again."

Tsuru stood beside him, holding a teacup, her expression calm. "Let them fight. We couldn't stop them anyway."

"I'm not trying to stop them." Sengoku lowered the telescope. "I'm worried they'll tear the island apart."

"Then let them. God Valley isn't our territory anyway."

Sengoku glanced at her but didn't argue.

On the palace's viewing platform, the three Celestial Dragons also saw the spectacle of the sky splitting open.

"Fuffuffuffu... Was that Conqueror's Haki?" Saint Charlos set down his wineglass and narrowed his eyes. "Garp's and Roger's?"

"Interesting." Saint Rosward smiled. "Let them fight. If one dies, that's one less to worry about."

Saint Mjosgard said nothing. His gaze shifted from the split sky to the sea, where a massive pirate ship was coming ashore. The Rocks Pirates' skull flag was painted on its sail, with two crossed bone marks on the skull, looking fierce and imposing.

"Rocks's ship." Saint Mjosgard's voice was a little strained.

"Rocks?" Saint Charlos frowned. "That madman came too?"

"He did." Saint Rosward stood and walked to the edge of the viewing platform to look down. "And not just Rocks. Golden Lion, Whitebeard, Big Mom... they're all here."

The three Celestial Dragons exchanged looks. Their arrogance gave way to gravity, but they still didn't run. In their view of the world, no one had ever dared lay a hand on a Celestial Dragon. The guards would take care of everything. The Navy would take care of everything. The World Government would take care of everything.

They sat there and waited.

Elsewhere.

The Roger Pirates' crew stood at a distance, watching the fight.

Gaban hooked Roger's bottle onto his belt and whistled at the split sky. "Every time I watch those two fight, it feels like the sky's about to fall."

"It doesn't just feel that way. It really has fallen." Rayleigh adjusted his glasses and looked up at the rift. "Even I haven't seen Conqueror's Haki clash to this extent more than a few times."

"Can the captain win?"

"No," Rayleigh said. "Neither can Garp. Those two can't beat each other."

Gaban sighed. "Then why bother fighting?"

"They're fighting for the sky to see," Rayleigh said. "On this sea, Garp is the only one who can fight Roger to a draw. The same goes the other way around. They're fighting their match."

In the distance, Garp and Roger both stepped back, putting some distance between them.

Roger looked down at his blade. A chip the size of a grain of rice had been knocked into its edge by Garp's fist. He frowned, then smiled.

"Hahahaha... Your fists are harder than last time."

"And your sword's duller than last time." Garp flexed his wrist. "Getting old?"

"You're the one getting old." Roger sheathed his sword at his waist. "Let's change weapons. Fist against fist."

"Just what I wanted."

Both men withdrew their Armament Haki, clenched their fists, and charged at each other at the same time.

No Haki, no Devil Fruit powers, no weapons.

Pure boxing.

Fist against fist.

"Bang!"

Their fists collided with a dull thud. Neither man retreated, and both threw a second punch.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Punch after punch, the two fought like machines that would never stop, trading blows with neither giving way. The wind from their fists sent loose stones flying, and their feet stamped deep craters into the ground.

"Huff... huff..." Roger panted, a smile still on his lips.

"Huff... huff..." Garp was panting too. A faint streak of blood marked the bridge of his nose, cut by the wind from Roger's fist.

"That's about enough," Roger said.

"That's about enough," Garp said.

Both lowered their fists and stepped back three paces.

"We'll fight again next time," Roger said.

"Next time, we'll settle it for sure," Garp said.

They looked at each other, then turned away at the same time.

Roger and his crew continued toward the Central High Ground. His destination was the prize warehouse, where two more fruits were waiting for him to join in the fun—though he wasn't short of fruits, he couldn't miss the excitement.

Garp stood where he was and flexed his fists, which had been beaten numb. He didn't pursue Roger. Instead, he turned and walked in another direction—also toward the prize warehouse.

The two had the same goal, but they weren't taking the same path.

Rayleigh watched Roger's retreating back, then looked at Garp's and murmured, "Those two will turn this sea upside down sooner or later."

Gaban didn't hear him. He had already run ahead to catch up with Roger.

In the distance.

Sengoku lowered his telescope and rubbed his temples.

"It's over?"

"It's over," Tsuru said. "Neither of them won."

"They'll never settle it." Sengoku turned to the nautical chart. "But what's happening on God Valley isn't over yet."

He glanced toward the palace. The three Celestial Dragons were still sitting on the viewing platform, waiting for Rocks to arrive.

Sengoku said nothing.

He simply put the telescope back on the table.

(End of Chapter 39)