The two traded blows, their battle growing fiercer. Whitebeard's attacks were fierce and powerful,
each swing of his naginata carrying tremendous force, as though it could cleave the earth;
Roger's attacks, meanwhile, were agile and varied. His swordsmanship was masterful, each slash finding an opening in Whitebeard's defenses with precision.
The entire deserted island trembled in the shock waves of their battle, and the sea surged into waves dozens of feet high.
After a fierce battle, both men still had plenty of stamina, though each had sustained some injuries.
They stopped and looked at each other, a trace of admiration in both their eyes.
Roger put away his sword and said to Whitebeard, "Newgate, I came here to ask you a favor."
Whitebeard snorted, displeasure showing on his face. "Whatever it is, we can talk after we finish fighting!"
Roger shook his head, his expression turning serious, a trace of helplessness and resolve in his eyes:
"No, this is important. I have a terminal illness. The doctor said I only have two years left to live."
"What?" Shock flashed through Whitebeard's eyes. He had never expected Roger to say something like that.
A complicated mix of emotions welled up inside him, including surprise,
but also a hint of understanding. He had never expected Kakarot to be right.
Roger continued, "I've been on countless adventures in my life,
but I still have one unfulfilled wish: to reach the final island, Laugh Tale, and uncover the truth of the world.
Oden can read the Poneglyphs. He's the key to fulfilling that wish.
I want him to join my ship and help me achieve this dream."
Whitebeard's face darkened at those words. He gripped his naginata tightly, intense displeasure in his eyes:
"No. Oden belongs to my crew. He's my family, and I