The eastern ridge fell silent.
The mountain wind still swept through the shattered stone, carrying frost and dust across the battlefield, but the defeated giants had ceased their groans. Even the deep creaking of damaged trees seemed to fade as Giovanni and Dracule Mihawk looked at one another for the first time in three years.
Giovanni stood near the centre of the broken plateau, one hand resting loosely beside Ace.
Mihawk remained several dozen yards away, framed beneath the bright moon with Yoru held at his side. Around him lay the eleven elite warriors of Elbaf, their colossal bodies scattered across the fractured ridge like fallen towers.
None were dead. Giovanni noticed that immediately.
The wounds were meticulously controlled. Heavy weapons had been severed at exact structural joints. Giant nerve clusters had been struck without shattering bone. Even the terrain had been cut with enough precision to collapse their battle formations rather than the giants themselves. It was unmistakably Mihawk's handiwork: clean, absolute, and executed without a single wasted motion.
The scar across Giovanni's chest began to throb beneath his torn coat.
Mihawk's gaze travelled over him with the same cold, calculating attention he might give a blade before purchase, studying Giovanni's footing first. Three years earlier, Giovanni's stance had been far too eager; his weight had leaned subtly forward, every muscle announcing how desperately he wanted to attack. He had possessed talent, power, and a collection of techniques far beyond his age, but all of it had been carried by a body that confused raw aggression with true readiness.
That had changed. Giovanni now stood with his centre perfectly balanced, his shoulders relaxed and his weight distributed so smoothly that he could move in any direction without preparation. The Haki around him was not spilling wildly into the night despite the hunger burning behind his eyes. It was not perfectly controlled, but it was vastly different.
Mihawk's gaze lowered to the diagonal scar visible beneath the open coat. The mark had healed, yet it remained permanent proof of their first meeting.
Then Mihawk looked at the weapon at his waist: Ace, Gol D. Roger's Supreme Grade cutlass. The golden guard and dark scabbard caught the moonlight as Giovanni's fingers settled near the hilt.
Mihawk's eyes narrowed by a fraction. "You changed blades."
Giovanni's grin appeared immediately. "My old one couldn't keep up with me."
The answer came smoothly, but the ghost of an old insecurity remained beneath it. Giovanni could still remember standing on that ruined deck with his inherited saber shattered and blood filling his lungs, listening to Mihawk explain every flaw as though correcting a beginner's exercise. In his first life, defeat had often sent him searching for excuses or another fight to erase the humiliation. Reincarnation had given him a new body and another chance, but it had not removed that core human drive. He had simply learned to dress it in better words.
Giovanni glanced over the eleven fallen giants. "You crossed an island full of warriors just to lose to me?"
Mihawk's expression did not shift. "Shanks said you had reached our level."
The words struck deeper than Giovanni allowed his face to show.
Mihawk lifted Yoru slightly, its edge casting a narrow shadow across the snow. "I came to correct either his judgment or your posture."
Giovanni barked a short laugh. "That red-haired bastard has always been generous."
"No," Mihawk replied without hesitation. "He is rarely careless when discussing strength."
That carried far more weight than open praise ever could. Shanks and Mihawk had fought often enough to understand one another's limits intimately. Their rivalry existed beyond reputation, bounty posters, or the claims of frightened spectators. If Shanks had told Mihawk that Giovanni was approaching their tier, the swordsman would not dismiss it. He would verify it personally.
Giovanni's grin sharpened. "Then you must have been worried."
Mihawk looked at him. "About what?"
"That I might take claim the title of World's Strongest Swordsman before."
A faint breeze shifted the feather on Mihawk's hat. "You still speak too much."
Several of the conscious giants stared between them. Hajrudin lay partially buried beneath fragments of Bjorn's shield, unable to move his left arm. He had expected hostility when Giovanni arrived, perhaps even rage at finding Elbaf's warriors laid low. Instead, the two humans spoke like men resuming an argument paused only yesterday. There was unmistakable danger in the exchange, but there was also mutual recognition.
Mihawk's attention returned to Giovanni's stance. The young swordsman's Haki was far denser now. He could sense the thick layers of Armament held close beneath Giovanni's skin and the enormous Conqueror's power restrained behind deliberate control. The sharpness of his Observation suggested a deeper evolution as well.
Future Sight. Not as effortless as the truly experienced masters, but unmistakably present.
"You learned to see ahead," Mihawk observed.
Giovanni raised an eyebrow. "You noticed before I even used it?"
"Your eyes move before the world does."
The comment made Giovanni's fingers tighten slightly around Ace. Mihawk caught the reaction instantly. Three years of growth, and the man still made him feel as though every hidden flaw had been exposed under a harsh lamp.
Giovanni exhaled through his nose. 'Calm,' he reminded himself, anchoring his mind in Gaban's lesson. 'He is not the storm. I am.'
The atmospheric pressure around Giovanni narrowed. The faint black sparks that had begun crackling near Ace's hilt vanished back into his body.
Mihawk's gaze sharpened by a fraction; that minor adjustment was all it took for Giovanni to know the change had been noted and evaluated.
"Are you going to keep inspecting me?" Giovanni asked. "Or did you bring that oversized kitchen knife for a reason?"
Mihawk lowered Yoru into a ready stance. "You carry Roger's blade."
"Shanks gave it to me."
"Then show me whether either of you understood its weight."
Giovanni's smile faded. His thumb pressed against Ace's guard, and the sharp click of steel leaving the scabbard sounded clear across the ridge.
Mihawk adjusted his grip.
The defeated giants watched without breathing. No signal was given, and no declaration was needed. Giovanni began drawing Ace as Mihawk lifted Yoru into the moonlight.
Then the moon vanished behind a massive descending shadow.
Future Sight flashed. Giovanni saw the next three seconds in rapid fragments: an enormous blade plunging from above, the ridge splitting under the impact, and Prince Loki crashing into the centre of their duel.
'You have got to be kidding me.'
Giovanni launched himself backward, the air exploding beneath his boots as Sky Walk carried him out of the impact zone.
Loki fell from the heights of Yggdrasil with both hands wrapped around his colossal greatsword. Red-black Conqueror's Haki coiled wildly around the steel, turning the weapon into a descending wall of metal and lightning aimed at both humans.
"DO NOT IGNORE ME!"
The greatsword crashed down.
Mihawk did not leap away. He simply raised Yoru with one hand.
The difference in scale was absurd. Loki's weapon was broad enough to crush houses beneath its flat, while Mihawk stood below it like a dark speck on the ridge.
CLANG!
Black lightning erupted across the plateau. The ground beneath Mihawk's boots fractured, but his arm did not bend. He had not caught Loki's strike head-on at its centre; Yoru met the giant blade along a precise angle near the point where the prince's momentum had committed too heavily to change course.
Mihawk's Haki flowed through the contact point with absolute control. Rather than absorbing the full blow directly, he redirected it. The enormous sword slid down Yoru's edge and smashed into the ridge beside him, stone erupting in a vast ring that opened an impact crater large enough to swallow an entire town square.
Giovanni landed beyond the debris, his coat snapping around him in the gale.
Loki stood inside the crater, towering over both humans. His damaged crown sat crooked on his head, one side shattered from Giovanni's earlier slash. The remains of his cape hung in strips from his shoulders, and raw fury twisted his features.
He glared at Giovanni first. "You dare walk away from me."
Giovanni stared up at the giant prince. "Yes."
The simple answer made Loki's eye twitch.
Then Mihawk spoke. "Noise."
The word carried no anger and no mockery. Mihawk dismissed the prince as though Loki's grand entry were merely an annoying sound interrupting a conversation.
For several seconds, Loki did not seem to process what had been said. Then the ridge shook beneath the sudden flare of his Haki. "What did you call me?"
Mihawk lowered Yoru. "Noise."
Loki's jaw tightened hard enough for blood to seep near his gums. "I am Prince Loki of Elbaf! Future ruler of Warland! No human enters my kingdom, strikes my warriors, and then ignores me on my own soil!"
Mihawk looked toward Giovanni instead. "Does he always interrupt?"
Giovanni's irritation nearly overcame his amusement. "He followed me from underground because his pride can't survive being left alone for five minutes."
Loki pointed the tip of his giant sword toward him. "You ran from our battle!"
"I found a better fight."
The answer produced a fresh burst of crimson lightning around Loki's shoulders.
Giovanni drew Ace fully, letting the supreme blade rest against his shoulder. "Go back to Ida."
Loki's face darkened, but Giovanni pressed on before the prince could bellow.
"This is my duel. You're already in enough trouble without addingmy duel to it."
"You think I care about that old woman's punishment?"
From somewhere far beneath the mountain, a distant, reverberating roar echoed up through the shafts. Sounding suspiciously like Ida shouting Loki's full name.
The prince's expression flickered.
Giovanni caught it immediately. "So you do hear her."
"SHUT UP!"
Loki swung at him. The greatsword swept horizontally across the ridge, dragging a roaring gale behind it. Giovanni launched upward with Sky Walk, passing cleanly over the blade as it sheared through the rock beneath him.
Loki twisted immediately and sent the returning swing toward Mihawk.
Yoru rose. The black blade deflected the enormous steel by another exact angle, driving the attack upward through a shelf of rock instead of toward the defeated giants lying nearby.
Mihawk's eyes remained icy. "You lack discipline."
Loki roared and drove forward, attacking both men in the same relentless sequence. His sword descended toward Mihawk while one enormous boot swept toward Giovanni. The prince's sheer size allowed him to threaten vast sections of the plateau at once, and his natural combat instincts adjusted rapidly after each failed strike.
Giovanni caught the side of Loki's boot with his free hand. The impact drove him several feet back through the air, but his arm held firm. Twisting his hips, Giovanni threw the colossal limb off-line, throwing Loki's balance directly toward Mihawk.
Mihawk stepped smoothly onto the flat of the descending greatsword. He ran three light steps along the steel, bringing Yoru up toward Loki's shoulder.
At the same time, Giovanni arrived from the opposite flank, Ace coated in dense Armament and crackling Conqueror's Haki.
Loki saw both attacks coming. His wild grin returned. "COME, THEN!"
The prince ripped his weapon upward between them, raw Conqueror's coating exploding along the edge.
Mihawk turned Yoru. Giovanni brought Ace down.
Three blades met beneath the moon. Ace, Yoru, and the greatsword of Prince Loki, and black lightning tore across the moonlit mist.
---
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