The opening was still there. Yoru was raised high, leaving Mihawk's lower line briefly exposed.
Every instinct honed over three years of obsession urged Giovanni to drive Ace straight through that opening, to force Mihawk to retreat or bleed.
Instead, Giovanni pivoted on his heel.
The image from that final heartbeat still burned behind his eyes. If he took Mihawk's opening, the falling shelf would reach Hajrudin and Stansen first. Neither giant was in any condition to clear the ledge in time.
Giovanni killed his charge toward Mihawk and turned for the falling shelf, abandoning the duel.
Kicking the atmospheric pressure beneath his boots with a sharp detonation of Sky Walk, Giovanni spun toward the descending shadow. Ace cleared its arc in a tight, hyper-pressurized crescent. He didn't unleash an unbridled storm of Haki; he shaped the attack with surgical efficiency, sending a dense, razor-thin flying slash upward into the heart of the falling mountain.
SHING.
Ace cut upward on a hard diagonal. The flying slash split the shelf off-center and kicked the two halves apart, sending them past opposite sides of the ledge.
Both crashed into the ravines below with a deafening, thunderous reverberation that shook the mountain to its core.
Neither giant spoke at first. Hajrudin stared at the empty space where the rock shelf had been, then at Giovanni. The human had every reason to leave them to Elbaf's judgment. Hajrudin himself had stood among the warriors who hunted him across the island, convinced that obeying the elders made their actions righteous. Yet Giovanni had thrown away the opening he had wanted for years without once asking whether they deserved saving.
Stansen slowly lowered his bruised arm. Around them, several of the fallen warriors had seen it too. No boast followed. Giovanni did not even look toward them for gratitude.
Shame settled across Stansen's face with the dust.
"He chose to save us," he murmured.
Hajrudin said nothing. There was nothing he could say yet.
Dust swept over the eastern ledge. Giovanni remained above the ledge for another heartbeat before touching down on the cracked granite. Down below, Mihawk's arms slowly lowered Yoru. His golden eyes remained fixed on Giovanni. There was no mockery in Mihawk's gaze, only a sharp, analytical scrutiny that weighed Giovanni's choice on a scale far heavier than mere pride.
A ragged roar split the dust cloud.
Loki tore his greatsword free of the fractured ridge and heaved it overhead. To Loki, Giovanni turning away could only mean one thing: retreat.
"YOU TURN YOUR BACK ON ME TOO?!" Loki screamed.
Loki brought his giant greatsword down in a brutal, sweeping ambush aimed directly at Giovanni's exposed spine. The displacement of air alone dragged loose gravel toward the descending edge.
Giovanni felt the massive threat behind him, his body tightening to twist and block—
CLANG!!!!!
A shockwave of raw kinetic force detonated across the plateau. The sheer sonic boom tore through the airborne dust, instantly clearing the air between them.
Yoru met Loki's greatsword edge-on at a shallow angle. Mihawk turned his wrist and let Loki's own momentum drag the giant blade sideways past Giovanni before its edge buried itself in the ridge hard enough to split the granite.
Giovanni glanced over his shoulder, caught off guard.
Loki gnashed his teeth, his massive forearms trembling as he tried to yank his weapon free from the shattered rock. "You damn human! Why?!"
Mihawk didn't answer immediately. He slowly lifted his golden gaze to the giant prince, staring with a look so utterly devoid of warmth that Loki's breath caught in his chest.
"I didn't save him," Mihawk said, his voice clear, cold, and razor-sharp. "I saved the duel."
Mihawk lowered Yoru to his side, his posture immaculate.
"Anyone incapable of seeing what his swing will kill has no right to wield a blade."
Loki flinched, his face twisting with bitter rage. He gripped his sword hilt until his knuckles turned white.
Giovanni's breath caught. His fingers tightened around Ace until the leather creaked. Mihawk had aimed the rebuke at Loki, but Giovanni knew exactly why it hurt.
He remembered the ruins beneath Dressrosa collapsing around his final clash with Katakuri. Giovanni had poured everything into Conquest and trusted the battlefield to survive the result. The ceiling had come down anyway.
That same blindness was standing in front of him now.
Frustration flared in Giovanni's chest.
'He's doing it again,' Gio thought, his jaw clenching. The whole damn mountain is moving to his rhythm. Even now, I'm still fighting the fight he wants.
Gio's internal composure faltered. The red-black Conqueror's Haki that had flared throughout the fight began to burst outward again in jagged arcs of thunder, cracking the earth beneath his feet.
Mihawk's golden eyes flicked toward Giovanni's flaring aura, a neutral, familiar disappointment settling into his face.
'Come on,' Gio thought bitterly. 'Look at me properly.'
Then Gaban's voice returned from the quiet valley beneath Elbaf's enormous roots, where Ripley had tightened fresh bandages around Giovanni's battered body.
"A real king doesn't throw tantrums, boy," Gaban had growled. "You stop trying to conquer your enemy with anger. You conquer yourself first."
Giovanni closed his eyes.
He took a slow, deep breath, pulling the freezing mountain air deep into his lungs.
He stopped trying to force the fight into his rhythm. He stopped trying to match Mihawk's presence. He stopped letting Loki's chaos dictate his heartbeat.
You conquer yourself first.
Giovanni opened his eyes. The thrum of anger in his gaze was gone, replaced by a still, quiet focus.
He consciously reached out to his own Haki. Instead of pushing his Conqueror's will outward, he pulled it inward, compressing that pressure behind the edge of Gol D. Roger's cutlass.
The lightning vanished. Loose frost stopped skittering around his boots. His presence hadn't weakened. It had simply stopped leaking. Everything was gathered behind the edge of Ace.
For the first time, Mihawk saw Giovanni hold all that pressure without letting it spill.
Mihawk's left eyebrow twitched upward. His golden eyes narrowed slightly, locking onto Giovanni with a sharp, genuine intensity.
Loki, still reeling from Mihawk's rebuke, opened his mouth to shout another challenge, but the words died in his throat. The giant prince took an instinctual step backward, a sudden sweat breaking out across his neck as his instincts warned him that the human standing before him had suddenly become far more dangerous.
Giovanni didn't say a word. He didn't roar a technique name. He didn't drop into a flashy stance.
Holding Ace loosely in his right hand, the silver edge of the Supreme Grade blade completely quiet and dark, Giovanni began walking toward Mihawk.
Step.
His boot crunched softly against the frost.
Step.
Every movement was measured, relaxed, and devoid of wasted energy. The noise of the mountain, the distant shouting of the giants, and the howling of the wind faded into background noise.
Giovanni walked toward Yoru in complete and total silence.
---
Find early chapters on my patreon
[Patreon.com/tenten100?]