Somewhere in the West Blue.
Aboard the Oro Jackson.
A figure shot through the air like a cannonball, blasted away by someone, plunging straight toward the distant sea.
"Hey, Gaban! Valthior's a Devil Fruit user, you know. Knocking him into the sea might not be the best move!" Roger laughed loudly as he sat beneath the mast, a bottle in hand.
But Gaban clearly had no intention of responding. He pushed off with his foot, stepped onto the deck railing, and immediately chased after the airborne Valthior.
Just as Valthior was about to crash into the sea, a surge of frost burst from his body. At the very instant before he touched the water, everything within a hundred meters froze solid—nearly freezing the Oro Jackson in place as well.
With a loud bang, Valthior slammed onto the ice, shattering the freshly formed surface and sinking into a crater.
At the same time, Gaban arrived right on his heels, giving Valthior no chance to recover. With a fierce swing of his battle axe through the air, a sharp slash tore forward toward the crater.
Almost simultaneously, a chain axe shot out from the pit. The steel chain whipped forward like a sea dragon emerging from the depths, its blade striking precisely against the incoming slash.
But it didn't help much. The moment they collided, the chain axe was knocked flying away by the overwhelming force.
However, that very force ended up yanking Valthior out of the crater in one motion.
With a hard pull of the chain wrapped around his wrist, Valthior flipped half a turn in midair, narrowly passing over Gaban's slash. At the same time, his chest expanded as if he had just taken a deep breath.
"Frost Breath!" Valthior roared, exhaling a blast straight at Gaban.
The biting cold swept forward at high speed, moisture in the air instantly crystallizing into flakes of ice that traced the freezing path.
"Useless!" Gaban made no move to dodge. He stomped midair, detonating the air beneath his foot, and charged straight into the freezing mist. With a single swing of his axe, he split it apart and closed the distance in an instant.
Then, with a twist of his other wrist, his axe traced a dazzling arc through the air before crashing down toward Valthior.
"Woodchopper!"
At that critical moment, Valthior's eyes turned crimson. A single tomoe spun rapidly within his pupils—his Sharingan activated.
Relying on its enhanced dynamic vision, combined with the reflexes granted by his Cat-Cat Fruit, he barely kept up. He grabbed the chain whipping through the air, pulled it taut, and turned it into a straight steel rod to block in front of him.
Gaban's axe struck it immediately. First, it pressed down, bending the rigid chain into an arc—then the force broke through, smashing Valthior downward from the sky.
But before that impact fully landed, the freezing aura counterattacked on its own. It traveled along the chain, reached Gaban's axe, and in the blink of an eye frost spread across the blade, rapidly creeping toward his hand.
Under normal circumstances, Gaban would have crushed the frost instantly with Haki. But remembering their agreement not to use Haki in this spar, he hesitated for a split second—then simply tossed the axe into the air, abandoning it.
On the other side, Valthior landed, instantly shattering the ice beneath his feet and sending shards flying. At the same time, he yanked his left arm hard, whipping the chain axe around like a long whip and lashing it toward the diving Gaban.
"One axe is already out of commission… next—" Valthior calculated internally, his Sharingan spinning rapidly.
"Next, the outcome's already decided. Watch closely, brat!" Gaban grinned in midair, as if he'd seen right through Valthior's thoughts. His remaining axe trembled in his hand before he brought it down in a simple, unadorned vertical strike.
In the distance, aboard the Oro Jackson, Rayleigh watched with a smile and provided a commentary in his deep, magnetic voice:
"Mountain Splitter!"
The slash roared downward—though it was only a single strike, it seemed to contain countless variations, locking tightly onto Valthior's position and leaving him with nowhere to escape.
This wasn't Haki. Gaban hadn't used any Haki at all. It was pure presence—sheer pressure—that froze Valthior in place.
Even with his Sharingan spinning wildly, Valthior couldn't find a single flaw in that simple strike—nor any way to evade it.
All these thoughts flashed by in an instant.
If he couldn't dodge, then he wouldn't.
Valthior twisted his stance into a more stable position, then unleashed his freezing power completely.
"Ice Crystal Armor!"
Unlike his earlier durability training with Bartholomew Kuma in Mary Geoise, this time a half-meter-thick wall of ice formed around him first, encasing his entire body.
Then, within that wall, his skin hardened into a solid layer of ice crystal armor, fully entering a defensive state.
The next moment, Gaban's downward strike hit.
The ice wall shattered instantly under the overwhelming force, and the blow crashed directly into Valthior's armor. But just as the power was about to penetrate his body, the frozen figure exploded apart on the spot.
Fragments of ice and crystal powder burst outward like smoke, engulfing the entire area.
"Hm?" Gaban raised a brow, slightly surprised.
Before he could fully process what had happened, a sharp rattling sound rang out. Chains shot up from beneath the shattered ice like a coiling serpent, wrapping around him in an attempt to crush him.
"Without Haki, it's not so easy to track my movements in this frozen terrain, Senior Gaban!" Valthior's triumphant voice rang out.
"Don't get cocky, brat!" Gaban remained completely calm. Before the chains could tighten around him, he hooked them with the inner curve of his axe blade and yanked upward.
The motion was perfectly timed and precise, stripping the chains cleanly off his body.
Though he couldn't see Valthior, his combat instincts and experience guided him. He lashed out with a kick into the icy mist.
Just as Valthior was about to burst out and surprise him, his expression changed. He crossed his arms in front of himself.
Bang!
He was kicked straight back into the mist, smashing hard onto the already fractured ice. Before he could even get up, Gaban had already placed his axe against Valthior's shoulder.
"It's over, Scholar," Gaban said with a grin.
As he spoke, the other axe he had thrown earlier fell neatly back into his hand. The entire sequence was smooth and effortlessly cool.
"You really didn't use Haki? Like Observation Haki?" Valthior glanced at the blade on his shoulder and asked helplessly.
"If I had, this leg wouldn't feel so damn cold," Gaban laughed.
The leg he had used to kick Valthior was now covered in frost up to the knee.
As he spoke, a burst of Haki pulsed from his body, instantly shattering the ice and scattering it away.
"…Alright, I admit defeat," Valthior said cleanly, without any attempt to argue.
Only then did Gaban lower his axe, hook it at his waist, and pull Valthior to his feet.
"For a scholar, you're already pretty damn capable. Your physical strength and endurance are excellent. Especially that 'demon eye' of yours—it clearly boosts your reaction speed and dynamic vision," Gaban said. "Of course, your weakness is just as obvious: lack of combat experience. You're too rigid in a fight. Anyone can see right through what you're planning next."
"It's called the Sharingan, not some 'demon eye.' That sounds lame as hell," Valthior shot back before adding, "But thanks for the pointers, Senior Gaban."
There were plenty of people on the seas who used axes as weapons, but very few were truly powerful.
Among them, one of the more famous figures was the so-called "Silver Axe." But clearly, as the future Pirate King's left arm and a man known as "Mountain Eater," Gaban was unquestionably a true Great Axe Master.
Valthior himself also favored this type of weapon. His personal armament was the chain axe he always carried—named Merciless, forged by a master craftsman in Mary Geoise.
However, Valthior's axe skills weren't particularly refined. He was still too young, and due to his former status, he rarely had opportunities to fight for his life.
As a result, his style looked flashy—but lacked true substance.