What did it feel like to take a Hakoku head-on?
As Elbaf's mightiest technique—both in power and range—fewer than ten giants alive could wield it.
And Dorry and Brogy were the two strongest warriors of Elbaf, second only to King Harald himself.
Together, the Hakoku they unleashed rivaled even Harald's might.
Normally, Kong could have evaded.
All his focus was locked on Magnus. He hadn't even noticed the two giants closing in.
"Armament Hardening!"
With no other choice, Kong poured everything into defense.
It reminded him of those officers who favored Tekkai, bracing their bodies like iron. Who wanted to eat an attack ?
The sword and ax came down.
For an instant, Kong felt as though a mountain pressed on him, every muscle and cell screaming under the weight.
When the strike landed, his very Haki nearly shattered. The sheer wind pressure from the swing drove him back into the ground.
Kong roared, veins bulging, straining harder than even against Harald. Then, he hadn't fought alone.
Now he was forced to withstand two of Elbaf's strongest.
If Magnus hadn't hammered him into the dirt first, he'd never have faced it head-on . He wasn't a fool!
Ortega had wanted to intervene—
But Magnus had already slashed his cheek with a single blade, forcing him back.
"Haha, brat—what're you looking at?"
Magnus blurred, moving as if the ground and sky were the same. Soru and Geppo, mastered to perfection.
Blade and fist, both clad in Armament, collided in midair—again and again, too fast to follow.
Ortega grinned around his toothpick.
"Guess the kid's on his own, then."
His fist surged with Haki, compressed to a razor edge.
"Shunko Strike!" The rightful source is NoveI★Fire.net
Magnus only sensed the danger as the blow came. He twisted, shirt tearing open, a shallow line of blood beading across his abs.
The compressed strike screamed past, punching a gaping hole clean through a Yarukiman Mangrove over a hundred meters wide.
The ancient tree toppled, centuries of growth undone in a single blow.
Even Magnus had to admit it. Ortega's killing strike was razor-focused, the opposite of the giants' sweeping Hakoku.
It was designed for one thing: cutting down foes of his own size.
Ortega too was surprised.
He'd thrown the punch after foreseeing every move Magnus could make. And still—Magnus had slipped it.
"Four seconds, right?"
Ortega's eyes widened. "Same as me…" Then he barked out a laugh.
"No wonder! So your Observation is as sharp as mine."
"No doubt," Magnus grinned back, exhilarated.
Serious now, Ortega dropped his playfulness.
"Then I'll go all out."
"Come! The stronger you are, the more fun this gets!"
Their battle raged skyward, faster, heavier, shattering the island. Half of Grove 47 was gone already, the root systems collapsing after Dorry and Brogy's Hakoku.
Fortunately Magnus had lured them here—an empty island. Had civilians been present, the aftermath alone would've killed thousands.
"Gyagyagyagya! Looks like we finished first!"
"Gababa! Call it a sneak attack if you want. Against scum who invaded our homeland, honor means nothing!"
The giants laughed. But inwardly they were grim.
Their Hakoku had landed flush. Yet Kong still lived.
He crawled from the rubble, body bloodied, face dark.
"Intruders are villains, eh? Then what are pirates who plunder others' homes?"
Every inch of him ached. But even taking the Hakoku straight on, he still stood. Such was the resilience of a martial artist in his prime.
Dorry and Brogy exchanged uneasy glances. His blood was from torn skin. No mortal wound.
"Old man, looks like it's our turn to push back," Ortega laughed.
"You think those two brutes can really beat an Admiral?"
He sneered at Magnus. "Look at your body. How much blood have you lost? How much more can you spare?"
Indeed, Magnus's cuts hadn't healed.
From the start, each shallow slice had kept bleeding. Normally his Zoan regeneration would've closed them instantly.
But Ortega's trick was clear now.
"Burying your Haki in my wounds, pinning them open. Impressive."
It clung like nails, gnawing into flesh. To force it out meant splitting his focus mid-battle—a death sentence.
But Magnus only grinned.
"You fixate on my blood—why not check your own?"
Ortega blinked. His cheek, cut by Magnus's blade earlier, was still bleeding too.
It should've healed in an instant. But it hadn't.
Magnus's Haki had bitten just as deep, lingering in his wound.
His smile vanished, expression hardening.
Observation, Armament—equal.
But Magnus also had Conqueror's Haki.
And with it, Conqueror's coating.
A blade wreathed in black-red lightning flashed before Ortega's eyes.
The slash hurled him thousands of meters, smashing through mangroves, trees collapsing like dominos.
"Strongest Admiral of the Navy?" Magnus roared with laughter.
In a spartan council chamber, old voices spoke in calm unison.
"He slew a Celestial Dragon."
"The Navy cannot stop him."
"Useless trash. We'll clean up their mess ourselves."
Elsewhere in the Holy Land, Rona stiffened. She felt the brief flare of several immense presences—then they vanished.
"So. Magnus really rattled them."
She glanced at the kings and nobles of allied nations around her… then at the grotesque Celestial Dragons, and the countless slaves serving them.
Her lips curved in a cold smile.
On the line, a short-haired female Marine sighed.
"My dear Rona… you're sure about this?"
"Aira, we're tied to the same rope now."
The faint movement of her lips—
Explosions ripped through Mariejois, shaking the Holy Land itself.
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