A few minutes earlier—
The Moby Dick, massive as a white whale, glided over the waves. From its stern trailed a thick iron chain, submerged into the sea.
"Pops, Oden's nearly made it through the trial! Why haven't you agreed to let him join us yet?"
Marco spoke, visibly frustrated, to Whitebeard seated at the center of the deck.
"Yeah, Pops, he's held out for two whole days!"
"Isn't that enough already?"
"Besides, don't you actually like the guy?"
"If he joins us, our Whitebeard Pirates would gain a serious boost in strength."
The other crew members chimed in one after another, voicing their support.
As he listened to his sons argue one by one, a trace of resignation flickered through Whitebeard's eyes.
He had to admit—Kozuki Oden's wild, reckless personality certainly suited his taste.
But it was precisely Oden's overwhelming strength that reminded him of the chaos back in the Rocks Pirates.
Too many unruly powerhouses in a single crew often meant disaster—rivalries, clashes, and no one willing to back down.
Yet just as Whitebeard was silently pondering—
A thunderous explosion suddenly roared from the distant island across the sea.
Waves of red shockwaves erupted from its center, and even across this vast distance, they could see crimson lightning tearing across the sky.
"That's a Conqueror's Haki clash!"
"That's the direction Oden just left in!"
"He's fighting someone!"
"That's some crazy aura!"
"Who the hell is it!?"
Marco and the others widened their eyes, visibly shaken by the sheer pressure radiating even from afar.
They all knew Oden's strength. Within the Whitebeard Pirates, he was second only to Pops himself.
At their first meeting, he'd even challenged Whitebeard outright to a fight.
Though he'd been utterly crushed in the end, everyone had witnessed the raw ferocity of the samurai's swordsmanship.
But now, someone was facing him on equal footing—on that deserted island, no less?
Judging from the clash of Conqueror's Haki, it was a dead-even match!
"Pops!!" Marco shouted anxiously.
Whitebeard let out a long sigh, the test now clearly meaningless.
Time itself seemed to slow.
The coin flipped in midair, its edges gleaming cold and silver as it descended.
Thin arcs of blue lightning danced between the fingers of that man.
Though he hadn't moved yet, Kozuki Oden felt a kind of threat he had never known before—suffocating and absolute. Every hair on his body stood on end.
It was like a blade pressed against his pupil—or a predator's fangs closing in.
There was no doubt in his mind—
This man had completely locked onto him.
There was no escaping the next strike.
Oden suddenly grinned.
His eyes ignited with a mad, blazing battle spirit—raging like wildfire.
"Wahahahaha! This is incredible!!"
He burst out laughing, eyes gleaming as he launched himself forward like a gale.
Armament Haki surged around him like cherry blossoms in the wind—like scarlet rivers—quickly enveloping his entire body.
In his hands, two legendary swords:
The dark and deadly Enma — one of the 21 Great Grade swords, forged by Shimotsuki Kouzaburou.
The bright and ringing Ame no Habakiri — also among the 21 Great Grade, crafted by Kozuki Sukiyaki.
Now both roared to life with a fiery aura of Armament Haki.
He raised them overhead.
"Oden Two Sword Style..."
Surging streams of Ryuo spiraled around his body like a vortex, his fighting spirit cresting to its peak.
At that exact moment, the coin reached its lowest point—
"Paradise Waterfall!!"
"Magnetic Overload — Railgun!"
Oden shot forward, blades crossed before him, slashing straight into the massive azure railgun blast.
A wave of force exploded outward, swallowing the island in a tide of destruction.
The land surged like an ocean—stones, dirt, and trees ripped from the earth and hurled skyward.
Blinding light filled every inch of the sky.
Two figures burst from the smoke and wind, colliding like meteors crashing into Earth.
Spiraling winds exploded outward as the two men staggered back—half a step each.
A flash of cold light flickered in Darren's eyes.
His Armament Haki was stronger than mine?
Then a direct clash with those two absurdly sharp blades was not an option.
Darren grinned savagely. As Enma slashed toward him, he extended his hand directly to meet it.
Enma, clad in Ryuo, sank into Darren's chest. Blood sprayed, staining his white shirt crimson.
It got stuck in his flesh?!
The blade said to cut through hell itself!
Infused with Ryuo—and yet...!
Just what kind of body was this guy made of!?
Oden's pupils contracted sharply.
But in that split-second of shock—Darren was already in close.
"Your swordsmanship is strong. But you know what?"
His voice buzzed with bloodthirsty energy. One hand gripped Enma's blade, embedded in his own ribcage.
His other hand—broad, blood-slick—snapped toward Oden's face like a thundercloud.
Oden instinctively raised Ame no Habakiri to block.
But Darren had already stepped inside sword range. Oden's angle was awkward—clumsy.
Then came the snarl, like a demon in his ear—
"Hand-to-hand. That's true strength!!"
Darren moved at terrifying speed, utterly ignoring the gashes and blood pouring from his slashed-open hand.
He crouched. Hardened. Launched—
KNEE STRIKE. METEORIC.
The blow caved Oden's body inward. Blood and seawater burst from his mouth, ribs audibly cracking.
A shockwave of white energy rippled from his spine.
A single drop of blood splashed onto Darren's cheek. His eyes burned brighter—wilder.
He followed with a crushing elbow to the throat.
Oden's face turned ashen—blood sprayed again.
But that was only the beginning.
Darren gave him no room to breathe.
A hurricane of close-quarters strikes rained down—ruthless, relentless, merciless.
Each hit staggered Oden. Blood mist sprayed from his skin like steam.
Every time he tried to counter—Darren stuck to him like a shadow, too close for a sword to swing.
A final shove knocked Oden back several paces. His hair was disheveled, his body wrecked.
But Darren didn't wait.
His figure flickered—appeared before Oden once more, like a ghost from hell.
"In Wano... you've never seen martial arts , have you?"
With a cold sneer, Darren reached out with his blood-slick hand and clamped it onto Oden's skull like an iron vice.
Then—he slammed it into the ground.
A hundred meters around them shattered—fissures crawled across the land like spiderwebs.
Oden's pupils went dull for a moment. Blood gushed from his nose and mouth.
Stones flew in the wind. Blood coated Darren's body.
His face curled into a wicked grin—dripping with rage and conquest.