“Silvers Rayleigh, I don’t recall us inviting you to this war,” Kuzan said coldly.

He exhaled a frosty breath into the air before him, and in his hand the vapor condensed into an ice blade, gleaming as it caught the sunlight.

Borsalino gave a lazy clap of his hands, and then slowly drew a long sword of golden light from his palm, dazzlingly bright.

He agreed with Kuzan.

“Couldn’t you have just stayed forever in the shadows of the Sabaody Archipelago, living out a peaceful old age? Dropping in unannounced like this… what an unpleasant guest.”

Rayleigh only smiled faintly.

“I don’t have many years left to live. How could I possibly miss such a grand feast?”

Even with two Marine Admirals closing in on him from both sides, Rayleigh’s expression remained calm, his smile unbroken.

“Since you’ve made your choice, we can’t let you leave. If the Pirate King’s son, his first mate, and his apprentice all die in Marineford today, that will make quite the story, won’t it?”

Borsalino tilted his head, pressing a finger against the scruff of his chin as if in thought, raising his glowing sword.

Rayleigh’s answer was a sudden, fierce thrust — a sword strike infused with Haki strong enough to pierce a Logia body.

It flashed out from his hip like a silver serpent and snapped toward Borsalino’s chest.

Borsalino preemptively dissolved into light, scattering like a swarm of startled fireflies in tall grass, before reforming some distance away.

“What a frightening attack. Were you trying to kill me?”

Kuzan lifted his ice blade and unleashed a crescent-shaped slash of freezing air, only for Rayleigh to cut it apart with his sword.

But the frost vapor still crystallized into a forest of icy spikes, jutting upward all around.

Kuzan warned, “Kizaru, don’t underestimate him. Rayleigh still has seventy, maybe eighty percent of his old strength. Just look at his sword.”

“Oh? Are you worried about me? I’m touched.”

Borsalino spread his hands, tone still dripping with mockery.

“You mean his control of Haki, right? Truly terrifying. It’s all focused into that sword of his, not a single drop wasted.”

“Just enough to wound you both — that’s all it needs to be.” Rayleigh pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled. “A Haki battle is just precise calculation, isn’t it?”

“I get what you mean, I get what you mean,” Borsalino wagged a finger and offered him a friendly-looking smile.

“Haki is a matter of comparison. If the Haki on my sword exceeds yours, it’ll cut through. Devil Fruits, though, are trickier — they’re like a double-sided equation. Use them well, and it’s addition and multiplication. Get caught at a weakness, and it turns into subtraction, division.”

But his actions were anything but “friendly.” A storm of lasers poured from his body like a torrential downpour, raining toward Rayleigh.

Rayleigh withdrew step by step, batting away only what he couldn’t avoid with his blade. To the naked eye, it looked unremarkable.

But to masters of Observation Haki, his control and calculation were flawless — not a shred of force wasted, not a stroke overflowing. To an outside eye, it seemed as though the Admiral’s assault had been perfectly neutralized.

“Truly terrifying…” Borsalino repeated, not even realizing he had already said it once.

Kuzan stomped hard on the frozen ground.

This had once been seawater, but after his Ice Age, the entire field had become his terrain.

Suddenly, a dozen frozen spears erupted beneath Rayleigh’s feet like a pit of spikes, ready to skewer him through.

The “Dark King,” unhurried, pressed his left foot down and pivoted his fur-covered right leg like a compass. In one motion, he shattered every spear surrounding him.

“Remarkable, Rayleigh.”

A flash of light — in the blink of an eye, Borsalino was in front of him, sword of light clashing against Rayleigh’s blade with a resounding clang, Haki sparking outward.

Rayleigh held him off, but his eyes slid back.

From this angle, he couldn’t see Kuzan, but his Observation Haki painted the picture clear as a transponder snail: Kuzan was circling to strike from behind.

Simultaneously fighting two Admirals… far too difficult. Rayleigh sighed inwardly.

But to buy Buggy and Ace a path to survival, he had to pin down both Admirals here.

This was the greatest help he could give, as a relic of the old era.

Suddenly, his Haki flared, bursting out like a seed sprouting from beneath stone — and the shockwave blasted both Kuzan and Borsalino back at once.

The ice cracked beneath him, and Rayleigh seized the chance to slip away.

Borsalino’s surprise showed plain on his face. “As expected of the ‘Dark King’ Rayleigh… so it won’t be that easy to take you down.”

“Kizaru, enough games,” Kuzan said flatly. “We’ve tested him enough. We can’t waste any more time here.”

On Akainu’s side, the fight to bring down Whitebeard dragged on, and even Sengoku seemed to be in trouble — Ace had slipped free.

The two Admirals couldn’t afford to delay. The longer they waited, the worse it would get.

Rayleigh pressed his lips together, ready to laugh and throw out a biting remark — but suddenly a chill crept across his back. Yet Kuzan was still standing where he was.

He shifted to the side, frowning — then saw it.

A rolling bank of freezing mist surged toward them.

It spilled from the ghostly ship anchored nearby, unfurling across the ground like a carpet, and stretching forward like a bridge.

From within its shifting shadows came the slow, steady sound of footsteps. Then, a silhouette emerged.

Gooseflesh prickled — tendrils of shadow writhed within the fog.

In an instant, Davy Jones appeared before them.

He wore a tricorne hat, a black coat dripping wet, a trident in hand, a pistol holstered at his hip, boots slick with sea spray, barnacles clinging here and there.

“Rayleigh, I didn’t think you’d seek allies too.” Borsalino craned his neck forward, adjusting his sunglasses. “This is getting troublesome.”

Kuzan, who had already crossed blades with Davy Jones before, frowned deeply. “Kizaru, I’ll take this one. You handle Rayleigh. That should be no problem for you, right?”

“You’re telling me to face the ‘Dark King’ all by myself?” Borsalino scratched his cheek with a finger, feigning embarrassment. “That could take quite a while. Don’t wait up for me, Aokiji.”

Rayleigh felt genuine relief when he saw Davy Jones arrive. Smiling at him, he said, “Looks like we’ve both been underestimated.”

Davy Jones nodded once, then fixed his gray-blue eyes first on Borsalino, and finally on Kuzan.

“Long time no see, Aokiji.”

Kuzan didn’t answer, but resentment flickered in his heart. He still brooded over being forced to let Davy Jones escape in Water 7.

He had wanted to reclaim Vice Admiral Garp’s honor, only to make the same choice Garp had.

Now, with a chance to redeem himself, Kuzan resolved to strike hard. He could not allow this menace to grow unchecked.

After all, it was only because of the Navy’s three Admirals, along with the balance of the Emperors and Warlords, that a “fifth Emperor” had not yet arisen on the Grand Line.

Plop.

Suddenly, a fat raindrop splashed against Kuzan’s curly black hair. He hardly noticed at first, so fixed was his gaze on Davy Jones.

But when the drops thickened into sheets, whipped by a rising wind, even he couldn’t ignore it. The stormy scene dragged his memory back to Water 7.

Sure enough, in an instant lightning flashed and thunder roared, and a torrential rain came crashing down on them.

“It actually started pouring?” Borsalino tilted his head up toward the ashen sky, like the scorched bottom of a pot. “But the forecast this morning said clear skies.”

Then he spread his hands. “Well, weather forecasts are always just a gamble, never reliable.”

Clang—

A silver strike of lightning-fast steel thrust straight at his face. Borsalino staggered back, dodging several more blows before finally countering with his own sword.

Haki clashed, golden light against silver, flashing nonstop.

“What a terrifying combo, Rayleigh. Are you really going all out against me now?” Borsalino asked, his half-lidded eyes blinking as if short on sleep.

“Haha.” Rayleigh pressed the attack, laughing. “When facing two Admirals, precision is the only way. But now that Davy Jones is here, I can cut loose and put you under some pressure.”

“Oh?” Borsalino flicked a sudden laser from his fingertips, though Rayleigh dodged it easily. “Sounds like you hold Davy Jones in high regard.”

“I’ve yet to see Davy Jones fight for myself. I only trust in my own apprentice crewmen… and in your Navy Headquarters’ judgment of him.”

“Fair point.” Borsalino’s expression suddenly darkened. “But you two are both dangerous men. Leaving you alive isn’t an option.”

He lowered his light-sword for the moment, raised both hands, and formed a seal with his fingers.

Rayleigh braced himself. He knew this technique — Kizaru’s wide-range, indiscriminate attack: the Yasakani no Magatama!

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep