Their blades clashed again with a force that warped the air. Conqueror's Haki exploded outward in a dome-shaped shockwave, sending molten cracks surging through the shattered island's surface. Trees were uprooted; seawater from distant coasts surged into newly formed ravines.
Michael's feet barely touched the ground—he weaved, ducked, and redirected Garling's relentless strikes. Every swing from Garling was lethal, fueled by brutal precision and rage. His Haki-coated blade hummed with killing intent as he pressed forward, methodical fury overwhelming Michael's defenses.
Michael spun sideways, teleporting behind Garling mid-motion to slash low.
Garling pivoted, blocking without turning, and countered with a reverse sweep that forced Michael to phase again—flickering in and out of reality like a ghost. But Garling didn't stop. His Observation Haki mapped every shift, every fluctuation in air pressure; his strikes preemptive, predictive.
Michael leaped, pushing upward with a burst of compressed wind as the sky spiraled around him. He drew his hand back, Haki surging along his forearm in jagged arcs of black-and-gold lightning, then launched a wide-range blast downward. It struck like a meteor.
Garling raised his blade and split the sky.
The blast cracked mid-air, raw force sheared apart by his swing. Garling charged through the aftermath, a blur of black force leaping through flame and dust.
Michael raised both arms—his sword in one hand, Devil Fruit energy in the other—and met Garling's charge.
Impact.
A ring-shaped shockwave expanded, warping the light itself. The island split open beneath their feet, a canyon forming instantly as their combined force tore the earth apart.
Garling's blade surged forward, scraping Michael's cheek and cutting deep. Michael twisted into a reverse grip and slammed his pommel into Garling's temple. Garling staggered—but didn't slow. He seized Michael by the collar, hurled him skyward, and launched after him with a single step that cracked the air.
Mid-air, Michael recovered. He channeled energy into his legs and unleashed rapid-fire slashes—blades of force screaming across the sky.
Garling deflected them all, each strike redirected with his shockwave-coated blade.
Michael spun again, Devil Fruit energy spiraling around him, then shot downward like a comet cloaked in flame and seismic force.
Garling raised his sword and leaped up.
Their final mid-air clash lit the sky like a second sun.
The impact swallowed the island in silence for a heartbeat.
Then—explosion. White light. Everything vanished.
The world returned in fragments: chunks of earth raining down, winds howling across a smoldering battlefield. The ocean churned violently around the remains of the island, now fractured stone and magma-glowing scars.
High above, suspended in the fading aftermath, Michael hovered. Blood dripped from his arms, steam rising from his skin—but his eyes burned with clarity. Around him, black lightning coiled in thick tendrils, pulsing like a second heartbeat. His Conqueror's Haki had shifted, grown.
The air bent unnaturally around him. The sheer pressure of his presence now pushed Garling back, even without a strike. The sky no longer resisted his will—it bowed. Where Garling once canceled Michael's Observation Haki, now Michael sliced through it, his gaze sharp with piercing foresight.
Garling landed, boots crushing the last intact plateau. His breaths came heavier. A twitch of his brow betrayed his thoughts.
Michael descended like a falling star.
They clashed in the blink of an eye—blade against blade. But this time, Garling's control wavered. Michael slipped through his defenses, every motion honed by unshakable intent and enhanced precognition. He saw the gaps in Garling's stance, the lag in his shoulders, the exact moment his foot would shift.
He struck. Struck again.
Blow after blow rained down, each carrying awakened Haki so dense the island's remnants shattered beneath them. Michael's blade carved trails of compressed force through the air. Garling blocked with grit and instinct, but his defense faltered. Sparks erupted as his blade scraped backward.
Then Michael vanished—teleportation synced with his Observation Haki—and reappeared behind Garling with a downward slash that split the stone beneath them.
Garling coughed up blood.
But he didn't fall.
Instead, he roared—his own Conqueror's Haki erupting in a storm of raw dominance, clashing with Michael's.
They lunged at each other again, a thousand strikes per second.
Time itself seemed to fracture—two titans locked in a duel not of might alone, but of will.
The next clash obliterated what remained of the sky.
As they were fighting, Michael realized that Garling's immortality was preventing him from doing any real damage. This became even more apparent when Michael and Garling clashed and exchanged injuries, but Michael was the only one slowed down; due to this, Michael's body was now covered in his own blood.
'I need to figure out a way to make the injuries permanent, or this will be the end of me,' Michael thought as he watched Garling attack once again, his hand regenerating as he swung his sword.
'Come on, come on, I need to disable his immortality,' Michael thought as he poured his conviction into his attack. Then, a miracle happened: once he slashed Garling, the wound did not regenerate immediately. This shocked Michael, causing him to lose focus, and then Garling's hand started regenerating.
'Huh?' Michael thought as he snapped out of his shocked reaction. Garling, who had stopped his attack on Michael, was now contemplating whether to continue fighting.
'It seems the boy has begun his rapid ascent. It seems that this tantrum of mine managed to unlock his more latent potential, and now, he has nearly figured out the only weakness of our immortality,' Garling thought, looking at Michael, who was deep in thought. Garling, who was deciding to end the fight to prevent Michael from figuring out their weakness, was suddenly attacked by Michael with his Devil Fruit.
'Disintegration!' Michael attacked, teleporting behind Garling using the intent he had discovered earlier. He thought that since Haki is a manifestation of will, killing an immortal must also come from your spirit, as it was all intent