The sea of ice stretched for a hundred miles, a silent wasteland where a lone figure knelt on one knee. His once-piercing eyes, now clouded with dejection, stared at the black sword embedded in the frozen surface before him.
"Is it the same as before?" Dracule Mihawk muttered, a bitter self-mockery coloring his voice. "How ironic. The world's strongest swordsman, unable to even hold his own blade."
He had sworn an oath to never let his sword, Yoru, leave his hand again. Yet here he was, facing a scene even more devastating than his previous defeat. The combination of the world's strongest swordsman and his legendary black blade should have placed him at the pinnacle of combat, looking down on all living beings. But that combination couldn't even allow the blade to touch its enemy.
The enemy hadn't even moved. With only Conqueror's Haki, he had rendered Mihawk unable to grip the sword. The humiliation was like a blade piercing his heart, making every breath a tearing agony—not physical pain, but the mental anguish of a swordsman's dignity being crushed.
Crack.
A sharp metallic snap tore through the silence. Mihawk's eyes widened, his hawk-like pupils shrinking to pinpoints. The black sword, Yoru, had shattered. One half of the blade skidded across the ice, stopping at his feet.
"Cut in two..." Mihawk trembled, his face draining of color. He looked like a broken man, similar to Gecko Moria after his defeat by Kaido. The aura of a king, the dignity of a swordsman—everything had been obliterated along with his black blade.
"Using Conqueror's Haki to shatter a black sword..." The murmurs rippled through the watching Marines and pirates. "Even the supposedly indestructible black blade couldn't withstand it."
"For a swordsman, there's no greater cruelty."
---
As Dracule Mihawk lay motionless in a pool of blood, Rosen—supported by his adjutant Gion—dragged his unsteady body forward. He looked like a candle in the wind, but the profound awe in every eye that followed him spoke otherwise.
Two Warlords had just proven a single truth: as long as Rosen hadn't closed his eyes, he remained an invincible Grim Reaper. Even an Emperor standing at the pinnacle of the world, he could crush with only Conqueror's Haki.
"Kuma," Rosen rasped, his voice barely carrying over the wind. "Are you sure you want to help me expel this fatigue?"
Bartholomew Kuma nodded. "I am."
Rosen reminded him, "The Paw-Paw Fruit can expel pain and fatigue. But my body holds the exhaustion from refusing the deaths of over three hundred Marines."
Kuma's expression remained unchanged, but a chill ran down his spine. The man before him had killed Edward Newgate, Charlotte Linlin, and Shiki without taking a breath. And with only Conqueror's Haki, he had crushed both the King of the Desert and the world's strongest swordsman. Yet this invincible figure was so weak he couldn't even swing his sword.
Such fatigue was unimaginable.
"Do you still want to continue?" Rosen asked.
"Yes," Kuma answered without hesitation.
"Then I'll trouble you."
Rosen nodded. The three Admirals, the Devil's Heir, and other Marines all activated Observation Haki, their eyes fixed on Kuma. If they sensed any dangerous thought, they would kill him instantly.
Slap.
Kuma pressed his paw against Rosen's back.
"What?!" Kuma's expressionless face twisted in shock. "This is impossible! It's like slapping the Red Line itself."
The weight was overwhelming. As a user of the Paramecia-type Paw-Paw Fruit, he had expelled pain and exhaustion from dozens, hundreds, even thousands of people. He had always shouldered the burden himself rather than letting others suffer. But this? He had never felt such a heavy weight. It was as if trying to blast away the Red Line.
"Mr. Rosen..." Kuma's voice held complex emotion. "This exhaustion... even the Paw-Paw Fruit cannot expel it."
Is this the price of refusing death?
Kuma's mind reeled. This man carried a weight heavier than the Red Line, yet in this weakened state, he had crushed two Warlords with Conqueror's Haki.
"What's wrong?" Dol asked, concern in his voice. The other Marines—Smoker, Hina, the elite Vice Admirals—watched intently.
"I understand," Borsalino murmured, his Observation Haki revealing the truth. "The fatigue from refusing hundreds of deaths is so heavy, even the Paw-Paw Fruit can't handle it."
Sakazuki and Kuzan exchanged solemn glances. Douglas Bullet, his Observation Haki piercing through the future, felt a chill in his heart. They all understood now.
Rosen's exhaustion was a weight that could crush mountains. Yet he stood, unbroken, carrying it all for the sake of the Marines.
—-
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