One Piece: The user of the Nen-Nen Fruit, who overturned the sea.

"Because I've already failed enough in my life."

Shiki's voice was calm, without anger or agitation, only a detached acceptance of everything.

"This is the only fight I don't want to lose to anyone."

Especially—I don't want to lose to myself.

"Join Beehive Island and become your transport captain?"

Was that something the Golden Lion did?

Is that something someone who's considered one of the three legendary pirates alongside Roger and Whitebeard should do?

"I'd rather die standing on the battlefield than live on my knees in this new era."

Roy remained silent for a long time.

He thought of Katakuri, who had been recruited by Kaido, and of the various forces, large and small, that had obediently submitted when the army from Beehive Island pressed in.

They were all people from the old era.

But they chose to survive, and chose to find a place in the new order.

You can also choose the Golden Lion this way.

With his abilities, he could definitely live a very comfortable life on Beehive Island.

But he deliberately didn't choose it.

He once stood at the very top, and he once arm-wrestled with people like Roger and Whitebeard.

That kind of pride is something that those small characters who depend on the strong for survival can never understand.

"Then I have no choice but to let you die." Roy slowly tightened his grip on Qiu Shui.

Fine black and red arcs of electricity began to appear around his body—a form resulting from the high fusion of Conqueror's Haki and Armament Haki.

The electric arcs became more numerous and denser, forming a visible blackish-red halo around him.

Shiki looked at the halo, his eyes filled with admiration, not fear.

"That's more like it," he said.

Then he raised his two swords, aiming the blades at Roy.

"bring it on.

Let me see just how sharp the knife that can cut off the heads of the Five Elders really is.

Roy stopped talking nonsense.

His figure vanished from his spot and reappeared in front of Shiki the next second. Qiu Shui raised his sword high above his head and slashed down.

Roy's strike was completely unpretentious; it was simply a pure vertical slash.

But when Shiki saw this slash, the hairs on his body stood on end.

He was all too familiar with that feeling—nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape, only to take it head-on.

He gritted his teeth, his two swords crossed above his head.

He poured all his Armament Haki into the sword, while desperately trying to unleash the Conqueror's Haki within his body, attempting to wrap even a trace of Conqueror's Haki lightning around the blade.

Sakura and Kuki barely managed to hold up Autumn Water.

But that force was too great.

Shiki felt as if a mountain had crashed down on his arms, causing the old wound on his hands to reopen and gushing blood.

The air beneath his feet seemed to explode under his weight, and he was forced to fall downwards.

Roy, wielding the knife in one hand, pressed Shiki down from mid-air to a position less than ten meters above the sea surface.

Shiki's feet were almost touching the surface of the sea, and the shockwave from their collision created a huge crater tens of meters in diameter.

"This strike is called 'Mountain Suppressor'."

Roy's voice came from above.

"I created it while I was training on a desolate mountain on Beehive Island. There's no special technique involved, it's just power."

Shiki gritted his teeth, his arm muscles bulging to their limit, veins popping out under his skin.

He abruptly swerved his sword, deflecting Qiu Shui's attack to the side, while simultaneously delivering a sweeping kick with his right leg, the withered wood blade on his foot slicing towards Roy's knee.

Roy's eyes flashed red as he withdrew his sword and retreated, avoiding the kick.

Shiki took the opportunity to take off again, panting heavily.

His arms were trembling violently, and his hands, which were gripping the sword, were mostly stained with blood.

But he still grinned.

"strong enough."

"Again!"

Roy lunged forward again.

This time, he didn't use that overwhelming, crushing strike; instead, he wielded Autumn Water like a torrential downpour.

The blades slashed at Shiki from all angles—upward slashes, diagonal cuts, straight thrusts, horizontal slashes—each strike so fast it left afterimages.

Shiki desperately tried to block.

The two swords danced in his hands with impenetrable speed, parrying Roy's rapid attacks one by one.

But his movements were noticeably slower than before—the injury to his arm and the exhaustion of his strength were gradually slowing down his reaction speed.

After another exchange of blows, Roy's blade grazed Shiki's right shoulder.

The wound wasn't deep, but its location was extremely tricky—right on the part of the shoulder joint where movement is possible.

Every time I move my arm, the wound tears a little more, and the pain intensifies.

Shiki grunted, but did not back down.

Suddenly, the Sakura Ten in his right hand flew out of his grasp, drawing an arc in the air before slashing at Roy's neck from the side.

Roy turned his head away, and Sakura flew past his ear.

But in the instant he was distracted by the flying sword, Shiki, holding a withered tree branch in his left hand, suddenly thrust in from the front, the tip of the sword aimed directly at Roy's heart.

A hint of surprise flashed in Roy's eyes.

There was no time to use Autumn Water to block, so he could only extend his left hand, spread his five fingers, and use his psychic barrier to block in front of his chest.

The tip of the withered wood sword struck the barrier with a crisp "ding".

The barrier remained completely still; the sword tip didn't even penetrate a millimeter.

Shiki's pupils suddenly contracted.

"So you have this trick up your sleeve—"

Before he could finish speaking, Roy's right knee was already slamming into him.

The knee struck Shiki squarely in the abdomen, the force so great that Shiki curled up like a shrimp.

The withered tree flew out of his hand, and Sakura-ju disappeared without a trace.

Shiki flew backwards for dozens of meters in the air, clutching his abdomen with both hands and vomiting large amounts of acidic fluid.

Roy stood still, and with a wave of his left hand, he used his telekinesis to pull back Sakura and Kuki, who had been flying away.

Two swords hovered beside him, their blades pointing downwards, slowly rotating.

"You can't even hold a sword anymore," Roy said. "Do you still want to continue?"

Shiki hunched over in mid-air, panting for a while, before slowly straightening up.

His face was covered in sweat, and his wrinkles were glistening with moisture.

His blond hair was plastered messily to his scalp, and blood was seeping from the old wound on his chest, while blood was also flowing from the new wound on his right shoulder.

He looked extremely disheveled.

But the fire still burned in his eyes.

"Of course we should continue."

Shiki grinned, blood staining his teeth.

"As Lao Tzu said, one should die on the road of charging forward."

He stretched out his hand and beckoned to Roy with his finger: "Give me back my sword."

Roy was silent for a few seconds, then his fingers twitched slightly.

Sakura and Kuki flew back to Shiki's side and hovered beside his hand.

Shiki's fingers were still trembling when he gripped the hilt of the sword. But he held it so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"I haven't felt this way in many years."

Shiki looked down at the two swords in his hands.

"Fighting even when you can't win, fighting even knowing you'll lose. That feeling of fighting with everything you have—"

He raised his head, his eyes shining even brighter than before.

"That's fucking awesome."

Roy looked at Shiki's face, which was slightly flushed with excitement, and suddenly felt a mix of emotions.

This old man wasn't unaware that he would lose.

He knew it from the beginning.

But he still wanted to fight, still wanted to fight desperately, and still wanted to squeeze out every last bit of strength before he would stop.

Because this might be the last time he risks his life.