The sky itself seemed to tremble with the anticipation of the battle. Enel, standing tall amidst the charged air, glared at Crocodile, the man who dared to challenge him in his domain. His aura crackled with divine energy, a storm contained in his very being. Around him, the clouds churned with the fury of a tempest, lightning licking the horizon.
Crocodile stood on the other side of the battlefield, his expression cold, yet his eyes burned with determination. His stance was almost casual, arms folded, but anyone watching could see the undercurrent of readiness in his body—his sand powers waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The tension between them was palpable, and the soldiers on the battlefield instinctively stepped back, knowing they were witnessing the clash of titans.
The ground beneath them seemed to vibrate, almost in fear, as Enel took the first step. His hand rose slowly to the sky, fingers twitching with the anticipation of unleashing his divine wrath.
"Prepare yourself, you insignificant ant," Enel said with disgust, his voice dark and filled with a deadly calm. "I am a god, and you—are nothing."
Crocodile's lips curled into a smirk, unfazed by Enel's proclamation. "Keep talking, for those will be your last words before I send you to hell!"
Without another word, Enel lifted his arms to the heavens, and the storm erupted. A deafening crack of thunder split the sky, followed by the blinding flash of lightning that surged downward. The ground beneath Enel's feet seemed to crack and burn, and in an instant, the bolt of electricity crashed toward Crocodile, aiming to obliterate him in a single strike.
But Crocodile wasn't just standing there. His eyes narrowed, his feet shifting as the sands beneath him surged with his command. The desert began to obey him like a loyal beast, the grains of sand swirling and spiraling in a frenzy around his body, forming a protective wall.
"Sandstorm!" Crocodile shouted, his voice deep and commanding. The sands thickened into massive waves, swirling in front of him, and as the lightning struck, the bolt collided with the storm of sand.
The energy sparked, crackled, and arced through the sandstorm, but it was not enough to break through. The desert sands absorbed much of the lightning, the massive dunes shifting in response, crackling with energy. Still, the power of the lightning was not something to be taken lightly, and it caused the surrounding air to heat up to unbearable levels.
"Not bad... for a lowly creature such as yourself," Enel mocked, watching as his lightning danced around the storm, not yet defeated but instead enveloped in an ongoing struggle. "But you don't understand. My lightning doesn't just strike—it crystallizes."
Crocodile's eyes flickered with realization just a moment too late.
As if to prove his point, Enel thrust his hand toward the ground. The air shimmered, and the electric pulse in the atmosphere changed. His eyes glowed with an ethereal power, and the sandstorm before Crocodile shifted—then froze.
In an instant, the once fluid sand began to crystallize, turning into jagged, glass-like shards that reflected the light of the storm. The sand that had once been Crocodile's ally now betrayed him, hardening and solidifying into sharp, deadly fragments. The lightning Enel unleashed didn't just burn—it transformed, crystallizing the desert and turning it into a deadly battlefield of sharp-edged glass.
"This is your weakness, mortal," Enel taunted, his voice booming through the storm. "Lightning and sand don't mix. The harder you try, the more your control slips away."
With a snap of his fingers, Enel sent another bolt of lightning down, this one aimed directly at the crystallized sand. The force of the strike caused the entire battlefield to tremble, the earth cracking and the air sizzling as the glass-like sand exploded outward in every direction.
Crocodile's eyes widened as the shards pierced the air toward him. With a growl of frustration, he extended his arm, commanding the sands once more to defend him. But the crystallized shards moved faster than he could control them.
He dodged and weaved, his movements fluid like a serpent, but the shards kept coming, sharp as daggers, slicing through the air with a deadly hum. "Damn you, Enel," he spat. "I won't fall to your tricks."
He thrust his hand forward, and from the ground, massive walls of sand shot up to protect him. But even as they rose to block the incoming shards, the sand began to crystallize under the weight of Enel's unrelenting barrage.
Crocodile gritted his teeth. This was not the same as facing other opponents. Enel's lightning was not just a force of nature—it was a curse on the very elements themselves. The sand, once his most reliable ally, was now a weapon against him.
With his fist clenched, he summoned a devastating attack of his own. "Desert Girasole!" he roared, and from the ground, a massive tornado of sand erupted, swirling violently toward Enel.
The sandstorm grew, feeding on itself as it built into a monstrous cyclone, lifting everything in its path into the air. Crocodile's face remained stoic as he channeled all of his power into the attack, knowing it could be his last shot at turning the tide.
The massive storm of sand hurtled forward, faster than Enel could respond. Yet, as the wind howled and the sand spun violently around him, Enel's eyes narrowed.
"You think that will stop me?" Enel's voice was full of scorn, his face contorting with disdain. He raised his hand, and with a single thought, the sky above him seemed to crack open.
"Heaven's Judgment!" Enel's command rang through the air like a divine edict. A storm of pure lightning descended upon the sandstorm, its brilliant arcs cutting through the cyclone like a hot knife through butter.
The electric arcs tore into the sandstorm with such force that it shattered in midair, the sand vaporizing as it was crystallized into deadly shards. The resulting explosion sent shockwaves through the battlefield, ripping through the land and creating a massive crater where the two had clashed.
Crocodile stumbled back, his face twisted with rage. "You're insufferable!" he shouted, narrowing his eyes. His body shifted, his sand powers now flowing more erratically as he adapted to Enel's lightning-infused assault.
"I'll make you regret underestimating me," Crocodile hissed, his eyes flashing with fury.
.....
The sound of battle was deafening. The roar of lightning, the crushing sound of sand being torn apart by the divine storm, and the unrelenting crash of thunder seemed to fill the entire island. The ground cracked open, the air smelled of ozone and burnt earth, and soldiers from both sides—caught in the crossfire—dropped like flies.
As Enel and Crocodile continued their fight, the air around them was thick with the charged energy of lightning and the dust of shattered sand. Their attacks were like gods warring, shaking the heavens themselves.
From the distance, the Black Flame Pirates watched the fight unfold, each one mesmerized by the sheer scale of destruction.
"These two are really going at it, Motoa coughed lightly as he took a few glanes at the fight.
Guzen grinned, his bloodlust rising with every attack that erupted from the battlefield. "The chaos! I love it!"
Nixon, more reserved, sipped his tea, watching the carnage unfold with a calm that only made his amusement more chilling. "Hmmm, the fight lacks flavour, " he said, his voice silky.
Laffitte merely smiled slyly, watching every move with a calculating gaze. "How so I think its interesting, you know sand and lightning."
"Pardon me but its not, its need more icing to fit my cup of tea," Nixon replied as he froze the surrounding soldiers in the 100m radius.
"Hahaha, cough...cough...," young people style are just so different in today's era compared to my time" Motoa added. "But then again, Crocodile attacks really have no effect on Enel."
"You're right," Laffitte nodded, "There completely useless."
.....
As the battle between Enel and Crocodile raged on, it was clear that this fight was far from over. Both warriors were just getting started, each knowing the other's power, yet unwilling to back down.
The world was collapsing.
There were no grand speeches, no heroics, just the raw, unfiltered chaos of battle. As lightning tore through the sky, its vicious arcs raking the battlefield, Crocodile's cold, calculating eyes scanned the crumbling scene around him. The Navy had already been obliterated. Their warships lay shattered, disintegrated by explosive blasts. Soldiers—hundreds of them—dropped dead, their bodies turned to ash, sand, and charred flesh beneath the unrelenting pressure of Enel's storm.
His senses were honed; every movement of sand, every shift in the air, told him everything he needed to know. The air was thick with death, the horizon ablaze with the last remnants of the battle. Yet, amidst it all, one thing burned in Crocodile's mind: survival. He was a pirate—a selfish, pragmatic, calculating one. And in this chaotic world, self-preservation was everything.
"I'll leave this place," he whispered to himself, his lips curling into a slight sneer. "No need to waste my time." I will not throw away my life for the navy, which will in return only benefit them if that happens." "If Sengoku wants to blame sonemone he can only blame it upon his and the navy incompetence to get anything done."
With a flick of his wrist, his sand swirled around him, preparing to form a shield or even a pathway to escape. But then, the air grew heavier—charged, as if the very atmosphere itself was screaming.
The thunderclap of another bolt struck the ground, and in the blink of an eye, Enel's figure appeared before him. His form was like a living embodiment of a storm—eyes burning with the cold fire of the heavens, lightning crackling around his body like a living weapon.
"You think you can escape me?" Enel's voice thundered, echoing across the wasteland. "I am god, and god does not let anyone questioned his being.
Crocodile didn't flinch. Instead, he moved with the grace of a snake, his body swaying and coiling as he dodged another burst of lightning. The sand around him hissed, shifting rapidly as his body became an indistinct blur—a mirage amidst the chaos. He twisted his body, evading the jagged electric tendrils with a speed that could only be rivaled by the deadliest of predators. His sand danced around him, taking form as he created an impenetrable defense, shaping the desert to his will.
"You'll need more than a few strikes of lightning to stop me, "You thunder dog."
Enel's expression darkened, his eyes flashing with fury. He raised his arm, calling upon the very heavens to bend to his will. A single bolt, taller than any tree, surged from the sky and slammed into the earth in a violent explosion of light and sound. The earth beneath them cracked open, a chasm formed by the sheer power of his attack.
But Crocodile's instincts were sharp. In the split second that the lightning struck, he unleashed his signature move—the Desert Spada. The sand around him surged, coalescing into a massive, deadly blade. With one swift motion, he slashed forward, the blade cutting through the air with a speed that matched the speed of lightning itself. The sand weapon collided with the incoming bolt of lightning, and in a moment of sheer power, the lightning was redirected, exploding into a shower of sparks.
The Desert Spada cleaved through the terrain, sending massive waves of sand and glass shards flying. The shockwave from the collision knocked back nearby soldiers, sending them tumbling across the ground like ragdolls.
Crocodile grinned, a twisted, dark smirk on his face. "You'll have to do better than that."
But Enel smiled in destain as he wasn't finished. "Insulent fool, how can you comprehend the power of my god."
He moved swiftly, his feet barely touching the scorched earth. His body blurred with the speed of his movements as he summoned another attack—a Sango. This time, the lightning condensed into a massive sphere above his head, crackling with unholy power. The sphere expanded, turning the air around it to pure static, causing the sand beneath Crocodile to crystallize under the pressure. With a shout, Enel hurled the sphere of thunderous energy directly at Crocodile.
The sand king's eyes narrowed, calculating his escape. He could feel the weight of the attack—it was unlike anything he had felt before. His instincts screamed at him, and just as the bolt descended, Crocodile launched himself backward, dodging it with the reflexes of a serpent. His sand swirled in a protective frenzy, absorbing some of the energy, but the force of the attack still pushed him back, sending cracks through the ground beneath him.
As the dust and debris settled, Crocodile surveyed the battlefield again. His smirk faded into a grimace as he saw the state of things. The Navy had not all but mostly disappeared. Only a grave number of soldiers remained, which was roughly around a 1000 from the 10,000 soldiers which there was initially. But the thing which made his heart sank was that the battle only started a few minutes ago.
The whole buster call was bascially wiped out in a few minutes by just 4 persons.
One rear admiral, barely alive, struggled to pull himself from the rubble, his body covered in wounds. His lips trembled as he lifted his head, eyes filled with hopelessness.
"We... we're finished…"
Crocodile's gaze met the admiral's—cold, indifferent. " Just die already, you navy dog he said as he drained his life away.
The battlefield was a graveyard. Bodies were scattered everywhere, the remains of both soldiers and warships—torn apart by the collision of powers. Fires raged in the distance, smoke billowing into the once-clear sky. The air was thick with ash and the stench of blood.
The reality of the situation hit Crocodile hard. The battle was lost, the Navy was shattered, and with it, any hope of this being a "victory" in any traditional sense. For a fleeting moment, he considered retreating, but the storm overhead still raged. Enel wasn't going to let him leave so easily.
"This will be your grave, Enel," Crocodile spat, his voice low. "But not today. I'm not dying here. I'm not stupid enough to die for a battle that's already lost."
With one final glance at the field, he raised his hand. The sand began to churn beneath him, ready to consume the very ground he stood on. But before he could execute his escape, he felt it. A presence—a figure emerging from the dust and debris, stepping onto the field as if summoned by fate itself.
A cold gust of wind swept across the land.
"Not so fast, Crocodile," the voice was calm, collected, but filled with an undeniable force.
Joshua had arrived.
As the pirate turned to face him, he could sense the change in the air. The temperature had dropped, the atmosphere thickened with the weight of something far more dangerous than mere sand or lightning. Joshua stood at the edge of the battlefield, his figure outlined by the carnage, the glint of steel flashing in the distance.
Crocodile's eyes narrowed, his heart skipping a beat.