Chapter 117 - Jumping

"Cut the shit!" Guzen snarled, his voice twisted with bloodlust. "Let's just kill him. Now!" A dangerous energy surged through Guzen's body, a crimson aura flickering around him like the flames of hell itself. His eyes burned with hunger as he licked his blade. "I'm dying to see how he tastes."

Laffitte chuckled darkly from the shadows, his hands ready to strike. The very air seemed to darken with his presence. A malevolent, shadowy aura surrounded him as he stepped forward, ready to end this.

Nixon stood poised, like an aristocrat preparing for a duel, his cane tapping against the icy ground, his smile calm but deadly. The frost around him seemed to pulse with each movement, the temperature plummeting further.

A blue aura surrounded Guzen, a crimson edge cutting through the ice. Laffitte's dark presence oozed with menace, while Nixon's ice-cold elegance only intensified the deadly atmosphere. Enel's divine aura crackled with overwhelming power, filling the air with the hum of impending destruction.

The battle began.

Guzen lunged first, his movement so fast it was like a blur. His blade slashed through the air, aiming for Crocodile's throat, his excitement palpable as he finally got to taste the blood of one of the 7 Warlords of the Sea well it would be the second since Moria. He grinned wildly, almost childishly, as his blade cut through the air with deadly force.

Nixon didn't hesitate. He flicked his cane, and with it, a storm of ice needles erupted, all aimed directly at Crocodile. They formed around him like a deadly cage, each needle a strike to his defenses.

Enel, standing above, raised his hand and summoned a storm of lightning, his divine will bringing the thunder down once again. The skies themselves rumbled in approval as the thunder struck, a booming sound that was felt in the bones of everyone on the battlefield. "Thunderbird!" he bellowed, and in an instant, the skies split open with a massive bolt of lightning, striking down with divine fury.

Crocodile, his back against the wall, could only grit his teeth as the battle raged around him. "Do you think you can defeat me so easily?"

"Sable!" he roared, the name of his attack crackling with lethal intent. The words cut through the tension of the battlefield, and in an instant, the earth itself responded.

A massive, swirling vortex of sand erupted from the ground at his feet, rising into the air like a furious storm. It howled and screeched with a terrifying intensity, the grains of sand shifting into deadly, razor-sharp blades. "Desert Vortex!" Crocodile screamed, sending a focused blast of sand with hurricane-like force toward his attackers.

BOOM! The sound of the eruption split the air like a cannon blast. The shockwave rippled across the battlefield, sending cracks and tremors through the earth. The massive storm of sand and fury collided with the freezing ice walls, creating a violent clash of opposing forces.

CRASH! The ice splintered on impact, fracturing into thousands of jagged shards that rained down around them like deadly projectiles. The force of the impact threw up a cloud of dust and debris, temporarily obscuring the battlefield. The ground trembled, and the air itself seemed to crackle with the violent exchange of elemental power.

Sands whirled in every direction, and the battlefield was immediately drowned in the tumult of the attack. Crocodile's voice echoed through the chaos, his rage and killing intent palpable as the storm surged forward.

The shockwave rippled outward, sending tremors through the surrounding area. Nearby Navy soldiers were knocked off their feet by the sheer force, some of them flung several meters away by the impact. The sandstorm continued to spread, wrapping around everything in its path, reducing the landscape to an apocalyptic scene of destruction.

POW! The force of the clash sent shockwaves through the air, causing a deafening boom that reverberated for miles. The entire battlefield shook as if the earth itself had been split open. The ice, once strong and unyielding, was no match for the overwhelming heat and pressure of Crocodile's sandstorm. The ground beneath them cracked wide open, fissures spreading like spiderwebs, releasing torrents of sand in all directions.

The air grew thick with dust and smoke, and the sound of popping, like static from a broken radio, filled the air as the sand clashed against ice. The battlefield was chaotic—sand and ice clashed, flames sparked from friction, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

Crocodile stood at the center of the storm, his chest heaving with exertion, but his eyes burned with a cold determination. "Dont underestimate me!" he shouted with eyes in his to himself. "I am Crocodile! You will learn to fear the desert!"

The battlefield crackled with fury, the air thick with tension and malice. Crocodile stood, his breath ragged, blood streaking down his face from the earlier onslaught. His body was battered, every movement sending stabs of pain through him, yet the anger in his eyes was far from extinguished.

"I will destroy you!" he hissed, his voice laced with venom.

Guzen grinned, his eyes alight with savage bloodlust. His aura blazed with a crimson hue, the very air vibrating with the thirst for blood. "You're not going anywhere," he taunted, his voice low and twisted with excitement. "I haven't played eneough yet ."

With a sudden, blinding dash, Guzen slashed forward. His sword moved like a serpent, cutting the air with the precision of a master. SWWWISSHH—it cut a deep gash into Crocodile's side, leaving a bloody streak. Crocodile staggered back, clutching his wound, but Guzen was relentless.

With a manic grin, he leaped forward again, his movements a blur. "How does it feel, Crocodile? To be hunted like prey?"

He struck again, his blade carving into Crocodile's chest with a sickening SLASH, drawing more blood. Crocodile grimaced but barely managed to dodge the next strike, the force of the attack sending a shockwave through the air with an explosive BOOM.

Meanwhile, Nixon stood poised, his cane tapping gently against the ground. He smirked, watching the show, but there was no mercy in his eyes. "Enough games," he said coldly. With a flick of his wrist, a storm of sharp ice needles shot out, each one a perfect spear of frozen death. SHH-CLINK—they pierced Crocodile's arms and legs, freezing his skin in place, creating deadly barriers of ice around him.

"Frostbite... such a lovely feeling, isn't it?" Nixon mused as Crocodile struggled, the cold sinking into his bones.

But it wasn't over.

Enel, floating above with the fury of the gods in his eyes, raised his hand to the heavens. Thunder rumbled, and the sky itself seemed to crack open. "Mortal, you dare challenge me?" he spat.

A massive bolt of lightning descended like divine wrath, CRRRAAACK!—it struck Crocodile square in the chest, the force sending him crashing to the ground in a heap, sparks flying off his body as the electricity surged through him. His entire body convulsed, every muscle twitching violently under the assault. He screamed, but the pain was drowned out by the unrelenting crackling of the lightning.

"You thought you could have challenged this god?" Enel taunted. "You're nothing but an ant and insiginficnat mortal who will get easily crushed beneath my feet!" He slammed his fist down, shouting, "Thunder Spear!" Another bolt of lightning shot forward, aimed directly at Crocodile's head, piercing the air with divine precision. Burst of sand shoot out in diifferent direction as they crystalize as they shockwave spreads out creating a spectuclar of a web.

As Crocodile struggled to rise, blood dripping from his mouth, Laffitte appeared from the shadows. His eerie grin was the last thing Crocodile saw before Laffitte's gloved hand grabbed his head, jerking him upright with brutal strength. "Now, now... don't you look like you're in trouble." He chuckled darkly. "Let's make this quick, shall we?"

With an almost casual motion, Laffitte twisted his hand and delivered a sharp kick directly to Crocodile's stomach. THWACK! Crocodile was sent flying back, slamming into a mountain with a sickening CRACK.

Before he could recover, Guzen was on him again. His crimson aura flared, and he moved faster than Crocodile could track. "Let's see how long you last before you break," Guzen growled as he struck with brutal precision, his sword sinking into Crocodile's ribs with a sickening SQUELCH.

BANG! Crocodile was thrown into the air, his body crumpling against the stone mountain before falling to the ground.

Laffitte, ever the shadow, stepped forward with a smile that was more unsettling than comforting. "What's the matter, Crocodile? Feeling a little... crushed?" He snickered, stepping on Crocodile's chest, grinding his heel into the wound.

"Get off me!" Crocodile roared, but Laffitte only smirked, pressing down harder until Crocodile's breath became a strained wheeze.

In an instant, Guzen grabbed Crocodile by the collar and hurled him into the air with an inhuman force. The sheer impact sent Crocodile spinning, his vision blurring as he tore through the earth itself, breaking through the hills and scattering stone pillars in his wake. He reappeared, disoriented, but Guzen was already there—his foot connecting with Crocodile's gut in a brutal, crushing blow. The force sent Crocodile flying back before Guzen unleashed a volley of bullets, each one coated with Haki.

"Ahhhhh...."

They pierced Crocodile's flesh, and he let out a guttural roar, blood spraying from the deep wounds.

With a sickening crack, Guzen vanished again, reappearing behind Crocodile just as he staggered. Before Crocodile could recover, Guzen's fist slammed into his throat with terrifying precision, sending shockwaves through his body. Crocodile staggered, gasping for air, but Guzen wasn't finished. He reappeared once more, delivering a relentless barrage of slashes from all angles. Each strike cut deep, the force of the Haki-infused blows leaving searing trails across Crocodile's skin.

Guzen, never giving Crocodile a chance to regroup, spun into a vicious 360-degree spin. With his Haki-coated foot, he planted it directly into Crocodile's throat, sending him crashing downward to the earth.

BOOM!

The shockwave from the impact shattered the ground beneath them, rocks and debris flying outward as Crocodile was sent plummeting to the dirt below.

.....

Meanwhile, in the midst of all this chaos, Joshua and Matoa were seated at a small makeshift table. It was surrounded by the dead bodies of Navy soldiers—their faces hollowed and their bodies dismembered, stripped of life, but still useful in the twisted game they were playing. The bodies had been arranged with macabre precision, their parts becoming the pieces for a game of chess.

Joshua sat back, the remnants of his tea cooling in his cup, while Matoa carefully adjusted the placement of the bodies on the board.

Joshua reached forward and picked up the decapitated head of one of the soldiers. He placed it gently where the king would normally sit.

Matoa, the ever-diligent strategist, placed his hand over his heart with a deep, drawn-out sigh. "Captain, it seems you have lost again," he said, his voice as calm and measured as always.

Joshua let out a light chuckle, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his teacup as he stared at the game before him. The scene around them—the blood, the destruction, the sounds of battle—seemed distant, as if it were nothing more than background noise to their little game.

"I suppose you're right," Joshua replied, his tone casual, but there was an edge to his words that betrayed the amusement in his eyes. He turned his gaze to Matoa and said with a faint smile, "I have lost again. But let's go another round. We both know this game is far from over."

With that, Joshua reached forward and rearranged the bodies again, using their limbs to create new pieces—his queen made from a severed arm, his rooks from the torsos of fallen soldiers. The board was a gruesome spectacle, but to them, it was nothing more than a battlefield, a reflection of the war they were always caught in.

Motoa nodded, his hands steady as he rearranged his pieces, making use of a soldier's legs to form his pawns. His eyes were calculating as always, as if he was thinking several steps ahead.