As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Syris appeared before Satoru, as promised, his steps deliberate and steady. The air was heavy with anticipation as the two stood across from each other.
"I thought you might run," Satoru remarked calmly, his arms crossed.
Syris snorted dismissively. "Run? Do I look like someone who'd do that?"
A faint smile tugged at Satoru's lips. "You have a lot of energy, senior. But I can't help but notice—you fight like someone trained by Zefa. Could it be...?"
Syris chuckled, his voice laced with nostalgia. "Sharp as ever, boy. Yes, I trained under Zefa long before you. Funny how the world works—now I'm facing his apprentice."
Satoru raised an eyebrow. "But you're much older than Master. How is that possible?"
Syris's face darkened, his voice lowering. "Watch your mouth, brat. Let's just say I took my time finding my place. I was two classes ahead of Sengoku, Garp, and Zefa, but ended up training with them due to… circumstances."
A mischievous grin spread across Satoru's face. "Circumstances like tormenting Sengoku with a 'Thousand Years of Death'?"
Syris let out a booming laugh, though his expression quickly soured. "That's the one. He's never forgiven me for it, has he?"
"Not one bit," Satoru confirmed, struggling to suppress his amusement.
The banter dissipated as the tension returned, both men locking eyes. Syris's expression shifted, his body radiating power. "Enough talk. If you want me, boy, you'll have to earn it."
---
The battle resumed with a ferocity that shook the ground beneath them. Syris's powerful fist, wrapped in thick Armament Haki, tore through the air toward Satoru. But as before, the younger admiral stood unfazed, his calm demeanor infuriating.
"Use Conqueror's Haki coating, senior," Satoru advised coolly. "Otherwise, you won't land a hit."
Syris scowled. "We'll see about that!"
With a burst of speed, Syris vanished, reappearing behind Satoru. His punches came in rapid succession, each one carrying enough force to shatter steel. Yet none of them connected. A thin barrier of reversed energy deflected every blow, leaving Syris increasingly frustrated.
"What the hell is this power?" Syris muttered, panting as he backed away.
Satoru smiled faintly, holding up his hand, where a red orb of energy hovered. "This? Just a little trick of mine. But you're right—fighting without Conqueror's Haki won't work. Let me show you why."
---
The clash between their Conqueror's Haki was titanic, shaking the island and splitting the sky. Lightning crackled in the air as the two traded blows, their fists never quite touching, the sheer force of their attacks repelling each other. Syris grinned, exhilarated despite the growing pain in his limbs.
"You're strong, kid," Syris admitted. "Stronger than I thought."
"And you're tougher than I expected, senior," Satoru replied, a rare seriousness in his tone.
The battle reached its crescendo as Satoru activated **Black Flash**, a combination of Conqueror's Haki and his own unique energy manipulation. His fist collided with Syris's, the impact creating a deafening boom that echoed across the sea. Syris staggered, his arm numb and trembling.
"You're defeated, senior," Satoru said, standing over Syris, who lay embedded in the ground. His voice carried no malice—only respect.
---
Just as Satoru prepared to escort Syris back to the ship, a commotion broke out. The villagers, led by a determined young boy, stormed onto the battlefield.
"Stop!" the boy cried, tears streaming down his face. "You can't take Grandpa Riel!"
The villagers encircled them, their eyes burning with defiance.
"You don't understand," Satoru said, his voice firm. "Do you even know who he really is?"
"We know," the boy replied, his voice trembling but resolute. "We know Grandpa Riel was a pirate. But he's never hurt us. He's protected us, cared for us. He's our family!"
Satoru blinked, momentarily stunned by the boy's words. Even Syris, lying battered on the ground, looked surprised. Tears welled in his eyes as he looked at the villagers who had come to defend him.
"Grandpa Riel, is this true?" the boy asked, clutching Syris's hand tightly.
Syris chuckled weakly, his voice hoarse. "Yes, little one. It's true. But I'm afraid I can't stay here anymore. This is something I have to face."
The villagers' protests grew louder, but Satoru raised a hand, silencing them. He looked at Syris, then back at the villagers.
"I'm taking him," Satoru said finally. "But I promise he'll be treated fairly. You have my word as an admiral."
The villagers hesitated, their anger mingling with sadness. Slowly, they began to step back, their trust in Syris outweighing their fear.
As Satoru led Syris away, the boy's voice called out once more. "Grandpa Riel! You'll come back, right?"
Syris paused, glancing over his shoulder. "If I can, little one. If I can."
And with that, the two figures disappeared into the night, leaving behind a village united by love, hope, and the memory of a man who had once been both a pirate and their protector.