Even in the middle of a battlefield like this, Robin couldn’t fully suppress the unease tightening in her chest.
Crocodile was here.
Not as a distant figure behind schemes and orders—but standing directly in front of her.
Real.
Close.
Dangerous.
“Sir Crocodile, stop threatening Robin.”
Rowan’s voice cut through the tension cleanly.
“She’s mine now.”
Robin blinked slightly at the phrasing, but before she could react, Rowan gently rested a hand on her shoulder.
A quiet, grounding pressure.
“Relax,” he said.
Then he stepped forward, placing himself between her and Crocodile without hesitation.
The desert wind swept across the battlefield.
Two presences collided in the air.
Rowan and Crocodile locked eyes.
“…Mine?”
Crocodile let out a low laugh.
“So it was you who tempted Miss All Sunday into betraying me.”
“Yeah.”
Rowan answered plainly.
“Robin has already joined my pirate crew.
She’s one of mine.”
Then his gaze sharpened slightly.
“And you…”
His tone shifted.
“I’ve taken a liking to Baroque Works.”
A pause.
“So here’s the choice.”
“Step down quietly… or I kill you and take it myself.”
Silence.
For a brief moment, even the desert seemed to stop moving.
Then—
The Baroque Works forces erupted.
“What did he just say?!”
“He challenged the boss?!”
“He’s crazy!” Find the original chapter at g.com.
Shock, disbelief, and anger spread instantly through the ranks.
This wasn’t just arrogance.
This was a declaration of war against a Warlord of the Sea.
Crocodile’s expression darkened.
“It’s been a long time…”
“…since someone spoke to me like that.”
Sand began to swirl around his body.
His right arm dissolved into shifting grains, compressing into a blade of desert force.
“Desert Sword.”
WHOOSH!!
A compressed sand blade erupted forward.
It tore through the ground instantly, splitting stone and sand alike as it shot toward Rowan.
Fast.
Lethal.
Absolute.
And Rowan— did not move.
From the Baroque Works side, voices immediately rose.
“That idiot didn’t dodge?!”
“Boss’s sand blade can cut through stone walls!”
“He’s dead!”
Even Crocodile scoffed.
“If that’s all you’ve got…”
“You were never worth my attention.”
The sand blade struck.
BOOM!!
A massive explosion of dust and debris swallowed Rowan’s figure whole.
The shockwave rippled outward, kicking up a storm of sand that obscured everything.
Robin’s body tensed instantly.
But Wiper didn’t move.
“He’s fine,” he said calmly.
“The captain won’t lose to something like that.”
Only Wiper—who had seen Rowan’s true level—remained completely steady.
Seconds passed.
The dust slowly began to settle.
And then—
The battlefield froze.
There, standing at the center of the crater—
Rowan.
Unmoved.
Uninjured.
Not a single mark on his body.
No blood.
No damage.
No forced recovery.
Just standing there as if the attack had never mattered at all.
“…What?”
A Baroque Works agent whispered it first.
Then the realization spread like wildfire.
“Unharmed?!”
“He took it head-on!”
“That was a direct hit from the boss!!”
Crocodile’s eyes widened sharply.
“That’s impossible…”
His voice turned colder.
“There’s no way he didn’t evade it.”
But Rowan casually brushed sand off his shoulder.
As if dusting off nothing more than inconvenience.
Then he spoke.
Calm.
Almost analytical.
“So this is my current physical defense.”
He looked down at himself briefly.
“It’s enough to tank attacks from the Sand-Sand Fruit.”
A simple conclusion.
No excitement.
No celebration.
Just a test result.
He had intentionally taken the hit.
Not out of arrogance—but to measure the limits of his own body after years of training on Sky Island.
And the result was clear.
His defense had reached a level that even a Warlord’s opening strike could not penetrate.
🌟 The story is already written… waiting to be unleashed.
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