Bab 118: Conqueror's Haki!
"Ready to continue?" Roger quipped, panting slightly.
"As long as you can keep up," Jack replied, shifting his focus to his Sixth Level techniques. He was cautious; these techniques took a significant toll on him. But Roger's continued ability to parry and counter had left him little choice.
Suddenly, Jack disappeared in a trail of fire, executing his Comet Dash. He reappeared behind Roger, his Meteor Haki Punch scalding the air and sending Roger sprawling. Quickly getting back up, Roger infused his cutlass with more Haki, sending a wave of energy toward Jack.
In response, Jack created his Flame Shield—a fiery Haki barrier that neutralized Roger's attack and sent embers flying. Then, elevating himself with a Starry Sky Leap, Jack descended upon Roger with a Meteor Haki Punch that left a scorched imprint on the ground.
"We're reaching the endgame now," Roger conceded, glancing at the damage surrounding them.
Jack's eyes were now a furious, stormy blue, filled with an intensity that could only mean one thing. "I've got one more trick up my sleeve," he muttered.
With that, Jack initiated his Cosmic Cataclysm. His fists became meteors, his Haki alight with fiery energy. Each punch exploded upon contact, tearing through Roger's Haki defenses.
As Roger was pushed to the brink, something shifted in the atmosphere. A heavy, suffocating sensation washed over Jack, and he found himself faltering for the first time in the fight. Roger's presence, which had been strong but manageable before, suddenly felt overwhelming, like a mountain bearing down on him.
Roger smirked, his eyes glowing with an inner fire. "What's the matter? You're not getting tired, are you?"
Jack tried to initiate his Cosmic Cataclysm again, but his body protested. The toll of the technique was too much; his muscles screamed, and his focus wavered under Roger's newfound intensity. His fists, previously meteors of destruction, now felt as if they were punching through molasses. His attacks lost their bite, becoming ineffective.
"You've fought well," Roger said, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of authority that made Jack's skin crawl. "But it ends now."
Roger raised his cutlass, now imbued with a dark, foreboding energy. Jack recognized it immediately—Conqueror's Haki. A rare and powerful form of spiritual energy, it could dominate the will of others and sap the strength of even the most formidable foes.
Jack struggled against the weight of Roger's presence. His eyes, which had always been a stormy blue in the heat of battle, now darkened further, mirroring the tumultuous ocean during a tempest. But it was as if that storm was being quelled, each wave crashing against an immovable force.
Roger lunged, his Haki-infused cutlass cutting through the air like a bolt of black lightning. Jack barely managed to raise his arm in time, his own Haki flaring weakly in defense. The blade clashed against his arm, and the force of the impact sent shockwaves through his body, making him stagger back.
Seizing the opportunity, Roger launched another attack, a sequence of slashes so rapid they seemed like one continuous motion. Jack struggled to parry, each movement feeling like he was fighting against quicksand.
With a final, decisive slash, Roger landed a hit that sent Jack sprawling to the ground. He skidded across the dirt, his body finally reaching its limit.
Roger stood over him, his cutlass gleaming darkly in the moonlight. "It's over," he declared, but his voice as tired.
Roger took a few steps back and sheathed his cutlass, his eyes still locked onto Jack, who was slowly picking himself up off the ground. There was a moment of quiet respect, the air tinged with the lingering adrenaline from the battle. Roger's eyes had lost their fiery glow but maintained a gleam of recognition for a worthy adversary.
Suddenly, footsteps broke the silence, and Rayleigh appeared, holding a bottle of booze and a couple of glasses. His youthful face was animated, clearly impressed by the clash he had just witnessed.
"That was something, you two," Rayleigh said, grinning as he approached them.
Roger grabbed one of the glasses, and Rayleigh poured the booze. Roger took a long sip, then handed the bottle to Jack.
"Care for a drink?" Roger asked, his tone relaxed.
Jack looked at Roger and then at the bottle. He hesitated for a moment before taking it, still unsure how much camaraderie he wanted to display toward these pirates. But the gesture had merit. They had fought well, both sides, and a momentary truce for a sip of booze wouldn't compromise his principles.
Rayleigh poured him a glass, and Jack took a small sip. The alcohol was strong, burning as it went down, but it was a good kind of burn—the kind that reminded you you're still alive.
"To a great battle," Rayleigh toasted, raising his glass.
Roger joined in the toast, his eyes meeting Jack's. "To a battle that tested us both."
Jack just nodded and took another sip, allowing the smallest of smirks to form on his usually impassive face. His eyes returned to their calm blue, signifying the storm within him had passed—for now.
As they sat, Roger and Rayleigh started talking amongst themselves, discussing future plans and other pirate matters. Jack, however, remained mostly silent, his mind wandering off to his responsibilities and the loved ones he fought to protect, specifically his daughter, who would be waiting for him.
Rayleigh noticed Jack's disengagement but didn't press him. There was a time for words, and there was a time for silence, a time for battles, and a time for peace—even if that peace was temporary and fragile.
Roger finished his drink and set the glass down. "We should be going, Rayleigh."
Rayleigh nodded and started to pack up the bottle and glasses. "Another time, perhaps?" he said, looking at Jack.
"Who knows," Jack replied. His words were few, but the tone was neither dismissive nor inviting—a neutral ground that felt comfortable to him.
Roger stood up, giving Jack a final nod. "You're a formidable opponent. It was an honor fighting you, even if our paths are different."
"The honor is mutual," Jack said, still sitting as he watched them prepare to leave. He didn't say it lightly; Roger had pushed him, made him dig deep for every last reserve of strength and skill. That was worth something.
As Roger and Rayleigh vanished into the distance, Jack took a moment to reflect. Though he refrained from growing too friendly with the pirates, there was an odd sense of satisfaction, a contentment that came from facing a strong opponent and fighting to the best of his abilities. With that thought, he stood up, dusted himself off, and walked away, disappearing into the night.
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