141 Thatch enraged

A wave of pure energy shot through the trees around as my footsteps echoed out from the moist ground. A typhoon of emotion echoing from a point that I could not see. Marco groaned as he looked up, surprise and caution coloring his aloof eyes.

He felt it too, it was familiar. He knew what it was, heck his father was an adept at its use after all. It was Haki, Conqueror's Haki to be precise. He could feel the air headedness that surrounded the invocation of the ability strike him before disappearing quickly.

It was gone, where the Haki once was a baleful roar sounded out. The voice that roared out was parched and unintelligible. Raw emotion rang through the air as we cleared the last vestiges of trees that surrounded the tiny grove.

We saw it, an enraged man limping towards another, and in the flash of light that followed I could not help but shiver at the pure madness that was emitted from the figures face. Then I recognized the figure, it was Terrick.

"OH~?" The other figure called out, still not noticing our presence. A tattered yellow shirt on his chest as a deep wound bled into a cap that was tucked into his breast pocket. It was Vice Admiral Borsolino!

"You have the Haki of the king~? Then you're too dangerous to be left alive.." the man's face twisted as he grinned in a savage fashion. What once was a blemish-less face now had a tiny and almost invisible scar that bled copiously.

With a zap he appeared before Terrick's body ramming his hands into his chest, only for his hand to sink into an arm that flapped around haphazardly.

In Terrick's other hand he held a dagger that gleamed with a wicked glint. With a quick stab he aimed at the other man's neck, barely missing as Borsolino ducked.

"Go To Sleep!" Borsolino snarled as he shot forward aiming to stab Terrick in the chest with a gleaming sword the he had just conjured.

Fortunately, the time that Terrick had bought for himself was enough.

With a leap above Terrick's figure I brought my heel down, ramming with all the strength I was able to muster into Borsolino's forehead.

"GAH!" He yelped out as he fell back into the ground, instantly shifting his head away as I landed beside it.

I didn't care though. With a simple twist around I looked at my crewmate, and with a satisfied look I called out; "You can rest now.."

**************************

Thatch groaned as he felt the assault of an unknown Haki on his mind, he almost keeled over as he felt the oppressive force. Instantly however, he righted himself. He was close he felt it.

The roar that followed the burst of Haki only made the Whitebeard more nervous.

He remembered still, the battles they had gotten into, against the Golden Lion, and even the erstwhile pirate king!

Thus, the worry he felt in the moment, was a rarity for him. The man that he had adventured back-to-back with, could possibly be in danger!

With a swift and silent roar he jumped out, his nerves stretched taut as he prepared to spring. At any moment he prepared himself to see Marco's bloody body, hanging loosely from a tree or barely holding on against the assault from a shadowy figure. What he saw however, made him stall.

In front of him, he could see two figures fighting. Or rather, one figure pummeling the other into the ground.

Jagged Dagger stood over his enemy vindictively, an air of bloodlust around the young man as he stared into the eyes of the terrified marine. The man that was considered a leader amongst the rising stars of the navy groveled beneath the young pirate, gashes all over his body and blood flowing as rampantly as a particularly zealous stream.

Lorean held a obsidian dagger in his hands, drops of blood falling from its curved surface as he advanced. And when the Vice Admiral twisted to beam away, he disappeared with a single crack appearing before the horrified soldier.

"[Shunpo]" he leered as he neared the marine.

Terrick breathed easy as he looked around the clearing, the worry that was clouding his mind began to clear, and as he faced Marco's piercing glare he could not help but blush. He had abandoned his responsibility to run into the thick of things that he was ordered explicitly to avoid.

But as he shifted his eyes away from Marco's impassive face he could not help but wince at the spread eagle form of Terrick, broken hands and blood slowly leaving his body.

As he shifted his eyes further however, he could not help but freeze. The worry that had drained out of his mind appeared again in full.

With purposeful steps he walked towards Sorren's prone body. With deliberate steps he kneeled down, and amidst Marco's questioning glance he flipped the child's body over.

With horror on his face he recoiled, true blood caked the child's face as a pained expression sat on his face. But there was no doubting it. That face, that nose it was HIS.

The boy that he thought had died in a terrible storm, the child that he had carried when he was but an infant, the child that had called him father.

At this point the worry had left Thatch's mind, there was only cold dark fury.

With slow steps he rose to his feet, with his eyes never leaving the frowning face of his son.

"BORSOLINO!" He roared out loud, his voice appearing twisted and deranged as he pulled out his sword.

Lorean started, shifting to look at Thatch's positively writhing face. Then he looked behind Thatch at the child. Realization dawned on the newbie captain as he leapt out of the way of the rampaging Whitebeard.

And where once Borsolino danced, now he twisted in a faint mockery of escapism.