149 The forces retreat.

Garp stared silently at the figure before him, his teeth gritting and his coat swaying in the wind. He had failed.

He could not possibly expect Whitebeard to take this affront lying down, maybe, if he was not seen here then it might have been a different scenario all together, but as things stood, a war with the strongest man in the world seemed almost inevitable.

With a small growl he raced forward towards the man before him his hands colouring a menacing black as it dove forward.

He fought with the simplest of movements, where others would use agility and tactics he punched, where others used weapons, he punched. Suffice to say, that though he did not know much more than the simplest of punches the strength behind them still terrified combatants all over the world.

A sudden pressure erupted around his shoulders as he neared the pirate, so stifling that it gave him a truly endless illusion of strength. His foe stood still two daggers at the ready as the winds began to pick up.

Instantly the various other fighters stared surprised, their collisions stalling for a moment as the felt the truly momentous presence.

A wave of it flowed outwards, everyone within its range instantly felt a primal fear crawl through their spine. The water rippled as a mad howl rose from the copse of trees that bounded the battle.

Instantly the ship balked, its rails yowling in a phantom of pain as everyone below the rank of commodore instantly fell unconscious. Garp stared agape in surprise as he felt the aura.

At the distance that existed between the naval vessel and the sandy beach only a handful of New World pirates would be able to have that kind of an effect!

Garp instantly advanced, his speed almost doubling as he pushed his fist downward, the draft of displaced wind shrieking alongside the yowling copse.

A minute twitch ran through the pirate's body as he leaned backwards twisting around with a fatal level of flexibility to ram his heel into the advancing Vice Admiral's temple. He had gotten faster!

***

I stared silently as my body worked. Around me everything had faded save for the sole marine that I fought against.

The colour from the world had already receded alongside the unnecessary senses of taste and hearing. I had streamlined what my body would process and by passed the neural network that ran through the length of my lanky body.

Now my limbs moved at the direction of the Observation fed interface within my mind, and while my body worked up a storm of steam with muscles gaining micro tears with the undulating heat I grew stronger.

This was just like the eight inner gates, and as I was, I could sense the threshold. I would be unable to use that move too many times anytime soon, but it would be enough.

As his fists began to rain towards me, I dodged. With a small displacement, I began to dance, a phantom of swerves and flash steps I circled the man, a phantom calm settling into my stomach.

The momentum in my movement began to build as time around me slowed to a snail's crawl. With a purposed twitch, my daggers arose beside me already coated and ready for some bloodletting.

As I shot forward all the momentum that I had gathered moved with me, and while the wind that had accompanied the marine Vice admiral had only shrieked, the ones that followed me roared.

A thin layer of smoke began to rise from the blade's metallic surface.

Garp gazed aghast as he was blindsided, the figure that he had been pummelling into the ground had suddenly arisen from beside him!

"[Dagger arts: bladed peacock.]" A deep and foreboding voice echoed out as the Vice Admiral balked.

The figure that had stabbed towards him now took to sickly grey, columns of steam rising from all around as an angry spark shot from the daggers surface.

The roar of the wind was all but ignored as a menacing avian stared down at the Vice Admiral.

With a twitch the figure moved, the small plume of feathers on its tail rising up into a menacing wall of steam and smoke. At the eye of each individual feather, a spark was birthed, and as the creatures talon dug into Garp's arm the feathers followed.

******

Sakazuki started with fear in his eyes as a man that his mentor had acknowledged to be one of the strongest if not the strongest marine in history was engulfed by the wave of what could only be described as pure malevolence.

The sound of two antagonistic beasts duelling for supremacy could be heard from within the veil as the roaring winds reached a crescendo.

The steaming column shivered with each clash as the bright burst of the verdant orange flames blinked in and out of existence. The column looked much like an enraged and incensed campfire with embers spewing out left and right.

The only difference was, that though the embers appeared only for a small interval of time, each appearance denoted a wild and untamed blazing blade of flame tearing ruthlessly at the victim.

Slowly, the peacock receded, the majestic figure seemingly rising to its full height as the tyrannical pressure condensed around it.

Though Sakazuki was a marine, he did not look at his senior officer first, the figure's captivating red eyes prevented it.

This was a creature of steam, so hot that the regular man would shudder, shiver and have his skin melt off with a single touch from its outer plumage. Nevertheless, his Vice Admiral had fought the creature in its own field.

With a final shrill roar to the skies, the figure disappeared. The steam dispersing into the world around as a semi naked man could finally be seen. A swathe of burns coated the man's upper body as he stood upright.

His eyes were completely glazed as his daggers rested on his side.

Across from him Garp panted, though he was conscious the man still looked completely burned, his prim uniform had left him a while ago and lethal criss-crosses covered his chest.

His right hand rested at his side completely limp, his knuckles completely burst open while the bones jutted out with a sinister red tinge.

"Marines, PULL OUT!" he roared with the last of the vestiges of his energy as he vaulted onto the ship's deck his massive jump a few of the stronger captains to awaken while the single commodore limped out of the sick bay.

At the edge of the forest, a white coated swordswomen stood glaring at the receding boat. She made no moves forward, for she knew that even with the addition of herself and Fawkes, there would be almost no way to force the single ship to remain behind without losing someone on their side.

She could take Kuzan for a while, and Marco could maybe defeat Sakazuki, but Fawkes was tending to the wounded and no one else on their crew was strong enough to cause the old Vice Admiral to sweat.

So she had to let them go, Marco knew this too for he too ceased all movement watching with hawk like eyes as Sakazuki leapt onto the ship as well.

Kuzan limped forward, a hand on his back as he joined the duo, he was injured. Not terribly so mind you, just enough to call in a few weeks for recouping.