A clenched fist grips a barbed staff.
The iron bites into the flesh, blood dripping silently, drop by drop, as if time slows down to record every moment.
Akainu stands, facing his opponent without blinking.
His eyes are steady, and though his voice doesn't shout, it carries an undeniable weight:
"It's over."
But…
The other hand doesn't tremble.
The staff remains raised—it hasn't fallen.
The man before him, the leader, lifts his head slightly… their eyes meet.
His right eye glows with a bluish-violet hue, a cold glint—as if shadows have lived in it since birth. An eye that doesn't see people… only prey.
The leader smirks with mockery, his voice cutting like a blade:
"And who are you to end it, you bastard?"
A faint smile creeps to the corner of Akainu's lips, but his eyes remain silent, as if telling a different story…
He lifts his gaze to the leader, speaking calmly—as if the conversation barely concerns him:
"bastard?"
He turns his head slightly, thinking out loud:
"Funny how a title bothers me… when you wear the same dust, breathe the same rot, and step on the same hell."
His gaze returns, locked in, his tone not louder, but deeper:
"We're not that different… the only difference is, I still have something that scares you…"
"Something hunger didn't sell… and power couldn't corrupt."
Then he tightens his grip on the staff, a low creak escaping it…
"Tell me…"
"How many faces do you need to crush before you can convince yourself you're not weak?"
Laughter erupts from the young men behind the leader—taunting, sharp, ridiculing:
"You fool, don't you know who you're talking to?"
"This isn't a place for lunatics who think bravery alone is enough!"
Akainu stares at them—expressionless. He doesn't blink, as if his eyes have become mirrors reflecting a terrifying silence.
One of them gestures toward the leader and says:
"Look at his shoulder… then you'll know who he is."
Akainu's gaze slowly drops to the leader's arm.
There, a glowing red symbol shines clearly… two lines, called Kuma, crossing at the center, emitting a faint ember-like glow.
(The Ignis Mark – Element: Fire – Rank: Revo 1)
In that world… there was no weapon stronger than the Mark.
Etchings that appear on the right shoulder after the Rite of Passage, revealing the essence of one's power—and their rank.
Each element has levels… each Kuma signifies a new level of control.
But Akainu… bore a completely different mark.
Pure black. No shape. No pattern. No bands. A void.
A curse known as The Seal of Eternal Fall. No element.
One of the youths sneered:
"A black mark? Oh… now I get it."
"You'll learn soon enough, wretch… what it means to be a disgrace to everyone around you."
They shifted slightly, clearly ready to attack, but the leader suddenly raised a hand.
A firm signal. No one moves.
He then took a step toward Akainu, eyes unblinking, voice laced with ice and contempt:
"So… you're the one with the black mark."
He chuckled softly, an irritating look of pity covering his face:
"They say it's a curse, don't they? That you carry no element… no air, no fire, no mist… nothing."
"Pathetic."
He locked eyes with him and added:
"Let me guess… your mother's little darling? A fragile child protected by lies about strength."
"But here… there's no room for the weak."
"The mark on your shoulder says it all… You are nothing."
---
Blood flew.
Violently. Without warning… as if lightning split the air.
A red arc burst between the heads, thick drops painted in the air, falling slowly as if time had shattered.
In the next moment, Akainu's forehead slammed into the leader's with shocking force.
A direct, brutal hit—not from a body driven by rage, but from rage that no longer needed expression.
The sound of bone echoed in the silence, and the air shuddered.
The leader staggered back a step, head tilted, blood pouring from his nose—hot, thick, and fast.
Unable to comprehend… unable to process what had just happened.
Akainu stood before him—body calm, eyes fixed like stone.
His hand bleeding, torn between strength and blood.
Silence choked the space.
Even the sound of breathing was afraid to emerge.
The leader's followers stood stunned, eyes wide, faces pale as if they'd seen a ghost.
"H-he hit the leader?!"
One of them said in disbelief, while another shouted: "How dare he?!"
The sound spread like fire through dry brush…
Workers froze at the noise of the violent impact, whispers rising:
"What was that? Is… is there a fight?!"
Before the leader could collapse, his followers sprang forward, catching him in time to keep him from hitting the ground.
At that moment, one of the subordinates charged forward, fist blazing with fury, heading toward Akainu with a killing blow—
But the leader's voice stopped him. Calm. Firm. Sharp:
"Stop."
The follower froze: "But sir, he—!"
"I said stop."
The leader's gaze still burned, but he didn't raise his voice—his command alone was enough to make the air obey.
He raised his hand to his face, wiped the blood from his nose with his fingers, and looked at it like a broken toy.
Then he smiled… A soft laugh escaped his throat, followed by a deeper one—until he burst into mocking laughter, as if the blow was just a passing joke on a dull night.
Then he said, dripping with sarcasm, looking Akainu up and down:
"So that's how you say hello? Or is that something your mother taught you? Tell me…
Were you always this insane as a child, or is it just a trait of the helpless?"
His eyes held a mix of arrogance and mockery… But behind it…
A spark danced.
The stillness broke with steady footsteps— A young man, around Akainu's age, walked forward. Tall, wearing a dark robe stained with dust at the edges. His half-closed eyes seemed indifferent, yet his gaze pierced hearts.
He passed through the frozen crowd until he reached one of the workers, asking in a low, sharp voice:
"What's going on here? Why is everyone frozen?"
The worker responded hesitantly, still in shock:
"It seems… it seems there was a fight… but with who? I don't know."
Before he could say more, a hurried whisper between two nearby workers reached their ears:
"Did you see? It's that reckless kid… the silver-haired one!"
"You mean that stranger? The one no one knows where he came from?"
"Yeah, he hit Raven!"
The young man's eyes widened, but he said nothing. He just listened.
Another worker whispered excitedly:
"Raven, man! The infamous bandit who gave half the tribes hell! The one with the Ignis mark! His gang shows no mercy!"
"And a kid attacked him? Alone?!"
"Not just any kid… they say he bears a black mark… a full one."
Tension creeps through the air like sparks.
Then suddenly, the young man's eyes widened further, shock flashing across his face, and he muttered in stunned disbelief:
"Akainu…?"
Suddenly, he dashed through the stunned workers, shoving people aside without looking back, his angry voice echoing through the space:
"You idiot… what have you done?!"
To be continued...