Soon, Marco boarded the Red-Haired Pirates' ship with a few companions. As soon as he stepped onto the deck, his eyes locked onto Shanks, seated at the far end.
Shanks lounged lazily in his chair, resting his chin on one hand, mimicking the exact posture Carl had taken earlier when he perched atop the mast.
With a faint smile playing on his lips, Shanks gazed at Marco. Of course, Marco wasn't one to back down—he had dealt with Shanks before.
In fact, Marco was six years older than Shanks. Back in the day, the two had been apprentice pirates on the Whitebeard Pirates and Roger Pirates, respectively. Times had changed. Shanks was now one of the Four Emperors, while Marco had risen to become the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.
While Marco's achievements were nothing short of extraordinary, compared to Shanks, they seemed somewhat lacking.
This was the difference in innate talent.
Marco raised a hand in greeting.
"Yo, Red-Hair!"
Shanks grinned.
"Marco, are you here to join the Red-Haired Pirates?"
Marco pinched the bridge of his nose, tilting his head back in exasperation.
"Quit spouting nonsense. I came here to discuss something with you."
"Discuss something with me? Hmm… Did Newgate send you?"
Marco froze for a moment. From the moment he set foot on the ship, he had felt something off about Shanks. The Shanks of the past always carried a trace of melancholy, but now, that feeling was entirely gone.
Frowning slightly, Marco replied,
"That's right. I came here on Dad's orders. He wants—"
Before Marco could finish, Shanks interrupted.
"If that's the case, let him come to me himself. You alone don't cut it."
"What?!"
Marco was stunned, anger flaring within him. His expression darkened, but he forced himself to remain calm. What he had to say was too important to let his temper get the better of him.
"Red-Hair... Captain. Are you planning to let your crew sink into the sea?"
Shanks burst out laughing at Marco's threat, but his laughter quickly subsided. In a low voice, he said,
"How amusing..."
Suddenly, Shanks raised his head. Dragon horns sprouted from his temples, and his narrowed eyes gleamed crimson. A palpable wave of Conqueror's Haki swept out, hitting Marco and his crew head-on.
Marco's companions from the Whitebeard Pirates collapsed instantly, eyes rolling back as they fell unconscious. Only Marco remained standing, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as he instinctively adopted a defensive stance, his eyes locked on Shanks.
From Marco's perspective, a massive red dragon loomed behind Shanks. It wasn't an illusion. This crimson dragon was a manifestation of Shanks' Conqueror's Haki.
Blue flames erupted from Marco's body, and his right arm transformed into a massive wing of azure fire, his Phoenix form partially manifesting.
A clash of mythical beasts: the crimson dragon and the blue phoenix.
The deck was bathed in intertwining hues of red and blue, but it didn't take long for the red to overwhelm the blue, forcing it to shrink into a small, confined space.
Shanks rose from his chair and strode toward Marco, who had been forced to one knee.
As Shanks approached, Marco looked up, his face a mix of shock and disbelief.
When had Shanks grown so tall? And those horns—what on Earth were they? They didn't look remotely human.
As a fellow Mythical Zoan user, Marco quickly formulated a guess. Teeth gritted against the oppressive Haki, he asked,
"You ate a Devil Fruit? Is it a Zoan-type?"
Shanks smiled faintly, looking down at Marco.
"Indeed. Care to see for yourself?"
Before Marco could respond, Shanks' body began to change. His frame expanded, red scales covering his skin as his golden horns grew larger, gleaming under the sunlight.
Marco's eyes widened in shock.
"This... There's no mistaking it! That's Kaido's fruit! How did you find it so quickly?!"
Returning to his normal form, Shanks had clearly enjoyed showing off, though he kept his outward demeanor calm.
"Who's to say the fruit didn't choose me?"
Behind him, Benn Beckman's lips twitched at the remark. Marco, however, was left bewildered. He didn't know that both his Phoenix Fruit and Shanks' Dragon Fruit had been gifts—one from a father, the other from a brother.
As Marco regained his composure, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.
As a Mythical Zoan user, Marco understood just how powerful these fruits were. The physical enhancements they provided were extraordinary.
And for someone like Shanks, already a master of Haki and combat, obtaining such a fruit was akin to giving wings to a tiger. Marco couldn't fathom the terrifying strength Shanks now possessed.
What made it worse was Shanks' age—only thirty-seven!
Marco couldn't help but think of Whitebeard, old and ailing. A wave of melancholy washed over him.
It seemed the era of their captain was truly coming to an end.
In every generation, it seemed there were two titans destined to clash. In the previous generation, it had been Roger and Garp. In this one, it would undoubtedly be Carl and Shanks.
With a bitter laugh, Marco felt his strength draining away.
"Actually, I came here to propose an alliance..."
"An alliance? Are the Whitebeard Pirates looking to team up with the Red-Haired Pirates against the Navy?"
Marco glanced at Benn Beckman behind Shanks before nodding silently.
Shanks chuckled.
"Just as I thought… I refuse."
Marco's face fell at the blunt rejection.
"But the situation—"
Shanks silenced him with a raised finger.
"Since when does a Pirate King need allies?"
-----------
+255 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg