Each swing of the sword, each clash, brought forth memories.

Whitebeard fought elegantly, swiftly. Each thrust. Each slice. Each movement. All with pinpoint accuracy, without showing the most minute indication that he was tiring. For about an hour now the two had been fighting.

Fighting? No, that was not it. It was a formal duel, a sparring match that used nothing but their swordsmanship and their proficiency with Advanced Ley.

It had been a tradition since they were young, even after they mastered Elemental Ley. With wooden swords, and where wooden swords were unavailable, they sparred with sticks fallen onto the grass in the woods near their base. Their superiors often chastised them, made fun of their childish games when there was a far more grim reality they had to face as mercenaries.

But they had continued doing it regardless. It was engrained into their bones. Even now, after twenty years of hatred, the two men could not overcome that instinct, that urge to spar.

They would fight for hours. Nunez was the one who was usually on the offensive, with Edison swiftly dodging and moving forward quickly for a counter. Some saw this as a sign of weakness, but those who did were fools and amateurs. The true warriors and experienced veterans among them were awed by his speed, his reflexes, his vicious counters.

Like a snake, some described.

"SLOW!" He looked up, and suddenly Nunez was Blackbeard again, he was Whitebeard again, Edison was gone, the grass and their friends who were watching the match were gone, leaving the two men fighting in the sky alone. The swing came down quickly and he managed to drag his blade forth in time to block the sword.

His breath fogged in front of his face. It was cold despite the drizzling rain, colder than cold. He was vaguely aware of Blackbeard controlling the weather as they fought, making the storm and the winds as strong as he could while fighting him.

"Straighten your back, Redburn! Move your legs further apart, I've taught you better than that!" He said, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure Edison heard him over the cheering crowd. Oh they were all yelling Nunez's name now, they were all rooting for him now.

"I know." He said, and no sooner had the words had come out of his mouth, Nunez disappeared and the crowd disappeared again. And from the shadow of Nunez appeared this man, this monster, glaring down at him with eyes more beast than human. "Of course you do, Edison. You have aged. You have grown weak, puny. You still have the force, but the agility and the speed you once had are ebbing from your body."

He put all the force in his arms on his swords and dragged them down, forcing Whitebeard to twist away from him and gain some distance. The fire platforms formed underneath his boots rapidly as he stepped back, preventing his fall. Blackbeard needed no such convenience as he easily hovered in the sky using his Ley, his fur cloak flapping in the ferocious wind. They both knew his words were true. Whitebeard's speed was what had made him so lethal to the weaker opposition, and one of the two qualities he possessed which made fighting him such a hardship for those equal in strength.

"You're still as naive as ever, Nunez. Do you really believe you can catch up with me, even now? I can live until 70 and you would struggle to catch up with my pace still."

Blackbeard smiled. He hated it. The confidence in his eyes and the gloating manner with which he spoke made his blood boil. "But of course. To catch up is not to become your equal in speed. It is to equal you as a fighter, as a warrior. Every ounce of strength you lose sinks you further beneath me." He toyed around with one of his two swords as he spoke, spinning it around and slashing the air rapidly. "I will enjoy this greatly, Edison. It has been too long since I had a good fight. And this one will be...free of interruptions."

Whitebeard knew what he meant. And he knew there would be none. For a moment, he considered telling Nunez about the death of the one responsible for the interruption at Tierra Dorada, but quickly decided against it. There was no need for such courtesy. This would be a fight to the death, not just another sparring match.

And as if to remind himself and Nunez of this, he set his sword alight with a bang and sliced the air in a single horizontal line quickly enough to make his arm a blur. The movement sent a huge crest of flames towards Blackbeard, who opted to dodge instead of parrying it. A blatant refusal.

"Lets continue our game, Edison. I'm very much interested in what the conclusion to the battles beneath us will be...so I'd like to keep one eye on that as we fight."

It was a request that only a man as powerful as he could suggest and expect to be fulfilled by his opponent. Yet Whitebeard was interested in what was happening below as well. As much as he hated the man before him...he somewhat cared for the people below. As he put his thoughts aside, he realized Nunez was looking at him with a strange look in his eyes. What was that emotion? Pity? Disgust? Or...anger?

When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically low, and a long-gone memory of a far younger Nunez pierced his heart. "You are a cruel man, Edison. Far more cruel than me."

Whitebeard bowed his head in shame.

* * * * *

Schweitzer's ship had been ripped apart by the battle ensuing between the two powerhouses of the opposing fleets. Though the ship remained whole, nearly all the masts had vanished, with scraps of ripped and burned cloth flying around in the wind. The sick smell of burned flesh was everywhere, and the sounds of screaming and splashing could faintly be heard in the lower decks over the sound of steel hitting steel.

Perhaps it was inappropriate considering the aroma in the air, but Leonardo was starving. And tired. The wound in his waist hurt, his injured arm screamed in agony with each swing of his sword, and the fresh cut on his left shoulder was deep enough to stain his undercoat a dark red. Yet there was no leaving this ship unless they somehow managed to beat Yale Tavares, who showed no sign of giving up any time soon.

His pride had been wounded, but at the moment that was the last thing that concerned him. Pride only mattered if you were alive to meet it, after all. And now, as he dodged an explosive blast from the massive saw that very nearly took his left leg, he wondered if he would be alive much longer. The purple lightning Tavares was sending their way was more like a series of gargantuan waves than the precise slashes he was accustomed to dealing with when training with the Captain. Each blast rattled the floorboards and charred them further. Leonardo noticed that Tavares was very carefully controlling exactly what the lightning touched and what it did hit, in order to keep from destroying their stage entirely. He also noticed that focusing on these two things at once was affecting the accuracy of his attacks, allowing time and space for him and Borris to make a counter.

Borris knew Leonardo would most likely have figured this out by now, and he also understood this was the reason why he was in far greater danger than him. Leonardo was still gravely underestimating the sheer skill of Tavares in close range, and he did not have sufficient training to match him hit for hit. With a smile, he dragged his sword through the air in a smooth line, causing a massive explosion to engulf the spot where Tavares stood. But the man whirled the smoke and flames away with his oversized weapon, escaping the attack with a few burns on his arms.

"Good grief, Tavares. Shouldn't you be running right about you? Too much rain is unhealthy for the likes of you." Borris said as he brought his sword down into another wave of lightning, risking his life to directly counter the attack. The explosion sent both him and the unprepared Tavares flying, with the latter crashing through the scorched remains of the main mast and slamming his weapon on the floor to stop himself. The wood splintered and cracked away with ease, but he managed to keep from falling off the ship.

Damn it. Keeping the stage intact and fighting to survive is more annoying than I thought. He looked ahead, and saw Leonardo rushing towards him with both swords ready to attack. "Fool!" He cried, and gently brought the tip of his saw onto the floor. The lightning emerged from the end as a tiny thread at first, and then illuminated the entire deck as he unleashed a thin thread of lightning, aimed straight for the oncoming enemy. Had he been in good condition, Leonardo would have easily dodged the blast...but that was not the case.

He watched the single, purple line hiss under him and the tiny wisps of smoke appear from under his boots. He was aware of Borris kicking him in the waist, but he was flying before he could even aim his pupils in the right direction.

The sheer force of the blast threatened to rip the ship in two, and most certainly would have if it weren't for the caution applied to the attack by Tavares. Borris watched the light from the attack with a slight smile on his face, and glanced at Tavares. He was already raising his saw to press his two opponents. Unwilling to let him fight Leonardo again, he whipped his blade high above his head, sending a chain of fiery blasts in the direction of Tavares. Though the blasts were unexpected, he still managed to raise a defensive wall of energy by slamming his weapon into the floor to provide some protection from the shockwaves. Borris observed the shield with a glint in his eyes. Never before had he seen anybody even slightly manage to protect themselves from his attacks without a physical medium between them.

Indeed, the protection was just barely useful. The evidence for this was the blood that ran down his arm, which was slightly scorched below the elbow. "I see the surprise in your face, Borris. Did you think I would have no way to defend against you? Your offensive strength is legendary among the crews and the people who have come across the misfortune of experiencing them, and I have no intention of joining the limbless, helpless trash you have created within the lower ranks of our fleet."

He swung the saw on his shoulder and pointed to the spot where the shield formerly stood. "Do you know, Borris? Lightning is not something that simply appears out of thin air. It can appear from anywhere, you see. From the ground, the sky, the clouds, and even contact between skin and clothing. For example, if you rub a silk cloth against a cylinder of glass, it can generate sparks!"

"...well I'm sure that's all very interesting, but what does that have to do with me?" Borris asked, squinting at the overly excited man in front of him with his arms crossed across his chest. Tavares spread his arms out aggressively, clearly upset with his lack of interest. "Everything you damn moron! Your blade detonates all Ley in existence, yet it cannot entirely detonate mine because I use these electrical particles to form a barrier around myself!"

Borris frowned. That's not right. Physical particles can be destroyed with this blade's ability. What he's describing sounds like some sort of a resistance - or ability to repel attacks.

Whatever he was doing was clearly not polished enough for constant use in combat, as seen from the injury to his right arm. And so he now realized, it was time to put an end to this little match before they both ended up killing themselves to win. "You may wish to pay a little more attention to your surroundings and a little less attention to your words next time we meet, Yale Tavares."

He felt the Ley within his weapon pulse as the multiple thin lines he had carved into the deck during their battle suddenly glowed a bright orange, before engulfing the dumbfounded Tavares in searing flames, incinerating half the top deck and vertically splitting the ship in two where his previous attack had landed. With the smaller half of the ship rapidly sinking and the larger one ripped to shreds and tilting fast, Borris grabbed Leonardo by the cuff of his neck and ran across the deck towards the bow, before elegantly diving into the monstrous waves below.

This entire sequence took less than five seconds, and was watched with mild amusement by the See of the Blackbeard Pirates, Franco Materazzi.

Though his mocking smile was diminished by the gaunt features on his face and the haunted look in his sunken eyes, it was clear he took great pleasure in watching this fight. Or perhaps it was because it was clear from Tavares' Ley that he was absolutely fuming at letting the two men get away. He did not need to see Tavares through the black smoke and flames wafting from the burning hulk of a ship to sense his Ley pulsing with anger.

It took a moment, but eventually, he managed to climb back up to the top of the sinking ship, gasping for air. The right side of his face was burned but mostly intact, and his coat was shredded and damp with blood from his back and abdomen. Dragging his saw with him as he climbed, he turned his head left and right wildly, searching for Borris and Leonardo's Ley, but it was quite pointless. They had hidden themselves, and in the ocean below it would be utterly pointless to try to find them. "What the hell?!" He cried, slamming his fist on the floor. "What kind of warrior is he, to run from a fight at such a moment? The vice-captain and the second strongest of the Whitebeard crew, afraid to risk their lives in battle?"

"Do not mistake them for simple warriors, or even pirates." Materazzi said, stepping behind the kneeling Tavares. "They are Whitebeard's men. Cold and calculating men. Particularly Borris. You're quite lucky to have survived a match with him using that half-assed method to protect yourself."

Tavares was clearly insulted by this, and made it clear. "Don't get it twisted, that ability is unrefined. Unrefined. With time, I will be untouchable."