One Piece: Chopping Ace Back to Foosha Village at the Start

"Ice Blade!"

Aokiji clenched his right fist and the surrounding moisture crystallised into a gleaming sabre one of his trademark tricks, forging weapons from his own Ice‑Ice Fruit.

Realising there was no avoiding a clash, Wayne called to his crew. "Everyone clear the deck. This level of fight is out of your reach."

Kuro, Gloria and Robin hurried to a safe distance.

Wayne moved first. "One‑Sword Style Falling Rain!"

Snowchaser's edge steamed; seawater rose in sheets, and a brief shower fell around the Apocalypse. Hidden behind the curtain, two razor‑sharp air slashes screamed toward Kuzan's face.

"Observation, full power," Aokiji muttered. His eyes glinted red; his body turned to shards of ice and the strikes passed through harmlessly.

Kuro gasped from afar. "He shattered the admiral!"

Gloria thumped his shoulder. "Idiot that's his Logia form."

Wayne expected the dodge; he had not coated the first cut in Armament Haki. Aokiji re‑formed behind him, palm already on Wayne's back.

"Ice Time."

Frost raced over Wayne's skin; in a breath he was a life‑sized ice sculpture.

"Boss!"

Yet Aokiji frowned. Inside the block Wayne's life force remained steady. The admiral stepped back.

Crack!

The ice exploded into glitter. Wayne shook off the last shards. "Close one. If that freeze had reached deeper than the surface, I'd be in trouble."

He glanced at a nearby uninhabited island. "How about we finish this over there? I don't fancy replacing my ship."

With a burst of Geppo he shot skyward; Aokiji followed. Landing amid scrub and rock, Kuzan smirked. "So you even picked up Marine Rokushiki. Adds another crime to your sheet, you know."

"Spare me," Wayne scoffed. "Anyone with the body for it can work out the basics."

He inhaled, sword level. "Flying‑Heaven Sword School Dragon's Nest Flash!"

In less than a heartbeat he loosed over a hundred air blades, each too fast for the naked eye. It was a Rokushiki‑augmented variant of Ryūtsui Sen from the style he had drawn from the system.

Exhaling heavily, Wayne watched the result. Aokiji's silhouette flickered solid, ice, solid barely evading as the slashes skimmed his coat and nicked his sleeve.

"Dangerous stuff, kid," the admiral admitted. "Observation all the way and I still nearly lost an arm."

Wayne's eyes narrowed. A mere scrape. He shifted grip. "Then block this. Flying‑Heaven Sword School Nine‑Headed Dragon Flash!"

He pivoted and, in three breaths, unleashed nine different cuts vertical, horizontal, diagonal, rising, plunging each one a flying slash drenched in Armament Haki. The nine converged into a whirling dragon, sealing every angle of escape.

Aokiji's brows rose. "No dodging that, huh? Guess I go all out."

Frigid mist poured from his arms. Twin birds of jagged ice burst forth.

"Ice Block: Pheasant Beak!"

Dragon and pheasants collided. A blast of frost rolled out, flash‑freezing foliage around them. Chunks of shattered ice rained down.

From the Apocalypse's deck, Kuro stared at the distant island haloed in white. "Such pressure… unbelievable."

On the island the duel raged, attack for attack, hour after hour. By afternoon Wayne had stopped coating every strike, conserving Haki for openings; Aokiji responded with measured bursts of power, testing and countering.

Near sunset Wayne slashed, leapt clear of a volley of ice bullets, and landed breathing hard. Across the churned ground the admiral straightened, hardly winded.

Wayne tightened his grip on Snowchaser. There is still a gap between us.