Chapter Nine: An Encounter with the White-Bearded Old Man on the Road

A week passed swiftly, and Kamille decided to set out for Loguetown today. Rising early in the morning, he gently woke Robin, who was sleeping beside him.

"Robin, Kamille will be away for a few days. It'll probably be at least a week before I return," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. He didn't want to leave Robin behind, but he knew she couldn't come with him. On the day of the execution, the place would be swarming with people—Marines, pirates, all sorts mixed together. If he brought Robin along, he wouldn't be able to protect her. Though his strength now rivaled that of a Marine admiral, there would certainly be many powerful figures present on that day. Perhaps even Whitebeard would show up to see for himself.

Robin's heart tightened at the thought of Kamille leaving, her eyes quickly filling with tears. "Are you really going, Kamille? Can't you take me with you? Please, don't leave me behind," she pleaded, afraid he might never return.

Kamille pulled her into his arms, kissed her gently on the forehead, and spoke to her with warmth, "Robin, it's going to be chaos there. The Marines and pirates will be everywhere. Kamille can take care of himself, but if you come with me, I'm afraid you might get hurt. Don't worry, Kamille can always escape if things get too dangerous—you know how fast I am. Trust me, everything will be fine."

Robin felt reassured by his words. "No more than two weeks. You must come back in two weeks," she said seriously, looking into his eyes.

"Of course, don't worry. There's enough food in the house to last you, so two weeks won't be a problem. When I get back, I'll bring you a present," Kamille promised, stroking her silky hair.

Robin giggled, "You have to keep your word." She didn't ask where he was going; lately, she'd heard talk about the Pirate King's execution while borrowing books from the Tree of Knowledge. She was certain Kamille was heading there, but she believed in him—her Kamille would be all right.

Suddenly, Robin rose on her tiptoes, kissed Kamille on the lips, then darted shyly into the house, calling back, "Kamille, come back soon and don't forget my present!"

A smile broke out on Kamille's face. Robin had kissed him first—how delightful. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon," he called after her.

Without further delay, Kamille grabbed his sword, Heavenly Snow, transformed into his elemental form, and shot out over the sea at great speed. The East Blue was a long way from the West Blue; even a fast ship sailing from Ohara non-stop would need five days. As an elemental, Kamille would need to rest a few times along the way, but he'd likely arrive in a single day.

He'd been flying for half a day, stopping once to rest and eat, when he spotted a particularly large pirate ship far off on the horizon. From this distance, he couldn't make out the flag, so he sped closer to investigate.

"Damn, that's Whitebeard's ship," he muttered in surprise. He hadn't expected to encounter Whitebeard so soon. There, not far ahead, hung the pirate flag—black, with a skull and two white mustaches curling up from the nose.

Kamille hovered near the stern, chin propped on his sword, murmuring to himself, "Should I go aboard and take a look? Meet the man second only to the Pirate King himself? Who knows when I'd get another chance." A sly smile crossed his lips. He took a large crate of white liquor out of his space ring but shook his head—this was hardly enough. In the future, Shanks would bring a cask as big as himself on board. His own supply wouldn't last Whitebeard more than a single swig. Best not to bring it—he couldn't let Whitebeard discover his space ring. That would be trouble.

In the end, Kamille decided to go aboard empty-handed. He barely knew Whitebeard, so pretending to be a stranger was best—how clever of him.

Without further ado, Kamille transformed, landed lightly on the deck, and, feigning exhaustion, sat down, saying, "Sorry, I'm a bit tired. I'll just rest here a moment before leaving."

The crew on deck noticed him immediately and heard his words. Did this kid not realize whose ship he was on?

Whitebeard, a man at least five meters tall, eyed the child with a gentle smile. "A Logia user, the Thunderfruit—seems like he's here to join me," he thought. Whitebeard always did leap to conclusions.

"Kid, don't you know who I am?" Whitebeard suddenly released his Conqueror’s Haki, though not directed at Kamille. After all, he didn't want to hurt a promising youngster—he was just being considerate, in his own way.

The moment Whitebeard unleashed his Haki, Kamille sensed it and immediately used all his inner energy to resist. Hearing Whitebeard's question, Kamille considered whether to release his own Haki in return—just to give Whitebeard a scare. Judging by his words, it sounded like Whitebeard wanted to recruit him.

Whitebeard watched as the boy struggled to withstand the Haki. Just as it seemed he was about to falter, Kamille's demeanor changed in an instant; he glared up, surprising Whitebeard—what had he done to anger this child? Suddenly, Whitebeard felt a wave of Haki as overwhelming as his own surge from the boy, accompanied by a childish voice: "Who are you? I only know that the famous captains of the Grand Line are Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King, and Whitebeard. So you know Haki? Hmph, so do I." Kamille feigned innocence as he spoke.

The crew felt the mounting pressure between the two, the clouds above boiling and rolling in response. Who was this brat, bold enough to challenge Whitebeard on his own ship? Did he have a death wish?

As Kamille released his Haki, Whitebeard gripped his massive blade, his eyes narrowing.

Hearing Kamille's words, Whitebeard found himself at a loss whether to laugh or sigh. If he withdrew his Haki first, he might be injured by the backlash. This was Conqueror’s Haki—even if the boy's was a bit wild, its power was undeniable. He decided to let it go.

Suddenly, Whitebeard drew his great blade and swung it down. Kamille's eyes narrowed; he drew Heavenly Snow, channeling his energy into the blade, and met the attack head-on. The crew, unable to withstand the pressure from their clash, cowered at the ship’s edge, staring at the boy in disbelief. Was this child really challenging Whitebeard?

As Whitebeard's blade came down, Kamille felt that Whitebeard wasn’t using his full strength—about half, at most. Still, Kamille had to give everything he had, his inner energy surging as he met the blow with all his might.

With a thunderous crash, those who hadn't already fainted were thrown to the deck. Above, the clouds split wide open, and the captains lying prone could only gape in shock at the boy and the sundered sky.

"Hey, I'm Aelros D. Kamille. I can't beat you—you really are strong," Kamille admitted, a hint of fear in his heart. If Whitebeard had used his full strength, he would have been seriously injured if not killed. And Whitebeard hadn't even used his Devil Fruit power.

Whitebeard stared at the boy in disbelief. Whose child was this, so fierce that no one on his ship could likely best him?

"D, is it? I'm Whitebeard—the very Whitebeard you just mentioned," Whitebeard replied, his tone serious now, showing respect for strength, even in a child.

Kamille put on a look of shock—purely for show.

"You're Whitebeard? The man second only to Gol D. Roger, the Pirate King? No wonder you're so strong," Kamille said in awe.

Whitebeard looked pleased at first, but at the last comment, his expression turned odd. Was it wrong to be this strong?

"When I'm strong enough, I'll come and challenge you," Kamille declared, looking up with unwavering resolve—worthy of an actor’s award.

"Haha, truly a man with the will of D. You're remarkable. It seems a new era is on the horizon," Whitebeard laughed heartily.

"Where are you heading, kid?" Whitebeard asked, dropping his attempt to recruit Kamille. Someday, Kamille would surely surpass him, but wasn't that the sign of a new era?

...

After crossing swords with Whitebeard, Kamille felt as if all the frustrations from his recent overtime had been swept away.