Chapter-5

Mochi tendrils lashed like obsidian whips, aimed for Blackbeard's throat. Steel claws met them mid-air, sparks spitting like angry fireflies. Katakuri's future vision flared, showing a feint, a shift in stance, but Blackbeard's grin stretched wide, malice glinting in his eyes. The claws changed course, ripping through the mochi, leaving ragged gashes that oozed inky darkness.

Katakuri snarled, the sound barely audible over the storm's howl. His trident (jet-black) blur, produced a buzzing noise as it arced down. Blackbeard twisted, his Haki-clad arm deflecting the blow with a sickening clang. Steel grated against wood, sending tremors through Katakuri's arm.

Wooden dust, mingled on his brow. He saw, a split second ahead, the pirate captain's fist aiming for his gut. Mochi surged, forming a shield, but Blackbeard's laughter, a guttural rumble, drowned out the impact. The air knocked from Katakuri's lungs, his vision wavering.

Fury, coursed through him. He lashed out, a black wave of mochi crashing against Blackbeard. The pirate roared, meeting the wave head-on with a fist cloaked in Haki. The shockwave sent shivers through the shattered ground, wooden buildings groaning in protest.

Katakuri, thrown back, slammed against a wooden lamppost, shattering it into a million glittering pieces. Pain lanced through him, but even as he wheezed, his eyes, blazing with a different kind of heat, locked onto Blackbeard.

"Dirty fighter, Teach," he rasped, voice laced with venom. "But dirty or not, I won't fall!"

He launched himself forward, not with his trident, but with fists burning with haki as molten as the dawn breaking over the horizon. Blackbeard, surprised, barely parried the first blow. The second connected, sending a tremor through his body. His body hurled in air, smashed through house.

The clash echoed, steel meeting mochi in a cacophony of sparks and splinters. Blackbeard, metallic claw, clashed around Katakuri's obsidian trident, his claws leaving ragged gashes in thethe inky limbs. Katakuri, a blur of premonition, countered with deadly precision, but Blackbeard's unpredictable ferocity kept him on the defensive.

"This might take a while," Atlas rumbled, his voice a low tremor from the sidelines.

Perospero, his face etched with concern, watched the battle unfold. "He seems strong," he admitted. "Why not make him a commander?"

"Offered, rejected," Atlas replied, his words clipped.

Atlas frown deepened. "Lets Interfere?" he suggested. "We need him dealt with quickly."

"Katakuri won't like that," Perospero countered. "He prefers… directness."

"He's never lost," Perospero said, a flicker of pride in his voice.

"You're confident on taking teach out, even if he does win?" Atlas analyzed, his single eye narrowing. "Especially if he's weakened?"

Perospero scoffed. "Katakuri doesn't lose."

"Just in case," Atlas murmured, his form shifting subtly. "Better safe than sorry."

Perospero opened his mouth to argue, but the sound was swallowed by a deafening clang. Katakuri, momentarily off-balance, stumbled back, Blackbeard's laughter echoing like a dark symphony. Perospero's eyes widened in alarm.

"See?" Atlas said, her voice devoid of emotion. "Even the best commanders need backup."

A tremor shook the cobblestone street, jolting Atlas from her silent observation of the brawl. Dust rained down from the cracked ceiling, momentarily obscuring the clash between Katakuri and Blackbeard. His gaze flickered towards Perospero.

Before either could speak, a commotion erupted some distance away from them. A group of Whitebeard they had clearly felt the tremors of the battle. Now they saw, Atlas with them.

"Whitebeards," Perospero muttered, his voice tight. "This could complicate things."

Atlas's single eye narrowed. The last thing we need is father and his crew interfering. "Stay here, Perospero," He rumbled, her form already shifting with purpose. "I'll intercept them. If... if something happens to Katakuri, we need to ensure you fight."

Panic painted their faces, fueled by the tremors and distant clash and Atlas's involvement. They needed to find whitebeard fast.

"There!" One pirate pointed. It was Atlas, his small form moving with unnatural speed through the undergrowth.

"He's heading after!" another shouted. Their brow furrowed. He knew Katakuri and Blackbeard were locked in a fierce duel, but why was Atlas, their brother, involved? Suspicion gnawed at him.

"We need to inform Pops," One of them stated, but was cut off by Atlas's booming voice.

"Not so fast, Brothers."

He stood at the edge of a clearing. They exchanged concerned glances. This wasn't the time for a fight, but Atlas clearly wasn't interested in negotiations. 

With a growl, one of them transformed, his body changing to shape of grasshopper. He soared into the air, assessing the situation. Below, Atlas crouched like a predator.

The first to attack was a burly man with a spiked club. He swung with all his might, aiming for Atlas's head. With a flick of his wrist, hee deflected the blow, the club bouncing harmlessly off his skin. The impact sent tremors through the clearing, leaves raining down from the canopy.

Another pirate, a swift swordsman, launched a flurry of attacks. Atlas, unfazed by the onslaught, moved with surprising agility, his metallic limbs parrying and blocking with practiced ease.

Grasshopper swooped down, limbs bared. He aimed for Atlas's back, hoping to end the fight swiftly and get to their captain. Atlas, sensing his attack, spun mid-air, her fist connecting with his wing with a sickening crack. He cried out in pain, spiraling back towards the trees.

Panic began to set in amongst the Whitebeard pirates. Their attacks, though valiant, were ineffective against Atlas's overwhelming strength and tactical prowess. he moved among them like a metallic whirlwind, disarming and disabling them with brutal efficiency.

One by one, the pirates fell, their weapons scattered, their groans swallowed by the thick foliage.

Grasshopper, his wing throbbing painfully, watched from the branches, his heart heavy with despair. They were losing, and fast. With a surge of desperate strength, he launched himself from the tree, hoping to escape the titan's sight.

Atlas lunged, his hand outstretched to snag the fleeing grasshopper. A sudden yank pulled him back - a pirate sacrificed themselves, grabbing his legs to give the grasshopper a chance. With a well-aimed kick to the face, the grasshopper propelled himself high into the sky.

Atlas slammed into the ground, the impact momentarily stunning him.

"Why betray us?!" a pirate roared, confusion and anger coloring his voice.

Atlas didn't answer. He simply sprang upright, eyes fixed on the vanishing green speck in the sky, and gave chase.

As Atlas lunged forward, his powerful strides closed the distance between him and the fleeing grasshopper. With a swift motion, he extended his metal hand, aiming to snatch the agile insect out of the air. However, the grasshopper's reflexes were just as impressive, and it managed to evade Atlas's grasp with a sudden burst of speed.

Undeterred, Atlas pushed himself even harder, relentless in his pursuit. He closed in on the grasshopper, his fingers nearly grazing its fragile form. In a desperate attempt to escape, the grasshopper leaped higher, soaring through the air in a magnificent arc. But Atlas was relentless. With a well-timed move, he extended his arm once more, snagging the grasshopper's leg.

The force of Atlas's grip was overwhelming, and the grasshopper was yanked backward with tremendous force. It spiraled through the air, helpless against the titan's strength, until it collided with a thick tree trunk. The impact was jarring, and the grasshopper fell to the ground, motionless.

Atlas approached the fallen grasshopper, his eyes fixed upon the motionless creature. His breath was heavy, hard to knock out while not damaging them too hard. 

As Atlas made his way back to the village, his heavy footsteps resonated with each stride.

Meanwhile, in the depths of the forest, the Whitebeard pirates continued exploring the forest. The sight of their unconscious crew members, lying crumpled on the ground, ignited both concern and a fierce desire for vengeance within their hearts.

With great care and determination, the Whitebeard pirates swiftly organized themselves, lifting their fallen comrades and carrying them back to their ship. Though bruised and battered, the crew members were fine.

Whitebeard's eyes narrowed as he surveyed the scene, his gaze shifting from one fallen pirate to another.

With a solemn nod, Whitebeard turned to Marco and the others, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "We will not rest until we have answers," he declared, his voice resonating with unwavering conviction.

With that, Whitebeard with his crew entered the forest.