Chi! Chi!
Deep in the harbor, torrents of seawater surged violently from the cracks splitting open in the frozen bay, flooding outward in all directions.
Shards of ice flew everywhere—
and in midair, Aokiji's form re-solidified.
He glanced at his shoulder, where the sword energy had cut him. Blood flowed freely—
but Aokiji only shook his head, utterly unconcerned, then lowered his gaze, squinting at Red the Aloof below.
"It's been twelve years…"
He murmured to himself.
A frigid white mist coiled around his right hand.
The eyes that were usually lazy and half-lidded were now razor-sharp, brimming with fighting spirit.
Twelve years ago, when he had only just beco a Vice Admiral, he had suffered a crushing defeat at this man's hands—
his beloved flagship destroyed and sunk, and every marine aboard slaughtered.
He never forgot that day.
And now—
It was ti.
Ti to sever that lingering knot in his heart—
to wash away that humiliation once and for all!
"Ice Block: Pheasant Peak!"
With a low growl, Aokiji's entire body transford into a massive ice phoenix, wrapped in a raging blizzard as it dove down toward Red the Aloof!
"Ohoh…" Red the Aloof lifted his head, grinning.
"Young people these days… they sure know how to make an entrance."
BOOOOOOM!!!
Scarlet and ice-blue streaks clashed violently in the sky.
Each collision detonated shockwaves so intense that even veteran fighters felt their hearts tighten.
The commotion was so overwhelming that nearly every fighter in this part of the battlefield looked up instinctively.
"That guy…" In the air, Kizaru glanced over with rare surprise.
"That's a look you don't see on him often…"
He then cast a sideways look at Akainu, who was still locked in a vicious brawl with Kaido.
One after another…
Guess I can't fall behind either, Kizaru sighed internally.
He turned to the man facing him—Marco.
His hand tightened on the Ama-no-Murakumo sword.
Golden light flared dazzlingly from its tip—
and in an instant he unleashed a storm of blinding strikes toward Marco's vitals.
Light Particle Sword… Golden Rain!
The next mont—
Marco, already struggling, suddenly faced overwhelming pressure.
No matter how he flapped his flaming wings or twisted to evade, he could only barely defend—staggering with each blow.
Within a few exchanges, he was drenched in blood, his movents disordered, and his situation perilous.
If not for the phoenix's remarkable regeneration, he would've already been carved out of the sky by Kizaru's blade.
"Commander Marco!"
"To be able to force Commander Marco to this state so quickly… Is this the power of the strongest Vice Admiral in Marine Headquarters…"
Many of the Whitebeard Pirates below also noticed the rapidly deteriorating battle situation in the sky, and their expressions instantly changed drastically.
Whitebeard, standing alone on the deck of the Moby Dick, remained silent. His gaze swept across the sky, taking in the entire plaza, where the Pirate Alliance army was already fully embroiled in a disadvantage…
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard finally chuckled, raising his head toward the distant execution platform.
"As expected… the Marine Headquarters is no easy opponent."
Thud!
His massive Naginata, previously thrust into the deck, was suddenly gripped and pulled free.
One of the Twelve Supre Grade Blades—Murakumogiri!
A sharp, fierce glint flashed through Whitebeard's eyes.
With a low roar, he swung the enormous blade, creating a blossom of razor wind—
then brought it crashing downward in a single titanic strike aid straight ahead!
Completely different from the original tiline's Marineford War…
Whitebeard—the man known as the Strongest in the World—had personally taken action!
"He's coming!"
On the high platform, Sengoku—who was overseeing the central command—narrowed his eyes.
He roared into the transponder snail clutched in his hand:
"That's the strike of the world's strongest man! Everyone, be careful!"
In truth, no warning was needed.
Whitebeard's slash—though seemingly plain, casual, without ornant—carried a terrifying dominance, a force that looked down upon the world itself.
The slash surged forth like a tidal wave, shattering the ice, and even the atmosphere along its path violently trembled, as if it would collapse entirely the next second!
"Retreat, retreat quickly!"
"Pops has made his move—clear the way!"
As the sword energy roared past, both sides at the front of the port—Marines and pirates alike—hurriedly fell back.
But among them, only one person did not retreat.
A figure wearing a wide black hat, a wine-red shirt.
Dracule Mihawk—Hawk-Eye.
He had been locked in fierce battle with Flower Sword Vista, but the mont he saw Whitebeard unleash that slash, his eyes flashed.
Not only did he refuse to dodge, he actually increased the force of his attack, forcing Vista back.
Then, with a flicker of motion, he appeared at the very center of the bay's front line, eyes narrowed as he lifted his head to face that terrifying incoming slash.
"What is that guy doing?!"
"Is he insane? Does he actually intend to—"
...
"Tch, just him?"
Whispers of surprise rose around them, but Mihawk acted as though he heard none of it.
His razor-sharp eyes remained fixed calmly on the distant figure ahead.
Only when that terrifying slash had closed to within a few dozen ters—
Mihawk finally drew his blade.
—Supre Grade Great Sword, "Black Blade – Yoru"!
Vmmm!
With a clear, resonant hum, the long black greatsword swept down in a fierce arc, unleashing a majestic pale-green slash toward the front of the bay.
"Slash!"
No flashy technique na.
No unnecessary movents.
Only the strongest strike Mihawk could deliver—everything he had learned, everything he had understood in his life as a swordsman—condensed into a single blow.
He had co to this war not only for Nao.
His greatest drive was this:
As a pirate and as a swordsman—how far was he truly from the man called the Strongest in the World?
This chance was right in front of him—how could he let it slip?!
BOOM!!!
The two slashes collided violently, grinding against each other for a brief mont before erupting in a blinding flash of blue-green light.
The sea near the bay rose into towering waves.
Even pirate ships kiloters away rocked violently, nearly capsizing from the shock.
"So bright…"
"He actually stopped it?!"
Only after more than ten seconds did the monstrous shockwave finally dissipate, revealing Mihawk's figure.
Countless eyes full of astonishnt and doubt focused on him.
Mihawk was deathly pale.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
He was kneeling on one knee, Yoru driven into the ground before him, his entire body trembling uncontrollably.
"Well, he barely managed to block it,"
A bald, burly mber of the Whitebeard Pirates grinned.
"A Shichibukai really does have so ability—but compared to Pops, that's about all he amounts to!"
His companions burst into laughter.
They turned toward the deck, where Whitebeard still stood tall, gripping his massive Naginata, breathing calm and steady—as if Mihawk's strongest slash hadn't hard him in the slightest.
Seeing this—
Many Marine officers' pupils contracted, shock gripping their hearts.
It had been just a casual swing.
Yet it effortlessly overpowered Mihawk's strongest technique—and even injured him…
The gap was too big.
They weren't even on the sa level!
No wonder he was called the Strongest Man in the World—his power was terrifying!
"Gurararara…"
With a tallic clang, Whitebeard held his blade horizontally and stood proudly at the ship's prow, surveying the battlefield as he roared with laughter:
"Brat, your swordsmanship is not bad. But if you think you can stop with just that—
Stop dreaming. Go ho and train for a few more years!"
"As for now…"
Whitebeard tightened his grip on his Naginata and suddenly leapt down from the Moby Dick's deck, landing on the thick, shattered ice.
He charged straight toward Mihawk, who was blocking the bay's center path.
"You botherso little brats—GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!"
His booming voice rolled through Crescent Bay like thunder, echoing in all directions!
Not good!
Seeing that enormous figure wrapped in a white cloak charging at him like a living storm, Mihawk's expression changed drastically.
He forced himself upright, gripping Yoru with both hands, preparing to block with everything he had—
However—
Whitebeard's speed was far more terrifying than he had anticipated.
Just as Mihawk tightened his grip on the hilt, his vision blurred.
The next instant, it was as if a steel torrent had slamd into him—he had no power to resist.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, he was flung high into the air.
A heartbeat later, he crashed heavily onto an artillery platform dozens of ters away.
The giant cannon, forged from solid steel, shattered into fragnts beneath him.
Mihawk spat out a mouthful of blood, his vision went dark, and he completely lost consciousness.
"Haha! Pops is showing his might!"
"Lads, follow Pops! We're getting Thatch and the others out!
Let these Marines witness the true strength of the Whitebeard Pirates—kill!"
"Kill!!!"
The fad Dracule Mihawk—defeated completely within just two moves by Whitebeard.
This sight sent the Whitebeard Pirates into a frenzy, their blood boiling with excitent.
Under thelead of their commanders, they charged forward like they had been injected with pure adrenaline, roaring savagely as they followed the path Whitebeard had carved—straight toward the plaza's interior.
"Kill!"
The other pirates were likewise inspired, their morale surging as the tide instantly shifted.
Within monts, the marines found themselves forced into a retreat.
Although the Marines still held a clear overall advantage in raw strength—and this reversal would not last long—it was a montum swing completely outside Headquarters' war calculations.
On the execution platform, Sengoku's expression darkened slightly as he watched.
"Whitebeard…"
That na once shook the world.
He reigned supre, invincible across the seas, inspiring fear throughout the Marine—on par with the Pirate King, Roger—dominating the seas of the old era.
In recent years, however, the Whitebeard Pirates had grown more subdued.
Whitebeard himself rarely made a move.
Many began to believe he had grown old, that his pri had passed, and that he no longer needed to be feared as before…
But now—
Before a live global broadcast, surrounded by the elite forces of the entire Navy, Whitebeard carved a bloody path through them—unstoppable.
With a single great blade, he proudly declared to the world:
He, Edward Newgate—still had the right to bear the title of the Strongest Man in the World.
He was still the Whitebeard that none could stand against.
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