The aftershock of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit tore across the island like a dragon heaving out of the deep—until it hit an unseen wall before the metal warship and burst into a tower of dust.
Whitebeard's brows rose; his eyes narrowed.
As the sea wind combed the air clean, a single, monstrous crack ran the Moby Dick from bow to stern—a scar left by power misapplied. The ark had cratered into the shore, hull warped and groaning.
At the fore stood a tall Vice Admiral, arm still lifted, gaze steady, the Justice coat billowing behind him. He stood like a fixed stone in moving surf, catching the entire quake with ease.
"His power's grown this much…"
"Advanced Armament—Emission…"
"Damn it…"
"How does anyone train to that level?"
Marco and the others watched in tight-lipped silence. Pops hadn't struck in earnest—that had only been the aftershock—yet even that should have crushed most men.
"Looks like you've improved, little brat," Whitebeard rumbled, dropping Murakumogiri with a heavy thud.
A faint smile touched Darren's mouth. "Otherwise, what right would I have to stand before the World's Strongest?"
He glanced toward the mountains buried in smoke and sighed. Bullet's recklessness had blown apart a clean plan.
"Move, Doffy," Darren said.
"Heh heh heh… turning this into a hunting ground? Exhilarating." Doflamingo lifted a hand.
Snow-white threads geysered from his palm and climbed the sky.
"Damn it!" Marco didn't know what trick was coming—only that it was bad. Blue fire roared from his heel; his arms unfolded into sweeping wings. He launched like a bolt, phoenix-diving straight for Doflamingo.
He never reached him.
"Desert Treasure Blade!"
Schwing!
A golden blade of sand lanced through the phoenix's body, scattering blue flame and stealing his momentum.
"Ah-ah-ah! Whitebeard's still out of my reach for now... but taking down his right-hand man is a decent consolation."
Sand whirled and rose, shaping into a slicked-back silhouette.
Crocodile's golden hook hissed through the air, streaking for Marco's spine like lightning.
"Damn you, Crocodile!" Marco snarled. Untouched by the sand blade's cut, he spun and met the hook with a flaming kick.
Clang!
The shockwave rang—but Marco's eyes were already on the sky, where white threads had climbed to their peak. "Stop Doflamingo! Now!"
Even as the shout left him, rose petals drifted down. A figure stepped out of that grace, steel dazzling as it closed the distance with frightening speed.
Two blades fell.
Clang!
Sparks sang against a black edge that had parried both cuts as if they were taps on a door.
"'Flower Sword' Vista," the man observed, amber eyes opening with cold clarity. "So you're the Whitebeard Pirates' strongest swordsman."
"Hawk-Eyes… Dracule Mihawk."
Yoru hummed in Mihawk's grip. His cloak stirred like a dark tide. He flicked a glance at Whitebeard—still squared off with Darren—and spoke with a hint of regret. "I'd like to test the World's Strongest myself. But I doubt Darren-san would appreciate it."
Darren-san?
Vista blinked, wrong-footed. Weren't the Warlords supposed to loathe Darren? And why were all of them moving to his cadence? Even a Marine Admiral like Sengoku couldn't always make them heel.
"You still have time to be distracted?" Mihawk's gaze sharpened. Yoru's low keen shoved Vista a step back.
Vista's pupils tightened at the lethal rhythm of that blade. He drew, crossed steel, and met the young Hawk-Eyes head-on.
A thunderous bellow cracked the din.
Diamond Jozu vaulted off the Moby Dick and charged, a juggernaut of flashing facets barreling for Doflamingo. Sunlight shattered off him in a hundred points.
"Shining Crash!!"
"Kishishishi—this one's mine!" Moria crowed, impatient to join Bullet, Crocodile, and Mihawk. A warped shadow peeled from his feet and hardened into a pitch-black lance, screaming toward Jozu.
"Shadow's Lance!"
"I'm the world's hardest diamond!" Jozu roared, and met it with a fist the size of a cannon.
Clang!!
The lance whirled away, useless as straw. Moria's grin broke. Under Fisher Tiger's bemused stare, color climbed his cheeks; he tore his jagged greatsword free.
"Fine—then I'll carve you up!"
Purple lightning crawled the blade as he hacked down with vicious force.
Boom!!
They collided like crashing artillery, a ring of pressure tearing outward.
That impact lit the field.
Whitebeard's men vaulted from the rail in a surge, weapons up, legs pumping for Doflamingo.
"Fish-Man Karate—Million True Fists!"
Fisher Tiger's roar rolled the shore. A shockfront of blows sent pirates flying as he plunged into the melee.
Above them, the threads reached their apex—then fell like snow-white meteors and drove deep along the island's rim.
A colossal birdcage snapped shut around the island.
"Damn it! Pops—comms are down!"
"The cage is jamming everything!"
"We're boxed in!"
"These threads won't cut!"
A pirate hacked at a strand; his blade slipped off without a nick.
"I see," Whitebeard said, unchanged, eyes on the Vice Admiral. "So that's your little trick, Marine brat…"
"You that sure you can beat me?"
"You don't know till you try," Darren said, grinning. "And I'm the one calling the shots now."
Their eyes met—sparks in still air.
Bang.
Bang.
They vanished from where they stood.
"Then show me," Whitebeard laughed, and brought Murakumogiri down in a storming arc, crimson-black lightning exploding along the steel.
Darren's body darkened as he slipped into his Demon Form; a savage smile split his face. He drove a thunder punch to meet the blow.
BOOM!!!
A shockwave split the heavens, netting the sky with crimson-black lightning.
The earth shook; the mountains answered.
---
At the same time, atop the Red Line in Mary Geoise, the Holy Land, Fleet Admiral Kong climbed the Stairway to Heaven. Pale figures watched in silence as he reached the World Government's doors.
A warm breeze moved the golden wheat on his epaulettes. Kong drew a breath, lifted his chin, and pushed inside.
Within the Chamber of Deliberation, five ancient figures radiated a quiet, terrible danger. Some stood, some sat; none bothered to look up.
"Kong," Saint Saturn said, eyes on his teacup. "You're here."
Kong strode in, steps measured and solemn. "Fleet Admiral 'Steel Bone' Kong, reporting to the Gorosei, Your Excellencies."
"How goes the battle?"
Kong nodded, pride edging his voice. "Sengoku's fleet has entered the Miracle Sea and is moving to encircle Miracle Island. The Roger Pirates won't slip away this time."
"As for Vice Admiral Darren—his Warlord strike force has intercepted the Whitebeard Pirates."
Saint Topman Warcury chuckled, pleased. "That little brat Darren… he delivers. He's never failed us yet."
"Precisely why," Kong said, seizing the moment, "I formally recommend Vice Admiral Rogers Darren for promotion to Marine Admiral."
To be continued...