From the falling isle, the Sphinx Guards and the pirates under the White Wolf surged into Akropolis Port like a tide.
Because it was a surprise attack, nearly half the Marine soldiers weren't ready.
So—
a line of elite officers threw themselves to the very front to buy time for the rest.
But the moment Jorul and Jarul appeared, sweat poured down those officers' faces.
"Bokakaka! Harold-kou and that brat Magnus set the tone—us two old bones can't be outdone."
"Zapapapa—then let's try it: our combo, after a hundred years."
They were captains of the Giant Warrior Pirates too.
Dorry and Brogy were just past a hundred—about thirty in human—still growing.
But Jorul and Jarul were three hundred forty years old—
in human terms, centenarians.
Left in their original state, those elders might not beat even five-year-old Linlin—just two creaky grandpas.
But with Stussy's youth tonic returning them to around a hundred—
the world would remember
why they were hailed as heroes of the giants.
Their weapons, like Dorry and Brogy's, were sword-axes. As their words fell, their gazes turned sharp and solemn.
At over twenty meters tall, they pressed the Marine officers as if with a mountain.
In the same instant, they stepped forward.
"Hakoku!!!"
Within five minutes of the White Wolf's landing, following Magnus and Harold, Jorul and Jarul unleashed that vast-range, monstrous attack again.
Back on Sabaody,
Dorry and Brogy together had gravely wounded Kong in just two strikes.
With youth restored, Jorul and Jarul
were even stronger than Dorry and Brogy.
So when the two attacked in concert, they pressed a group of Marine officers with a force beyond an Admiral.
Death!
This time, whether Ardent and Portman liked it or not,
they had to move.
Just what the White Wolf had shown already had traded out all Marine and CP apex for apex.
And—
"Rona didn't come?"
Ardent didn't know whether to feel relief or regret. If the White Wolf had one more Admiral-class top fighter at this moment,
it would be the straw that broke the camel's back.
At least for the Marines and CP,
they'd be out of answers.
Relief, because Rona wasn't here—perhaps she didn't want to fight former comrades—and so hadn't joined this war between the White Wolf and the Government.
Regret, because she had once been a blade on their side.
Had Rona not left,
they'd have held more cards against the White Wolf.
Too late for ifs.
Ardent and Portman were, indeed, the last era's Marine pinnacles.
Age had blunted them—power dulled, stamina drained—but when they moved now, their performance still matched those old titles.
Jorul and Jarul's combined strike could crush ordinary Admirals—yet Ardent and Portman, together, stopped it head-on.
"Mountain—Quake—"
Ardent, man as mountain—short in stature, but when his Conqueror's flared, even Magnus glanced over.
"Interesting."
Kong and Ortega were, in truth, Magnus's juniors; it was Ardent and Portman who were of Magnus's generation.
Magnus's current form so often made people forget he was over seventy, nearly eighty—leading them to lump him with Kong or Rona in age.
In reality,
Ardent and Portman, with their white-streaked beards, were what Magnus should look like now—and he couldn't keep staking life and limb every fight the way Kong and Ortega did.
At this age, one bad wound and not even Life Return's secrets could fully restore you; with every bout, your state slipped.
So Ardent and Portman had rarely acted.
But today, they had no choice.
"Ugetsu-ryu: Falling Moon!"
Ardent was pure body arts; Portman, pure sword. The two, with Sebas, had once been the "three Admirals" of a bygone era.
Fifteen years ago, Ortega took Ardent's Admiral seat. Ten years ago, Rona took Portman's. Five years ago, Kong should have taken Sebas's—
but before then, Sebas died to Magnus, becoming the first sitting Admiral in a century to fall to a pirate.
Ardent and Portman had long dreamed of washing away that shame.
Reality went beyond anything they had imagined.
Magnus had been a pirate forty-plus years—and this was the first time they properly faced him.
And upon meeting,
they realized their plans were all smoke.
They couldn't do a thing to him.
Boom————!
Joined, Ardent and Portman stopped Jorul and Jarul's combo at last. Seeing them act, the Marines' flagging spirits jolted back.
"It's the Marshal!"
"And the Chief of Staff!"
"The lords are fighting on the front line—how can we give in?"
"For justice!"
"We won't lose!"
...
The Marines' rising morale finally blunted the White Wolf's opening surge. The quickly reorganized lines turned the surprise assault into a tug-of-war.
At that sight, Ardent finally let his clenched heart fall.
"Magnus—as Marshal, I will not let your ambition to upend the world succeed!"
"Your soldiers are a rabble."
"How could they defeat Marines forged by trials and countless battles?"
In Ardent's view, those pirate crews Magnus had gathered were driven by gain—no loyalty.
Once the White Wolf showed weakness, their morale would collapse; then the counterattack would begin.
"Haha, is that so?"
Magnus wasn't about to argue. He would show Ardent—and those pirates—
so what if they were a rabble?
As long as he stood, as long as he didn't fall, the White Wolf's momentum would smother the Marines.
Because it was the "force" he had amassed, year after year.
"Soldier for soldier, general for general, king for king!"
Magnus eyed Stephens and Grindevin before him and laughed. "Just you two—block me?"
Grindevin had shifted to a half-man, half-hawk beast form, stronger than he'd been at Elbaf five years ago.
In the fight at Magra, he had lost to Rocks—but gained the crack to grow stronger.
After a certain lord gave him a devil's pact, Grindevin broke through fully, becoming a true Admiral-class.
If they fought again,
he believed he would not lose to Rocks.
With "immortality" upon him, Grindevin had grown fiercer—his style more reckless than before.
He forgot this:
the step he bled five years to take,
to Magnus was already nothing.
Magnus could now sneer:
An Admiral—so what?
He streaked like lightning. Stephens and Grindevin together made him work to break through—
but—
splitting them apart for a moment was child's play.
"Newgate—this one's yours. Can you handle him?"
Magnus's Conqueror-wreathed hand closed like a dragon's claw, seizing Grindevin mid-flight—
then he flung him down with a twist.
Not far away
stood the White Wolf's core, with Newgate at the fore.
Seeing Grindevin, Newgate's eyes lit.
"Leave him to me!"
He'd heard Rocks beat a CP top dog—didn't know it was the man before him—but if he took down Grindevin, wouldn't that mean he'd nearly closed the gap with Rocks?
Magnus's thought had been to have Newgate and the others gang up on Grindevin—but Newgate leapt first.
A white sphere bloomed in Newgate's hand.
As Grindevin hurtled at him, Newgate gathered force.
"Gura Gura: Airquake!"
Grindevin tried to scrub off the inertia of Magnus's throw—but the Conqueror's that clung to him like living will invaded his body, forcing his beast form to recede.
Only as he was about to crash into Newgate did he finally shake off the lingering Conqueror's.
He tried to evade—
too late.
But—
"Losing to that brat Rocks was one thing. I won't stumble on the same stone twice!"
Grindevin snarled. Power surged; talons bloomed from his fingers as he slashed for Newgate.
"Eagle Lance!"
He lacked Conqueror's, so he couldn't coat with it—but his Armament had long reached internal destruction, and his Observation could glimpse the future.
Foreseeing the future is legend to common Marines and pirates, but among apex it's almost standard.
The difference is how far ahead you see—
a long horizon for some, a heartbeat or two for others.
As he crashed toward a head-on clash,
Grindevin saw it:
his fingers shattered by Newgate's quake—his entire arm twisted off.
"Impossible!?"
His eyes bulged. He didn't believe it—but momentum gave him no second option.
His talons met the milky halo in Newgate's hand.
And—
crrraaaack—
The air spiderwebbed; his fingers splintered like glass; his whole arm twisted like a rope. Agony contorted his face.
"Damn brat!!!"
Grindevin roared. He had Imu's "immortality," yes—but his pain threshold wasn't yet tempered.
Ten fingers, one heart.
Without that undying body, Newgate's blow would have ruined his arm and gutted his combat power.
Even so, Newgate didn't walk away clean.
Piercing Haki scored five bone-deep lines down his forearm—a price for his recklessness.
"So this is a true top fighter..."
With one arm limp, Grindevin made Newgate feel the gap between himself and the apex.
His firepower was there—
but if Magnus hadn't constrained Grindevin, the man would never have given him a straight-up exchange.
"Linlin! Ripley-neesan!"
"Got it!"
"Heh, I thought you'd bull ahead like always, Newgate."
Ripley's tease tugged at Newgate's mouth.
He didn't like women fighting, but he wasn't stupid. If you can't win alone—
this is a battlefield.
Before the war, Magnus had made it clear: war isn't a place to be willful. Whenever you can team up—never solo.
He might have surpassed Ripley to become the strongest under Magnus—
but Ripley and Linlin weren't far behind.
Newgate was around the "two hundred million" mark.
Ripley and Linlin had to be one seventy, one eighty.
With the initiative seized,
the three might meet a plain Admiral-class like Grindevin head-on.
"Combined strike!"
"Giant's Spear!"
Ripley and Linlin, left and right, swung fists larger than Grindevin himself.
Boom!!!
Downing the healing draught Stussy had prepared,
Newgate dove back in without a word.
"Immortal," is it?
Then we'll hit you until you never have time to heal.
With a single opening, Magnus let Newgate and the others shoulder an Admiral-class for him—proof that crewmates who once couldn't even approach such battles had finally grown up.
Now, before Magnus, only one remained.
"Stephens—it looks like it's just you and me now, doesn't it?"
Magnus grinned at the suited elder.
(End of Chapter)
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