A trace of madness showed in the captain's eyes as he tried to turn the battle around with one final burst of firepower.
Under his command, the main turret began turning with difficulty, barely managing to aim its barrel toward the blazing volcanic crater in the distance.
However, fate seemed to have already decided the outcome of this battle.
The cannon had only just lifted, without even having time to fire, when the surrounding heat burned the barrel until it glowed red.
The precise brass gauges on the control panel could not withstand the terrifying temperature either. In an instant, they melted into streams of liquid metal that flowed down the surface of the console.
The sailors on deck fell into absolute terror.
The soles of their military boots began giving off wisps of greenish smoke, filling the air with a sharp, choking smell.
Fear and helplessness were written across every face.
They all understood clearly that they were trapped in a disaster they could not escape.
Far away, at the edge of the crater, a figure covered in flowing, scorching magma slowly stood up.
He was Karn, the man known as the "Son of Magma."
His body was tall and powerful, and every inch of his skin radiated blazing light, blending completely with the surrounding flames.
Golden light like the core of the earth flickered in his pupils, deep and mysterious enough that no one dared meet his gaze directly.
He casually waved a hand, as if merely brushing a stray lock of hair away from his ear.
Yet that seemingly careless movement caused a shocking change.
Three magma spheres hovering in the air howled toward the fleet under his control.
At first, the magma spheres were simply round, but as they flew, they suddenly began to transform strangely.
As though they had been given life, they rapidly stretched and changed shape in midair, turning into three fire phoenixes with their wings spread wide.
The three phoenixes burned with raging flames, their feathers flashing with dazzling light. Their cries were sharp and miserable, like curses from the depths of hell.
At terrifying speed, they drilled precisely into the ammunition magazines of each warship.
In an instant, one explosion after another roared without end.
Flames shot into the sky, illuminating the entire sea as brightly as day.
The warships shook violently amid the explosions, fragments flying in every direction.
Karn stepped across the rolling magma and walked with steady strides onto the gradually sinking flagship.
His figure looked especially towering in the firelight, like a god of war descending into the mortal world.
He bent down and picked up the Marine officer's sword from the deck, where molten steel was still flowing.
It was a blade symbolizing honor and authority.
Yet under the touch of his scorching fingers, the sword softened like dough and was easily reshaped into a miniature demon statue.
The statue was vivid and lifelike, every detail displaying the demon's cruelty and evil.
"Tell Akainu's spirit," Karn said, his voice low and powerful, like a rumble from deep underground, "the romance of Logia is something he'll never understand."
After saying that, he hurled the statue into the boiling seawater.
The statue struck the water, sending up a huge splash before it was swallowed by the surging waves.
...
Elsewhere.
A violent wind carried a raging blizzard, roaring like an enraged beast.
The miserable screams were like fragile spider silk in that overwhelming snowstorm, torn apart without mercy and scattered into the boundless world.
Across the endless ice field, the icebreaker Mammoth stood alone yet unyielding.
On its side armor were six deep claw marks, each one half a meter deep, telling the story of a terrifying battle from the past.
Those savage traces looked like marks carved by time itself, recording the strength and horror of an unknown power.
Inside the control cabin, the atmosphere was so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
The helmsman still held the posture of turning the wheel. His upper body had frozen there like a statue, his eyes filled with terror and despair.
What made the scene truly horrifying, however, was that his lower body had already vanished, leaving only a shocking trail of blood spreading slowly across the cold metal floor.
"It's an Ancient Zoan! The Saber-Toothed Tiger Fruit!"
The lookout's eyes widened, his voice filled with shock and fear, but before the shout had fully faded, it stopped abruptly.
Before anyone could react, a gray shadow flashed past like a ghost.
In an instant, the entire lookout tower was bitten in half like a fragile biscuit and collapsed with a crash.
Fragments scattered everywhere, producing crisp yet desolate sounds in the blizzard.
On the ice, a giant covered in long gray-blue fur slowly straightened up.
His enormous body was like a moving hill, radiating a chilling aura.
Looking closer, one could see scraps of Marine uniform still hanging from the corners of his mouth, proof that he had just torn through a brutal fight.
A pair of amber vertical pupils gleamed strangely in the blizzard, bright enough to terrify anyone, as if they could pierce straight through the soul.
"Roooar—!!"
A thunderous roar shook the sky.
The sound exploded like thunder, shattering the thick ice beneath him.
Immediately afterward, he lunged toward the fleet again like an arrow leaving the string.
This time, people could clearly see that both his hands had completely transformed into beast claws. His powerful arms were covered in thick fur, and ten claws sharper than military sabers flashed with cold light, tearing through sturdy bulletproof armor as easily as paper.
Even more terrifying was the fact that his wild charge left burning claw prints across the ice.
That was the unique Ancient Scorch Mark of an awakened Ancient Zoan.
The raging flames looked especially glaring against the pure white snow and ice, like hellfire from the underworld, reducing everything they touched to ash.
When the surviving Marines curled up in terror inside the lifeboats, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, the mysterious predator from a lost civilization was crouching leisurely atop the mast.
He slowly licked the blood from the tips of his claws, his eyes revealing a lofty arrogance and disdain.
The falling snowflakes vaporized the instant they reached a point ten centimeters from his body, blocked by an invisible barrier.
This strange phenomenon revealed the unique Ancient Field possessed by rare Zoan users.
At that moment, the brilliant aurora behind him wove together into a strange and mysterious totem, like a summons from another world.
The totem seemed to announce a cruel and unchangeable truth to the world.
On this ice field forgotten by time and buried beneath snow, the seemingly unstoppable steel tide of modern warships would ultimately lose to the awakened fangs of antiquity.
It was a power born from the instincts of life itself, a mighty existence that surpassed the limits of time and space.