Big Mom stared at Sakazuki in disbelief.
His chest was a ruin. A gaping void where his heart should have been. Organs shattered. Blood pouring freely.
And yet—
He still stood.
"You don't even have a heart," she growled, eyes widening. "How are you still alive?"
Even Marco felt a chill.
He had crushed that heart with his own hand. Felt it collapse between his fingers. No trick. No illusion.
And yet the man refused to fall.
The sheer physical tenacity of monsters in this world… it defied logic.
But Marco knew one thing with absolute certainty.
As long as Sakazuki was flesh and blood, losing his heart meant death.
Willpower could delay it.
Aramaki's life force could stall it.
But death was inevitable.
The sky ignited.
Countless magma fists rained down like apocalyptic meteors. Some targeted Marco and Big Mom directly. Others arced high before descending indiscriminately across the battlefield.
Cake Island trembled under the inferno.
Marco didn't hesitate.
He shot forward.
"Destruction Black Flame: Phoenix Wings!"
Black fire devoured him. His body expanded, transforming into a colossal dark phoenix, wings spanning dozens of meters. The air itself screamed as he crashed headlong into Sakazuki.
The impact shook the forest.
Black flames exploded outward, engulfing Sakazuki completely. The vine-tubes sustaining him shriveled and burned away one by one, severed by the consuming fire.
Without Aramaki's life force—
Sakazuki's borrowed time ended.
The raining magma faltered.
The Meteor Volcano weakened… then collapsed entirely.
Within the swirling sea of black fire, Sakazuki finally fell.
He hit the ground heavily.
And did not rise again.
In his final fading moments, memories surfaced.
A young recruit filled with burning conviction.
The Marine Academy under Zephyr.
Being called a "monster."
Receiving the Magma-Magma Fruit—the most destructive Logia—by order of the World Government.
Rising to Admiral. Crushing pirates without mercy.
Later… the duel with Kuzan.
Ten days of hell on Punk Hazard.
Victory.
Fleet Admiral.
And Kuzan's departure.
That had been a clash of ideals.
But Borsalino?
Why had Borsalino left?
Had he truly driven them away?
Was Absolute Justice… wrong?
Was he nothing more than a tyrant cloaked in righteousness?
If Kuzan had become Fleet Admiral instead… would the Marines be different now?
The questions lingered—
Unanswered.
Darkness swallowed him.
Inside Marco's mind, the system chimed.
"Mission accomplished. Successfully killed Fleet Admiral Sakazuki. Reward: 10,000 attribute points."
Marco exhaled slowly.
20,000 attribute points.
Victory was within reach.
One more objective remained—drive the Marines from Cake Island.
But Marco's eyes were not those of a man satisfied with retreat.
He turned toward Big Mom.
"Can you still fight?" he asked calmly.
Black flames flickered around him like a second heartbeat.
Because he wasn't aiming to repel the Marines.
He intended to break them.
"Hmph! Who do you take me for?!"
Big Mom's laughter boomed across the battlefield, though the sound lacked its former vitality.
Her current state was dire.
She had burned fifteen years of her lifespan.
By all rights, she now stood as an eighty-two-year-old woman, sustained only by the forcibly absorbed souls of tens of thousands of Homies. Those souls flickered around her like pale wisps of borrowed light—draining away with every passing second.
Once they were exhausted…
She would return to the frail body of an old woman.
But she was one of the Four Emperors.
A sovereign of the seas.
And she would never allow anyone to witness weakness in her eyes.
"The Marines dared to turn my kingdom into ruins," she sneered, bloodshot eyes blazing. "You think I'll let them leave? I'll take every last year of their lifespan!"
Marco gave a slow nod.
If they had chosen to stand against the World Government, then the Marines were an unavoidable enemy. The Three Emperors Alliance could not survive without breaking the Navy's backbone.
"In that case," Marco said calmly, black flames flickering behind him, "we move together. We kill Aramaki first. Then we hunt down Fujitora. Once the Admirals fall, the rest of the Marines are nothing."
Big Mom's grin widened, feral and vicious.
"Exactly what I was thinking," she growled. "But first—we sink their warships. If they escape, I will lose my pride. Leave the ships to me."
Marco paused briefly.
He had little interest in slaughtering ordinary Marines. Killing them wouldn't earn attribute points. His focus lay on top-tier combatants.
But Big Mom was no subordinate.
She would fight her way.
"…Fine," Marco agreed. "We move."
Meanwhile, Aramaki had retreated from the forest's edge.
He did not immediately issue the withdrawal order.
As a newly appointed Admiral, his authority was not yet absolute. His reputation had not solidified like Sakazuki's. Instinctively, his first thought was to seek the Gorosei's instruction.
Marines rushed toward him.
"Admiral Aramaki! It's terrible!"
His mood was already black as thunderclouds. That phrase only deepened his irritation.
"What now?" he snapped coldly.
An intelligence officer saluted stiffly.
"We've confirmed that Kizaru-san has been defeated by Phoenix Marco. The ten thousand Marines sent to intercept the Phoenix Pirates… have been wiped out. Likely captured alive."
The words struck like another blow.
Aramaki's jaw tightened.
He had already seen Marco's arrival with his own eyes. This report was nothing but a belated confirmation.
"What use is that information now?!" he roared. "Open your eyes! The Phoenix Pirates are already on this island! Telling me this now is meaningless!"
The officer froze, trembling.
Aramaki exhaled sharply, forcing his rage down.
"Signal the fleet. Prepare for immediate retreat."
"R–Retreat?" the Marine echoed in disbelief.
"This is Fleet Admiral Sakazuki's final order," Aramaki replied coldly.
He did not elaborate.
He simply lifted the Den Den Mushi and dialed.
After a tense pause, the line connected.
A measured, ancient voice answered.
"This is the Gorosei."
Aramaki straightened unconsciously, voice taut with urgency.
"Your Excellencies. The situation has escalated beyond projections. I have critical information to report."
The Den Den Mushi on the other end remained eerily calm.
The voice of the Gorosei came through, cold and measured.
"Aramaki. Compose yourself. You are an Admiral. Do not allow panic to stain that title. We are already aware of the situation."
"—What?!"
Aramaki froze.
He hadn't even begun his report. The battle in the forest had unfolded in moments—no surveillance unit should have transmitted anything that quickly.
Yet they already knew?
The Gorosei continued, their tone lofty and detached.
"Borsalino's defeat was… unexpected. We underestimated Marco. His growth—particularly in Speed—is extraordinary. He may now stand at a level not inferior to Whitebeard in his prime."
The admission was chilling.
After a brief pause, their voice hardened.
"Even so, the broader strategy remains unchanged. The Phoenix Pirates' reinforcement through the Mirror-Mirror Fruit does not alter the objective. Your next priority is absolute: eliminate Big Mom. Regardless of casualties. Kill her first. Withdrawal can be considered afterward."
Aramaki's lips parted, but no words came.
"…My lords," he finally said hoarsely, "that is not what I intended to report."
A faint note of irritation crept into the Den Den Mushi's expression.
"Hmm?"
Aramaki swallowed.
"…Fleet Admiral Sakazuki has fallen. He was killed by Phoenix Marco."
Silence.
Then—
"What did you say?!"
The composure of the Gorosei shattered in an instant.
The air in Mary Geoise seemed to freeze.
"Killed?" one of them demanded sharply. "Explain. How could Marco possibly defeat Sakazuki?"
Aramaki's expression darkened.
"It sounds unbelievable. I know. But it is the truth. After Marco awakened his Phoenix Fruit… the black flames he wielded were beyond our projections. Fleet Admiral Sakazuki… may have underestimated him. They clashed head-on. Marco's power… surpassed expectations."
Even recounting it felt surreal.
The Gorosei's faces turned ashen.
They had only just forced themselves to accept the news of Kizaru's defeat and capture—an outcome that had already shaken their confidence. That alone had been nearly impossible to believe. They had attributed it to carelessness.
But now—
The death of a Fleet Admiral?
Unthinkable.
For a long moment, the five exchanged silent glances, their expressions grim and disbelieving.
Back on Cake Island, Aramaki tightened his grip on the receiver.
"Fleet Admiral Sakazuki's final order," he said heavily, "was retreat. I request authorization to execute that order immediately."
The Den Den Mushi narrowed its eyes.
"What is the battlefield status?"
Aramaki scanned the chaos.
The arrival of the Phoenix Pirates had reignited the Big Mom Pirates' morale. The Marines, once pressing forward with dominance, were now steadily pushed back. Phoenix Commanders rampaged across the field. Pacifista units were being destroyed. Command cohesion was deteriorating.
His jaw clenched.
"The situation is deteriorating rapidly. All major Phoenix Pirate commanders are present. We have lost strategic superiority. Continued engagement risks catastrophic losses."
He paused, then spoke more firmly.
"Fleet Admiral Sakazuki entrusted the retreat order to me in his final moments. I request confirmation from the Gorosei: May the Marines withdraw from Cake Island?"
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