Before Whitebeard had even managed to steady his massive frame, Gern Reginald Sigmar was already upon him again—closing the distance without hesitation.
But Whitebeard was still Whitebeard.
Even driven into such a disadvantage, his battle-hardened instincts reacted with terrifying speed.
With a violent twist of his torso, muscles bulging like coiled steel cables, he forcibly corrected his balance. Both arms flexed, veins standing out as he swung the supreme naginata Murakumogiri in a savage arc.
"WOOOOOM—!!!"
A dense white aura erupted around the enormous blade, the power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit compressed to its absolute limit. The air screamed as destructive vibrations condensed along its edge.
With a thunderous roar, Whitebeard unleashed it.
A crescent-shaped shockwave tore outward, wide enough to cleave space itself, sweeping horizontally toward the pursuing Gern.
It was a strike that would force even an Admiral to brace with full concentration.
And yet Gern's gaze remained utterly calm.
Because Gern was not an Admiral.
Not an Emperor.
He was a King.
And a King did not tremble.
"Edward Newgate… as you are now, you no longer carry the threat of a 'King.'"
The moment the quake-blade was about to carve into him, Gern did not dodge.
He did not block.
He simply raised his elbow—and with bare flesh, precisely smashed it against the flat of Murakumogiri's blade.
"CLANG—! CRACK—!"
The air shattered.
The slash capable of pulverizing mountains was forcibly arrested by that utterly unreasonable elbow strike.
And Gern did not pause.
In the same instant of impact, his fingers snapped forward, clamping down on the naginata's shaft.
An irresistible, monstrous force surged through the weapon.
"Come here."
Whitebeard's colossal body was violently yanked forward, dragged against his will.
The distance between them vanished.
Face to face.
At point-blank range, Gern's right fist clenched once more. Vibration particles compressed inward, folding into themselves with suffocating density.
"Heavenquake · Star-Piercer."
He spoke the name coldly.
Then his fist drove straight into Whitebeard's unguarded chest.
There was no immediate sound.
The instant his knuckles touched, the very space along the trajectory of the punch warped and caved inward, as though reality itself were being folded.
Not a single trace of force leaked outward.
Every ounce—perfectly contained—was poured directly into Whitebeard's body.
Then—
"BOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!"
A hyper-condensed cylindrical shockwave, over a thousand meters in diameter, erupted from Whitebeard's back—bursting clean through him like a beam of annihilation.
It slammed straight into the frozen tsunami wall at the harbor, the glacial fortress erected by Aokiji.
"Crack… RRRRRRRUMBLE—!!!"
The mountain-sized ice mass was effortlessly pierced, shattered, obliterated into countless glittering fragments that rained from the sky like crystalline dust.
"Puh—!"
Whitebeard could no longer suppress it.
A mouthful of blood—thick, dark, mixed with fragments of ruptured organs—sprayed from his lips.
The light in his eyes dimmed.
That towering, indomitable body seemed suddenly hollowed out, strength torn away.
The horrifying kinetic force contained within that single punch launched him skyward, tracing a brutal arc through the heavens as he was blown high above the battlefield.
For a heartbeat—
Silence.
Just two punches.
That was all.
Marines and pirates alike stood frozen, struck dumb by the overwhelming disparity.
Many had believed Whitebeard would not fall so decisively.
But reality was merciless.
A man who had nearly reached the end of his life could no longer contend with a King in his absolute prime.
"Old Man!!!"
"Help Pops—move!!!"
Blue flames erupted around Marco as he prepared to rocket skyward. "Diamond" Jozu roared, his entire body crystallizing into brilliant facets. "Flower Sword" Vista drew both blades in a flash of steel.
But a demon moved faster.
"BOOM!!!"
Douglas Bullet slammed his foot into the plaza.
The entire square convulsed violently. A savage wave of Haki, tangible as a shock front, blasted outward and forcibly halted the commanders' advance.
In the next blink, Bullet vanished—
—and reappeared directly in front of Marco, who had just taken flight.
A massive palm coated in jet-black Armament Haki ignored the searing blue flames of the Phoenix and clamped around Marco's ankle.
"Stay out of this, little bird!"
With a guttural snarl, Bullet's arm exploded with monstrous strength. He swung Marco like a sack of sand and hurled him toward the ever-slacking Kizaru in the distance.
"Hm?" Kizaru's brow lifted lazily as he was forced to disperse into golden light, narrowly evading the airborne projectile.
Almost simultaneously, Bullet pivoted and threw a brutally straightforward punch at Jozu's diamond-coated fist.
"CLANG!!!"
Jozu's body—hard enough to withstand most attacks in the world—was blasted backward. Tiny fractures spidered across his diamond knuckles.
"Out of the way, Bullet!" Vista's twin blades flashed toward him.
Bullet didn't even look back.
The muscles in his other arm bulged, Armament Haki coating it as he simply endured the slash head-on.
Alone, he held back three of the Whitebeard Pirates' strongest commanders.
And in that lightning-fast exchange—
On the opposite side of the battlefield, "Akainu" Sakazuki's eyes flashed with savage intent.
He saw it.
The perfect opportunity to cooperate with Gern and finish Whitebeard once and for all.
"Great Eruption · Hellhound!"
Without hesitation, his right arm transformed into boiling dark-red magma, stretching forward at blistering speed. A ravenous molten hound burst forth, jaws wide, lunging at the airborne Whitebeard, who had yet to regain control.
If it connected—
Half his skull would be gone.
Certain death.
But then—
"SHWING—!!!"
A pale golden flying slash cut across the sky, arriving a split-second later yet striking first.
"BOOM!!"
Magma and blade collided violently.
The Hellhound was cleanly severed mid-charge.
Through the rising smoke, a wild, unrestrained silhouette descended slowly, landing before Akainu.
Golden Lion Shiki clenched a thick cigar between his teeth, hands resting casually atop the hilts of his legendary blades, Oto and Kogarashi.
A disdainful smirk curved across his face as he regarded the darkening expression of the magma Admiral.
"Listen here, magma brat… when top-tier men clash, you'd best keep your nose out of it."
He tilted his head slightly, grin widening.
"Of course… if your hands are itching that badly—"
"I'll play with you."
The Golden Lion had entered the war.
...
At the same time—
As Whitebeard was blasted skyward by Gern's Heavenquake · Star-Piercer, blood spraying into the air—
As the battlefield fell into stunned silence at the overwhelming display—
Gild Tesoro, who had been observing Gern's movements intently, waiting for this exact moment, saw his chance.
A brilliant light flared in his eyes.
"This is it. The timing Admiral Gern was waiting for."
Without hesitation, he slammed both palms down onto the ground.
Instantly, an invisible ripple spread outward from beneath his hands, sweeping across the entirety of Marineford Plaza.
And then—
A sight that left countless jaws slack.
From cracks in the earth, from the corners of buildings, even from the very air itself—countless particles of gold dust emerged, as if summoned by divine command.
They surged together.
Merged.
Transformed into a roaring golden torrent.
"Rise!!!"
Tesoro threw his arms wide, voice ringing out.
"My stage!"
In the next instant, beneath the gaze of the entire world—
The sunlight above Marineford was swallowed.
A vast floating plane—an island-sized platform forged entirely from liquid gold—materialized in midair.
Its scale was so immense it blotted out the sky itself, casting a colossal shadow over nearly half the battlefield.
Simultaneously, the specially arranged Transponder Snails Tesoro had secretly installed throughout Marineford snapped their eyes open.
Every lens turned upward.
Focused on the golden stage in the heavens.
Tesoro turned toward Gern.
Dropping to one knee, right hand pressed to his chest, he bowed deeply.
"Admiral Gern."
"The stage you requested…"
"I, Tesoro, have prepared it."
"Gold as your platform. The world as your backdrop."
He lowered his head further.
"From here on…"
"The spotlight belongs to you."