Compared to the appearance of the golden platform, it was the brazen descent of the Golden Lion Shiki—and his immediate clash with Admiral Akainu—that plunged Marineford Plaza into even greater chaos.
One was a lawless sky pirate, arrogant and untamed.
The other was a Marine Admiral who upheld Absolute Justice, ruthless in both creed and execution.
Their fighting styles were equally unrestrained—broad, devastating, and wide-ranging.
In other words—
Neither of them gave a damn about collateral damage.
"Lion's Thousand Cuts Valley!"
"Great Eruption!"
Countless razor-sharp golden slashes collided midair with a torrential flood of searing magma. Explosions ripped through the sky in relentless succession.
The residual shockwaves of the slashes carved the plaza into fractured ruin. Splattering magma rained down like fiery meteors, burning Marines and pirates alike without discrimination.
Screams erupted from every direction. Casualties mounted at an alarming rate.
Simply put, a flying Golden Lion was a nightmare to contain. With effortless mobility, he locked Akainu in a vicious long-range bombardment duel.
On the execution platform—
Fleet Admiral Sengoku, who had only just finished announcing Ace's bloodline, stared at the spiraling disorder below.
His fists clenched so tightly the knuckles whitened.
"Shiki, you bastard…!!"
"Wasn't it enough to become a legend of the past?! You had to jump in and stir everything up?!"
Yet even more troublesome than the clash between Shiki and Akainu were the actions of two of the Seven Warlords.
"Fufufufufu… what delightful chaos."
Donquixote Doflamingo flicked his fingers lazily. Invisible strings laced through the battlefield.
At times they sliced pirates into grotesque fragments. At others, they jerked unfortunate Marine soldiers into place as living shields, treating "allies" as nothing more than disposable props.
"Black Box!"
Nearby, Gecko Moria cackled as he harvested freshly fallen shadows from the dead, greedily swelling his own power. The collapse of Marine formations meant nothing to him.
These two weren't fighting for any side.
They were reveling in slaughter.
"Sengoku, this can't continue."
A steady, resolute voice cut through the noise.
Former Marine Admiral, "Black Arm" Zephyr, could no longer stand by.
His gaze swept across the young Marines screaming beneath the stray shockwaves and indiscriminate devastation. Pain and fury burned in his eyes.
They were the future of the Marines.
"SHIKI!!!"
With a roar, Zephyr flung aside his coat of justice and leapt from the level beneath the execution platform, crashing into the heart of the battlefield.
Those arms—tempered by countless wars—were once again cloaked in heavy Armament Haki.
The name "Black Arm" returned to the stage.
Landing with a thunderous impact, Zephyr surged forward in a straight charge toward the Golden Lion—the greatest source of widespread chaos.
"Your rampage ends here!!"
His arrival instantly relieved some of Akainu's burden. At the same time, he aimed to contain Shiki's massive shockwaves within a manageable radius—
And to keep a vigilant eye on Doflamingo and Moria, those two unchecked lunatics.
...…
Meanwhile—
On the golden platform floating high above Marineford—
Whitebeard knelt slightly on one leg, one massive hand pressed firmly against his chest where waves of tearing agony still pulsed.
His other hand gripped Murakumogiri tightly, using it to brace himself upright.
Yet there was no fear of death on his face.
No bitterness over decline.
Instead, his lips curled upward.
"Kuhahahaha… Gern."
His voice was hoarse—but still grand.
"Your punch… is far heavier than it was back when you first barged into the New World, not knowing your place, and challenged me."
In truth, Whitebeard understood perfectly.
This was reality.
Old age. Illness. And Gern's power, refined to its absolute summit.
If he could still exchange blows evenly with a King at his peak in this condition—
That would be the true absurdity.
Crushing defeat was inevitable.
Gern Reginald Sigmar watched the wounded titan forcing himself upright.
His expression remained calm.
Yet something complex flickered deep in his eyes.
"Whitebeard."
"Hm?"
"What I desire is not victory over you as you are now."
"The one I wish to face… is the 'strongest' you."
Whitebeard paused.
Gern stepped forward, each step matched with a sentence.
"Not the you I challenged when I first entered the New World.
Not the you I clashed with later over territory and influence."
His voice rose sharply.
"But the one I met long ago… in the West Blue—when I was still weak."
"The man whose face bore invincibility and boldness without equal. The man who, simply by standing there, made me feel small."
"The man who first made me understand the vastness of this world—what it truly meant to be a 'King.'"
Whitebeard fell silent.
Then he laughed again—lower this time.
"Kuhahahaha…"
Understanding.
Loneliness.
Nostalgia.
"Gern… you brat…"
He lifted his head.
"Ever since that final, exhilarating clash with that damn Gol D. Roger… standing alone at the peak of the sea…"
"You've been lonely for a long time too, haven't you?"
It wasn't a question.
It was a statement.
He saw it clearly—the same solitude he and Roger once shared at the summit.
The loneliness of those who stood above all others.
Whitebeard sighed slowly.
"But… sorry, Gern."
"That wish of yours… I can't grant it."
It sounded almost as though he intended to pass that expectation of "the strongest" onto the coming generation.
"Let the brats of the new era… just like you once were…"
"They don't need to."
Gern cut him off.
The moment his words fell—
A small figure in an unremarkable blue cloak appeared silently behind him.
The hooded silhouette raised one hand, palm upward.
"Vmmm…"
A strange, warm peach-colored flame flickered into existence in the center of that palm.
Whitebeard's brows furrowed in confusion.
Then—
Gern's lips moved silently, forming a few words meant only for him.
The confusion vanished.
In its place emerged something far more complex—
Shock.
Recognition.
Gratitude.
And… understanding.
The smile widened.
Then burst into booming laughter.
"KUHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!"
What incredible… persistence.
What magnificent… hospitality.
The laughter shook the golden stage, the very air resonating with its force.
"You really have… prepared the most perfect curtain call for me!!!"
His eyes reignited with blazing light.
Because this—
This was a true final battle.
A chance to depart this world in the most glorious way possible.
"Still, you damn Marine brat!!!"
"Do you truly believe you can defeat me?"
"Defeat the man called the 'Strongest in the World'?!"
Gern's gaze sharpened.
"Whitebeard… that strike in the West Blue, when I first met you and lost…"
"It's time I took it back."
...
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