The silver-haired phantom moved nimbly behind the the rookies, shielding them from the Admiral's onslaught.
From the center of the apocalyptic plaza, standing amidst a ruined landscape of shattered glaciers and smoking craters, Edward Newgate watched the retreat.
The World's Strongest Man leaned heavily on his massive bisento. His broad, muscular chest was marred by deep, searing burns and frostbite scars.
"Gurararara..."
He was bleeding from a dozen different wounds, his breathing labored. But as his golden eyes tracked the small group of rookies and his shackled son making their way toward the sea, a profound sense of peace washed over the Emperor.
It was done.
Ace was off the scaffold.
Now, Whitebeard only had one final duty remaining: ensuring they left this island alive.
"You think you can just watch them leave, Whitebeard?!"
Boom!
A terrifying, suffocating heat erupted from the ice just ten yards to the Emperor's left. Admiral Akainu rose from a bubbling pool of molten rock, his entire upper body a churning mass of dark red magma.
The Red Dog's eyes burned with a fanatical, obsessive hatred. He had seen Ace escape the executioners. He was not going to let the bloodline of Gol D. Roger survive the day.
"DAI FUNKA!" (Great Eruption!)
BOOM!
Akainu lunged forward, ignoring the Emperor entirely. He launched a colossal, galleon-sized fist of magma over Whitebeard's head, aiming directly for the retreating brothers a quarter-mile away.
"Hm?"
Whitebeard's golden eyes narrowed.
GRIP.
The Emperor shifted his grip on his bisento, clenching his left fist. A blinding white orb of vibrational energy gathered around his knuckles, humming with the apocalyptic frequency of an earthquake.
Whitebeard punched the air directly in the path of the magma meteor.
CRACKKKKK....
KRA-BOOMMM!
The atmosphere shattered like fragile glass. A massive, directed shockwave of pure kinetic force tore through the air, violently colliding with the magma. The sheer impact instantly dispersed the Dai Funka, turning the devastating attack into a harmless shower of cooling pumice stones that rained down upon the empty ice.
Akainu gritted his teeth, his magma boiling furiously. "You old fool!"
"Dare to look past me, magma brat?!" Whitebeard bellowed, his voice echoing with absolute, fatherly wrath.
SWOOSH.
Whitebeard grinned and took a massive, thundering step forward.
"Gurarararara!"
He physically inserted his towering, muscular frame directly between the advancing Admirals and the retreating Straw Hats.
He became a literal, immovable mountain of flesh and Haki, a living wall that completely blocked Akainu and Aokiji's line of sight to the bay.
THUMP!
"Your opponent," Whitebeard declared, slamming the butt of his bisento into the permafrost, causing the entire island to tremble, "is me."
"Hooooo...."
Aokiji, standing atop a nearby ridge of ice, exhaled a long, cold breath of mist. He looked at the towering Emperor, then glanced over Whitebeard's shoulder toward the distant figures of the Straw Hats and Rayleigh.
"This is becoming a very big problem," Aokiji muttered lazily, rubbing the back of his neck.
Whitebeard ignored the Admirals for a fraction of a second. His golden eyes locked onto the distant, silver-haired figure of the Dark King.
The battlefield was deafening—a chaotic symphony of roaring cannons, clashing steel, and dying screams. But between legends who had conquered the Grand Line, distance and noise were irrelevant. Their Will carried their intent.
"OYE!"
"RAYLEIGH!" Whitebeard's voice boomed, amplified by his sheer inhuman vocals cut through the chaos to reach the Dark King's ears.
Clang!
A quarter-mile away, Rayleigh parried a devastating light-kick from Kizaru, locking blades with the Admiral. The Dark King turned his head slightly, his sharp eyes meeting Whitebeard's golden gaze across the sea of Marines.
"My son..."
"Don't let him catch a cold!"
Whitebeard roared, the statement carrying the absolute, heavy weight of a father entrusting his most precious treasure to a former rival.
Rayleigh didn't hesitate.
Bam!
GRIN.
He violently shoved Kizaru backward with a burst of Armament Haki. The Dark King stood tall, a fierce, unapologetic grin breaking across his weathered face.
He looked at Whitebeard, the memories of their countless clashes in the old era flashing between them. They had fought over territory, over treasure, over pride. But today, they were united by something far greater.
"I was always here for the kid, Newgate!" Rayleigh shouted back, his voice ringing with the clarity of a newly forged blade.
He raised his black sword, pointing it directly at the swarming Marines.
"I'm his Uncle, after all!"
For a moment, the apocalyptic tension of the Summit War seemed to evaporate around the Emperor.
"That so?"
Edward Newgate threw his head back.
"GURARARARARA!"
Whitebeard's booming, joyous laughter shook the very bedrock of Marineford. It was a laugh utterly devoid of fear or hesitation .
It was the sound of a man who had completely accepted his fate, finding absolute peace in the knowledge that his sons would live on to sail the seas.
"That's good!" Whitebeard rumbled, his smile wide and ferocious.
"That's very good!"
"Now..."
He turned his attention back to the two Admirals standing before him. The peace in his eyes vanished, replaced instantly by the terrifying, unadulterated wrath of the strongest pirate alive.
He gripped his bisento with both hands, the white spheres of quake-energy forming simultaneously on the blade and his fist.
"Now..." Whitebeard growled, the air around him violently vibrating.
"Come, brats!"
.
.
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A/N: My other fanfic "Dragon Ball: My Talent System" is now serialising after the hiatus again. Do check it out. That one is more OP MC, R18+ type, if you that's your tea. Peace.