"Whitebeard!"
As Ragnar transformed into Erlang Shen, the god of war with the third eye blazing, the pirates scattered across the sea were shaken to the core.
Suddenly—a roar, like thunder itself, cracked through the night.
The sound tore through the clouds.
Just a single roar, and yet it numbed every ear, split the heavens, and ignited the night sky with thunderous light.
The moon's glow vanished, overwhelmed by the radiance of Ragnar's divine roar, now manifesting as a lightning storm in the sky.
"Gurararara..."
Atop the bow of the Moby Dick,
Whitebeard narrowed his eyes, quelling the shock in his heart. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself.
Then, he stomped both feet down—Boom!—and launched skyward.
"Three-eyed brat... You think you can scare me?"
His own roar thundered out—not divine, but no less awe-inspiring.
It rolled across the sea like a storm surge, bearing the might of a man who once split Marineford in half.
It carried the pressure of one who had once clashed evenly with the Pirate King.
Then—
Clang!
Ragnar raised his three-pointed, double-edged divine blade, and Whitebeard raised Kurohige-kiri—the "Blackbeard Cutter."
At the same time, a dark radiance—black lightning—wrapped around both weapons like shackles forged by the heavens.
The sea raged.
Even before their blades met, a storm surged forth from their will alone.
Waves tens of meters high crashed violently, as if the New World's weather itself submitted to their duel.
The air became thick with pressure—the Haki of Conquerors clashing in an invisible war.
"I am Whitebeard!"
Their eyes locked—two gods of war with vastly different forms, yet equal in majesty.
When their gazes met, infused with haki and divine might, the world itself recoiled.
Boom!
Ragnar stepped forward.
The sea beneath him flattened with the sheer force of the motion.
With both hands gripping his divine blade, he swung.
The air tore open—divine energy surging forward like an avalanche of swords.
At the same instant, Whitebeard roared and brought down his blade with equal fury—cutting through the air like he was shattering the sky.
"It begins!"
"The strongest man in the world!"
"The battle of emperors!"
From every corner of the New World—Yonko commanders, Yamato, Jinbe, and even Red-Haired Shanks's crew—all watched in awe as the two titans clashed.
Clang!
And yet… the blades never met.
Only a meter apart, they halted.
As if an invisible barrier—a force field made of sheer will—refused to allow the collision.
But then—
Crack—BOOM!
The Conqueror's Haki, wrapped around their weapons, exploded in a burst of divine thunder.
A sea of black lightning erupted, ripping through the waters like celestial serpents.
Dozens of jagged trenches split the ocean floor.
BOOM.
Centered on the two warriors, the sea surface collapsed downward violently.
They hadn't even touched.
They stood meters apart—yet the shockwave of their will alone carved out a massive sea basin below their feet.
This was not just a duel.
It was a clash of deities.
But the changes in the surroundings did not affect the two combatants at all.
At this moment, both Ragnar and Whitebeard had bloodshot eyes.
Like two sovereigns locked in a bloody war, their gazes held nothing but each other.
Their hearts were consumed by a single thought:
Kill each other.
"Is that all?"
A disappointed sigh suddenly rang out.
Ragnar's right foot sank heavily, and a surge of divine power burst from his arms into the three-pointed double-edged sword.
"The title and throne of the strongest man in the world... I want them. And the head on your shoulders... I want that too!"
His fierce declaration thundered through the night sky like a divine roar.
Ragnar pressed both hands forward.
The confrontation, which many had believed would become a prolonged stalemate, was abruptly shattered. Empowered by limitless divine might, the three-pointed double-edged sword radiated a blinding divine edge.
The scarlet sphere of energy—formed by their clashing Conqueror's Haki—was instantly split apart. The blade cleaved through it and slashed down toward Kusugawa Kiri under the horrified, panicked gazes of Marco and the others.
The overwhelming force crushed Kusugawa Kiri and pressed it down relentlessly toward Whitebeard's head.
"Dad!"
"No way!"
"Dad actually... lost?!"
The Whitebeard Pirates erupted in panic. Diamond Jozu and others tried to charge forward to intervene.
"Dad's body can no longer keep up with his spirit!"
Marco's pupils contracted, his heart filled with grief, powerlessness, and dread.
"Not even the strongest man in the world can defeat time."
That thought stabbed deeper than any blade.
As the First Division Commander, a ship's doctor, and the Emperor's right hand—Marco knew better than anyone how fragile Whitebeard truly was.
Against an admiral-level opponent, he could still hold his own.
With the Gura Gura no Mi and his dual Haki, Whitebeard remained a titan who could overwhelm any high-level foe.
But against an emperor-level combatant—where mind, body, technique, and Devil Fruit clashed at their peaks—Whitebeard's aging frame simply couldn't keep up.
Especially when that emperor... was Ragnar.
A newly-risen deity of war under the rising sun.
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