Akainu collapsed in utter defeat, lying motionless on the ground. He didn't even muster the will to seal the cleanly severed wounds where his limbs had been cleaved, nor to stop the magma from spilling from his body.
For someone who had climbed through the ranks of the Navy with pride and conviction, it was unbearable to accept that he had now suffered another humiliating loss at Squard's hands.
Last time, at least, he could blame it on being ambushed by Roya, heavily injured and off his game. But this time?
This time, he had entered battle in peak condition.
He had even worked hard to develop a new magma-shifting ability after the last loss, giving him greater flexibility and power to adapt mid-fight. In theory, his strength now was far beyond what it had been.
And yet—he had still been played like a puppet by Squard, who reduced him to a limbless husk in a single strike.
How was Akainu supposed to accept that?
Completely broken in both body and spirit, he lay in the dust, waiting quietly for death.
---
As if sensing the loss of any remaining threat, a small pink dragon head cautiously poked out from behind a pile of collapsed rubble nearby.
But a large hand immediately pressed down on the dragon's head.
A deep, gravelly voice scolded,
"Young Master, be careful! Both sides out there are monsters. If they discover your true identity…"
The pink dragon made an exaggerated, human-like pout.
"Alright, alright, I get it, sheesh."
Kin'emon furrowed his brow in helpless exasperation.
"Master Momonosuke, please revert to human form. While your dragon form is convenient, it's far too conspicuous."
Momonosuke rolled his eyes, but obediently dropped to the ground and transformed into a toddler no older than three.
With a childlike voice, he muttered,
"That Roya is seriously strong. Took out this underground base like it was nothing. If not for him, escaping would've been way harder."
"If we could get him to serve Father as a retainer… fulfilling his dream of opening the borders would probably be a walk in the park."
Kin'emon's mouth twitched slightly. He wanted to respond—but in the end, said nothing. Quietly, he pressed himself to the window to observe the battlefield.
He didn't notice the faint pink glow that drifted from Momonosuke's fingertip, slipping silently through a crack and floating outside.
---
Back on the field, the only two still fighting were Jinbe and Zephyr.
Zephyr was going all-out.
He knew full well that the combat stimulant he had taken only had less than five minutes of effectiveness left.
If he couldn't take Jinbe down within that window, then all the promises he'd made with Commander Kong would collapse.
And with the Navy's elite now thoroughly defeated, only he and Kong remained capable of fighting.
A growing sense of dread crept into Zephyr's heart—perhaps his dream of forming a special ops fleet to hunt pirates and avenge his family… had come to an end.
The memory of his wife and child's brutal deaths at the hands of pirates replayed in his mind again and again, each time dyeing his vision red.
"You pirates… you goddamn filthy pirates!"
Zephyr panted heavily. His strength and the drug's power were nearly drained.
But in the depths of that burning hatred, a new surge of power awakened.
His right arm—already wrapped in Armament Haki to the elbow—flared to life, the dark aura now spreading across his shoulder and half his chest.
Even the long-standing damage to his arm was gone.
His strength had miraculously returned to its peak.
With a roar, he threw a punch!
The air before his fist compressed violently, forming a vortex of pulling force around his knuckles—aimed straight at Jinbe's chest.
Jinbe's expression grew grim.
He could feel the terrifying strength behind this punch.
The gravitational pull was already affecting his movement.
In that brief moment of hesitation, he knew it was already too late to dodge.
But countering head-on was just as dangerous. His own force would be absorbed by the vortex, then redirected back at him with even greater force.
It would be like teaming up with Zephyr to beat himself up.
First Doflamingo, now Zephyr…
Jinbe couldn't help but lament his own luck today—one opponent after another whose power perfectly countered his.
But then, he looked over at Roya's silhouette—and a surge of confidence and calm rose within him.
"Thanks for being my stepping stones."
"I've learned your tricks too."
Fish-Man Karate, Karakusagawara Seiken
Jinbe threw a punch—channeling all his energy into the tip of his fist.
But unlike Zephyr, who greedily tried to draw in and devour everything with his vortex, Jinbe's strike was pure—concentrated only to a single point of focused power.
The two punches collided.
The vortex tried to absorb Jinbe's punch—but was instantly overwhelmed.
BOOM!
The vortex exploded violently.
And in that moment—Jinbe's lips curled into a smirk.
He struck again.
Fish-Man Karate, Karakusagawara Seiken!
The energy from his previous attack erupted in full—tearing through the explosion, unleashing a shockwave that devastated the battlefield.
A hurricane-force blast ripped through the field, distorting the air and turning buildings within a hundred meters into dust, blown away like paper.
When the wind finally died down, everyone stared in awe.
The ground beneath them had been scoured flat as a mirror—gleaming smooth from the force of the blast.
Instinctively, all eyes turned toward the center of the devastation.
Jinbe stood firm, arm outstretched in his punching stance.
Zephyr, in contrast, trembled uncontrollably.
Finally, blood gushed from his mouth, and he collapsed.
He could no longer stand, yet his eyes still burned with fierce determination.
Using only his hands, he began crawling toward the edge of the island.
Jinbe, knowing the tragedy of Zephyr's family, let out a quiet sigh.
He lowered his fists and silently watched this once-great hero, now a pitiful man, drag himself away.
---
Suddenly, a strange silence fell over the battlefield.
Akainu had been blasted away—his condition unknown.
Green Bull was still a pile of pulp, nowhere near recovered.
Kizaru and Aokiji were shamelessly lying on the ground, continuing to fake their injuries.
Fujitora, completely unscathed thanks to his defensive stance, had turned his back to the field, head buried between his knees, lost in thought.
Not a single soul made a sound.