The arrival of Aokiji and Fujitora greatly eased the crushing weight pressing on Sengoku's heart.
His thoughts churned rapidly:
"Just as Lord Roya predicted—there must be a high-ranking traitor within Marine Headquarters!"
"Otherwise, the deployment of these biological weapons would never have been so precise, so deliberately targeted!"
"The true strength of the Marines right now lies in these tens of thousands of elite officers. Our top-tier combat power is severely lacking!"
"That traitor deliberately deployed the twelve most powerful behemoths among the alien biological weapons against the Marines' defensive line, ensuring that the immense strength of our hundred-thousand elites could never be properly brought to bear!"
"Meanwhile, without even looking, I can already imagine what the pirates' and revolutionaries' defensive line must be facing—swarms upon swarms of mid- and low-tier biological weapons, forcing their top fighters to spread thin, whittling down their numbers advantage!"
"It all comes down to whether Aokiji and Fujitora can break this deadlock—this wall we cannot pierce!"
Sengoku's gaze rose to the sky, where enormous ice spears and meteors plummeted from the heavens, creating an infernal tableau of ice and fire, pressure and destruction. Yet his heart was far from optimistic.
This Fujitora—he had only heard of him in passing, and didn't know the man well. But as for the Gravity Fruit's powers, Sengoku could easily imagine the few ways it could be applied.
Aokiji's methods of attack and defense, however, were something he understood very clearly.
Taken together, the efficiency of their abilities in converting Devil Fruit power into physical damage was indeed higher than Kizaru's—but only slightly so.
"If even these two still can't pierce the beasts' defenses… then the Marine battle line is doomed…"
The bitterness in Sengoku's chest deepened, for he had already realized the truth: this time, the hundred-thousand elite officers he had painstakingly cultivated might all be lost.
"All we can hope for now is to buy enough time—hold on until Lord Roya arrives!"
As his thoughts turned, the barrage finally struck.
The ice spears—three meters long, as thick as a man's arms could encircle—were laughably tiny when compared to the kilometer-long monsters. Yet these spears rained down in a precise line along one beast's spine, like a row of flying needles aimed at a single vital target.
Aokiji's choice of target was deliberate.
This particular behemoth was the type that could directly absorb Devil Fruit energy into its flesh.
The formation of ice spears set the trap—and at the same time, the massive meteors Fujitora had summoned hurtled downward!
In that instant, Sengoku understood their joint strategy.
They would use the ice spears as decoys, forcing the monster to trigger its absorption defense—then strike immediately after with the meteors, delivering raw physical destruction when the defense could not respond in time!
"To think—this is their first time fighting side by side, and they're already this coordinated! Perhaps… there's still a chance!"
It all happened in a blink.
The ice spears drove down, striking the monster's hide with a series of dull, muffled thuds.
The spears began to melt before the naked eye, their Devil Fruit energy draining away into viscous black slime that seeped into the creature's skin.
And in that crucial moment, the meteor storm descended—like titanic hammers smashing nails deep into the beast's spine.
Fujitora even accelerated the meteors in their final plunge—faster, heavier, deadlier!
An instant later, the monster's spine erupted with chained detonations, its back convulsing under the ferocious bombardment.
Sengoku's eyes locked on the lowest spear, the "nail" anchoring the rest.
And then—it worked!
Under the crushing impact of the meteors, the beast's hide could not transform its defense in time. The half-melted ice spear was driven in like a steel spike, bursting through flesh and vanishing deep inside!
The meteors slammed directly into the opening, their kinetic energy and burning flames exploding outward in full.
Even a kilometer-long body could not endure.
The monster's spine bent like a bowstring drawn to breaking, each vertebra snapping with grotesque cracks as if shattered by the weight of the sky itself.
The colossal creature was hurled violently upward, then slammed back down, skidding nearly a kilometer across the frozen sea.
A trail of black blood marked its path, stretching like a river of death.
For the first time, the Marines had done it—Aokiji and Fujitora had grievously wounded a behemoth, striking a triumphant opening blow!
The elite Marines roared in renewed spirit, charging the fallen beast.
Now was the time to finish it—to kill while it was weakened!
They swarmed the monster's spine, hacking deeper into the rupture with steel blades, enlarging the wound and tearing at the fractured vertebrae, desperate to carve the beast apart.
"Everyone! Fall back to the Pluton!"
At last, Lord Roya had crossed the Red Line and arrived at the Marine front.
The moment he entered the battlefield, he saw through the trap—the seemingly wounded behemoth's insidious snare.
But fate was cruel. The Marines had already rushed into the jaws of death, and it was far too late to save them. All that remained was their own luck.
Roya's warning, carried on his spiritual will, echoed directly within the minds of every Marine present—instantaneous, ignoring all distance.
Yet the soldiers, bound by years of ingrained discipline, hesitated. Their chain of command had never been overridden like this. For a split second, they froze.
That single heartbeat sealed their fate.
The gaping wound along the beast's spine suddenly warped into a horrific death trap.
Thick, fleshy tendrils shot out from the torn flesh, snaring each Marine in an instant.
From within the shattered spine, razor-sharp bone spikes erupted, weaving into cages that pierced and trapped every soldier, leaving none untouched.
Blood poured freely from their wounds, feeding the tendrils as they twisted and transformed into ghastly mouths.
They sucked the men dry, draining their lifeblood until only skin-wrapped skeletons remained.
Then the bone cages clenched.
Crack!
Sengoku's tears flowed uncontrollably—his heart shattering on the spot.
With a single movement, over ten thousand elite officers had perished.
"These monsters… they're only the lowest-tier cannon fodder of the alien Harvesters. How can we ever hope to win…?"
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