After the cataclysmic shockwave, no one knew how many casualties the Navy had suffered. The soldiers who had survived were left shaken to the core by that single strike.
Was "Whitebeard" even still human? No one could answer with certainty.
And yet, for the Marines, there was one consolation: this terrifying man was finally dead.
They no longer had to fear another one of Whitebeard's devastating blows.
On the frozen battlefield,
Davy Jones tilted his head back to look at Newgate's fallen figure and muttered:
"So this is what they call Conqueror's Coating? Focusing the waves of Haosuko Haki, then unleashing them upon a target…"
He turned to look across the ruins: what remained of Marineford's headquarters building, the leveled city blocks, and the shattered Navy harbor.
"The fusion of Conqueror's Haki with a Devil Fruit's power… only then could such destructive force be born. So this is the way the Emperors of the Sea fight— battles that can change the very heavens themselves."
What mattered was not the scale of the attack's reach, but the focused destructive power.
As Jones pondered this, his keen ears picked up the piercing wails of grief.
He turned.
The remnants of the Whitebeard Pirates had gathered atop the massive ice floe.
The escaped prisoners followed after— members of the Kamabakka Kingdom, the Revolutionary Army, and even scattered convicts.
Marco, Ace, Jozu, Vista, and the other captains and commanders all prostrated themselves before Newgate's standing body.
Men, women, even fishmen— all of them sobbed openly, with no thought for appearances. It was a testament to Whitebeard's towering presence.
But from this day forward, Whitebeard belonged to the past.
Their mourning continued for some time— until the Navy warships' cannon fire shattered the moment.
Whitebeard's strike had terrified the Marines, but his death ignited their spirits.
With Whitebeard gone, were not the rest mere rabble?
The Navy's battleships surged in through the crescent-shaped bay mouth, surrounding the ice floe, unleashing a saturation barrage.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Their targets: the pirates, the escaped convicts, the captured warships, and even the very ice beneath their feet.
The war was far from over.
Admiral Akainu had already broken faith first, despite the severe punishment he had suffered for it.
Fleet Admiral Sengoku seized the chance— he ordered the battleships to fire, then called for Sakazuki and Kuzan to be rescued.
His eyes gleamed sharply as he gazed upon those figures on the sea.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to annihilate the Whitebeard Pirates in one fell swoop.
On the ice:
Boom! One of the warships that Marco and Jozu had only just managed to capture was torn apart by cannon fire, overturning and slowly sinking beneath the waves.
"Damn it," Marco realized grimly. He shouted, voice cracking with urgency:
"Everyone pull yourselves together! We need another ship! We're taking Pops with us!"
Yes— we'll take Pops with us!
The pirates, rallied, wiped away their tears and stood again.
In quick order, they divided into two groups: one to guard Newgate's body, the other to try and seize another warship.
But the Marine commanders weren't fools. Orders rang out immediately— the ships turned away from the ice, keeping their distance, and continued to bombard it until the floe collapsed entirely.
Once the pirates lost their footing, if they still tried to protect Whitebeard's corpse, they would be forced into the sea— where their disadvantage would be fatal.
Amid the endless explosions, Sabo stood with the unconscious Luffy in his arms, back to back with Ivankov.
One crisis after another surged over them like waves, leaving even the Revolutionary Army's Chief of Staff helpless.
Then he noticed Davy Jones.
That strange man stood calmly not far away, utterly composed.
Beside him, "Clown" Buggy flailed his limbs wildly, seemingly pitching some kind of idea.
Why are they so calm?
We're completely surrounded. All 47 ships of the Whitebeard Pirates have been sunk. Not a single vessel remains. And even if there were— how could we ever break through this cannonade?
So why are those two still so composed?
Sabo's instincts told him: Davy Jones had a plan.
He tugged on Ivankov's sleeve, signaling for patience.
"Watch carefully, Iva. If there's a turn of fate ahead… it'll come from Davy Jones."
Ivankov's huge face turned toward Sabo, then toward Jones. He nodded knowingly.
The Navy had deployed fifty battleships for this war.
Over half had already been destroyed— but more than twenty still remained, filled with vice admirals, rear admirals, commodores, and captains.
The bombardment force striking at the ice was greater in scale and firepower than a Buster Call.
Cannon fire shrank the ice floe bit by bit, leaving the Whitebeard Pirates stranded on an ever-shrinking island.
If not for the captains intercepting incoming shells before they could land in the center, the ice would already have shattered completely.
The tightening noose left everyone gasping for breath.
"Marco! What do we do?!" Ace shouted, loosing a fiery fist that swallowed an incoming cannonball.
The blond, long-faced First Division Commander's expression was grim.
"We tried to seize another ship just now— but we underestimated the Navy's resolve. They sank it immediately."
Even Marco hadn't expected them to act so decisively.
"Then what, are we completely out of options?"
"I'm still thinking. Don't worry— I'll find a way to take Pops with us!"
If the Whitebeard Pirates only wanted to flee, they could still manage it.
But they all had resolved to bring Newgate's body with them, even at the cost of their lives.
That was their collective will— unshakable.
As Marco and Ace scrambled for solutions, a bubbling sound rose from beneath the sea.
What now?!
The next moment, a jet-black pirate ship cloaked in eerie green burst from the waves.
The rushing water was sweet music to their ears. The battered hull was a glorious sight.
"It's Davy Jones's ship!" Marco instantly recognized the vessel that had appeared earlier in the battle. "I was wondering why it vanished— thought it might've sunk already…"
"It's been under the sea!" Ace exclaimed, thrilled. "It's been hiding underwater this whole time! This ship's creepy as hell— but it's damn well come at the right moment!"
The Terror Ghost raised its monstrous jolly roger, tentacles writhing as though alive.
It cut a sharp path around the ice. The crew of the Davy Jones Pirates waved from the deck, calling to their captain.
Without hesitation, Jones grabbed Buggy by the collar, and in a blur of movement, both appeared atop the railing.
He released Buggy, landing easily on deck.
Buggy, suddenly without support, flailed wildly at the edge, nearly toppling into the sea.
Thankfully, Kuro caught his arm and hauled him back.
"Thought I was done for… thank god," Buggy panted, clutching his chest.
Kuro adjusted his glasses with one palm, walking toward Jones. "With the Seal of Contract, what's there to fear?"
"Oh… right." Buggy remembered— thanks to the seal, even Devil Fruit users among their crew could no longer be drowned. He chased after Kuro. "So you guys have been underwater this whole time?"
"Not the whole time. After the ice shattered, we returned one by one to the Terror Ghost," Kuro explained. "The captain's aim was only to help you rescue Ace. He never intended to fight the Navy to the death."
Even the Shichibukai knew better than to throw themselves against Marine Headquarters— aside from the eccentric Kuma, the other three had spent the whole war skirting its edges.
Buggy scratched his red nose, muttering: "Still think the captain wanted more than just to help me… he wanted another shot at Aokiji…"
"…Perhaps."
"But man, the captain's just getting scarier. Even Aokiji isn't his match anymore!" Buggy declared proudly, hands on his hips.
By the time they reached Davy Jones's side, both had fallen silent.
Jones swept his gaze across the deck, noting all his crew accounted for.
"Load the cannons. Clear those battleships from our path."
"Aye!" the crew roared, scattering to their posts. Buggy in particular was ecstatic— cannon fire was his specialty.
Jones turned then, his eyes fixing on the distant giant of a man.
If at first he had come for renown, for another clash with Aokiji, and to fulfill Buggy's request— now, in his heart, there was also respect for the old man's earth-shaking Conqueror's Coating.
Whoosh—
The Terror Ghost surged forward, cutting the waves like a blade.
A battleship had no time to react before its hull was pierced by the ship's razor prow, torn apart by its ravenous fangs.
Crunch! Crunch!
Like a sea beast, the Terror Ghost ripped its prey to pieces, devouring the warship whole.
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