Dark clouds blanketed the sky.
An invisible storm was gathering, its pressure building, preparing to sweep across the sea with violent force.
As time passed, the atmosphere throughout the New World became increasingly tense and oppressive.
Pirates from all corners of the ocean converged near the Whitebeard Pirates' last known stronghold—drawn either by ambition, curiosity, or the hope of seizing opportunity in the chaos.
Some came to spectate, others to scavenge.
From above, the scene resembled a spiraling storm of ships, all sailing from different directions, yet heading toward a single destination.
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Urals Island—a deserted, barren land and the battlefield chosen for the inevitable clash between the Whitebeard Pirates and the Blackbeard Pirates.
A river cut through the island, dividing it from east to west.
To the north of the river, the Whitebeard Pirates had assembled. Led by Marco, every division commander and allied fleet captain stood ready. All were present. All were silent.
Each clutched their weapon tightly, fury simmering just beneath the surface.
They had come with one purpose: to fight Blackbeard and settle all scores, even if it meant dying on this island.
The air burned with tension before a single blow had even been exchanged. Gunpowder hung thick in the air, and an oppressive aura pressed down over the entire island.
It felt as if an ancient beast had opened its maw, preparing to devour everything in sight.
Pirate ships clustered in the surrounding waters, lying in wait.
Even Marine warships had arrived, maintaining a close watch on all movements in secret.
The World Government had deployed spies, and even the underworld was watching with bated breath.
And yet, one group had not appeared.
The Blackbeard Pirates.
"Where the hell is Blackbeard? What's he waiting for?"
"Probably scheming. That bastard's a snake. He stabbed Whitebeard in the back, remember?"
"Heh, maybe it'll end in mutual destruction... Then I'll swoop in and claim Whitebeard's territory for myself, hahaha!"
Many pirates were losing patience. Time passed, and Blackbeard still hadn't shown. The longer he delayed, the more anxious the onlookers became.
Finally, near sunset, something appeared on the horizon.
A broken, ragged vessel drifted into view.
To call it a pirate ship would be generous—it was more like a makeshift raft, cobbled together from logs and tattered cloth, barely floating. A tattered Jolly Roger flapped weakly at its mast.
Even the most desperate of pirates wouldn't be caught sailing on something so pathetic.
It was shameful.
"Zehahahahaha!"
Blackbeard's laughter rang out, echoing across the sea.
Under the wary gaze of countless eyes, his crew made landfall, stepping ashore directly opposite the Whitebeard Pirates.
Above, the thick, swirling clouds grew darker, almost as if the sky itself was watching.
"Marco..."
"Blackbeard..."
The moment their eyes met across the river, the tension erupted like a spark in a powder keg.
Marco's arms morphed into glowing, blue phoenix wings as killing intent poured from his body.
Beside him, Diamond Joz stood in full gleaming armor, his crimson eyes burning with hatred.
Vista gripped his twin swords tightly, his sword intent blazing into the sky.
The captains gathered, overflowing with power and rage, all eyes locked on Blackbeard, ready to strike at any moment.
"Zehahahaha..."
Blackbeard stood amidst the hostility, laughing maniacally as a swirling black mist rose around him—dense, evil, suffocating. He looked like a demon king standing at the gates of hell.
The time for hiding was over.
At his side stood his infamous crew: Shiryu of the Rain, Avalo Pizarro, Catarina Devon, Jesus Burgess, and others. Each one released their aura in kind, challenging the Whitebeard Pirates head-on.
The standoff reached its breaking point.
A single move could spark a war that would shake the world.
"Zehahaha! Marco, Joz, Vista... join me!"
"Whitebeard's era is over! We are the ones who will shape the new age. Come with me and flip this world upside down!"
Rumble...
Thunder rolled ominously overhead as if answering Blackbeard's wild ambition.
No one expected such words. Right as the war was about to begin, Blackbeard was trying to recruit them.
Was it arrogance... or absolute confidence?
The response was instant.
The Whitebeard Pirates stared at him with unfiltered rage and disgust.
"Enough nonsense. This ends here!"
"Traitor! You're not even worthy of speaking his name!"
"Kill him! For Pops, for Ace, Thatch, and Little Oars Jr.!"
With a roar of fury, the Whitebeard Pirates launched their assault.
Gunfire and cannon blasts erupted from their side, raining down on Blackbeard and his crew.
"Zehahaha! Then let's go to war!"
A thick wave of darkness exploded outward from Blackbeard's body.
The bullets and shells were consumed the moment they touched the dark mist—dissolving as if dropped into acid.
At that instant, the commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates charged across the river.
Marco flew straight toward Blackbeard. Vista clashed with Shiryu. Joz engaged Avalo Pizarro. The rest of the commanders found their targets as the battlefield erupted into chaos.
And so, the final battle began.
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