"Hahahahaha! Akainu, the glorified mutt of the Marines! Even your epithet calls you a dog. Tell me—don't you have enough self-respect left to feel insulted by that?" Noir jeered as he emerged from the rubble, dusting off his body as though the admiral's attack hadn't fazed him at all. His mocking grin only deepened as Akainu's glare burned hotter than his magma.
"I don't need to hear that from scum like you," Akainu spat, his voice dripping with contempt.
"Oh? I heard you burned down an entire town of civilians just to kill a single pirate. Is that the justice you preach about?" Noir asked, his tone sharpened with derision.
"I would not hesitate to make sacrifices for justice," Akainu growled, his voice booming across the battlefield. "Innocents may die, but it is necessary if it means purging filth like you from this sea."
Noir burst into laughter. "A good dog's answer! Do you know any tricks? Roll over? Sit? Sit, boy!" He clapped mockingly, treating the admiral as though he were a mere pet.
Akainu's fury finally boiled over. Magma erupted from every pore of his body, the ground sizzling beneath his feet as he leapt toward Noir with a colossal fist of molten destruction aimed straight at his head. Noir's eyes lit up with exhilaration. At the last moment, he coated his arms with advanced Armament Haki and met Akainu's punch head-on.
The collision birthed a deafening explosion of fire, smoke, and pressure. The shockwave tore through the ice and scattered both Marines and pirates alike, forcing them to retreat from the sheer intensity. None dared approach the clash—everyone knew Akainu wielded one of the most destructive Devil Fruits in existence, and even brushing against the fight meant certain death.
While Noir relished the battle, elsewhere, the war raged on.
Luffy, determined and desperate, broke through Marine lines as he charged toward the execution platform. Jimbei and the Whitebeard pirates fought at his side, the battlefield trembling under the sheer force of their advance. Whitebeard himself remained motionless, his eyes sharp as they tracked Noir's clash. The old man's instincts told him one thing clearly: Noir was still holding back. For all his raw power, the young monster had yet to unleash the full extent of his abilities—or his Devil Fruit.
On another front, Bullet was locked in a grueling struggle with Aokiji. Every time Bullet tried to assimilate weapons or debris into his body, the admiral froze them solid, leaving him no advantage. Snarling, Bullet abandoned absorption entirely, relying solely on his fists and Haki. To his delight, Kuzan matched him strike for strike, their clash a thunderous symphony of ice and brute force. Bullet laughed with every punch—this was the kind of fight he lived for.
Meanwhile, Shiryu, Tanya, and Hantengu carved a bloody path through the Marine ranks. Hantengu unleashed his five emotion-based clones, each wielding different abilities that turned the battlefield into chaos. Watching this, Shiryu felt a flicker of envy at Hantengu's versatility, silently resolving to ask Noir for help in hunting down a powerful Devil Fruit of his own. Tanya, ever ruthless, reveled in the slaughter, her laughter mixing with the screams of soldiers.
Further away, the Revolutionaries clashed with one of their most tragic enemies: Bartholomew Kuma. Their strikes were hesitant, desperate, not because of Kuma's strength—but because he was their comrade, now nothing more than a weapon of the World Government. Ivankov and Inazuma shouted to him, pleading for even a flicker of recognition, but their words fell on deaf ears. Watching from nearby, Doflamingo sneered, his strings twitching lazily as he mocked their efforts.
"Fufufu… how pathetic. I heard that he willingly participated in the World Government Experiment that would make him a living weapon. Now, he doesn't even have his own memory."
The war of Marineford raged on, every corner erupting in battles that shook the very foundations of the sea. And in the eye of the storm, Noir grinned as he traded blows with the embodiment of absolute justice itself.
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Back in the heart of the battlefield, Noir and Akainu clashed once more. Noir spun sharply, unleashing a hook kick infused with Haki, his heel smashing against the admiral's head and forcing him backward. Without pause, Noir followed up with a front kick aimed straight at Akainu's abdomen.
But the magma man was ready. Akainu's torso melted into molten fire, letting Noir's leg pass through harmlessly—then, in a split-second trap, the admiral hardened his body around Noir's foot, locking him in place.
"Got you," Akainu growled, his fist erupting with molten fury.
A magma-coated punch slammed into Noir's torso, detonating with the fury of a volcanic eruption. The explosion engulfed the battlefield, fire and ash scattering in every direction as the ground itself cracked under the force. Marines and pirates alike were thrown back by the shockwave.
When the smoke cleared, Akainu stood tall, his lips curling into a smug sneer. He had poured his full strength into that blow—no one should have survived it. But then… the figure of Noir emerged from the haze. His clothes were torn, blood trickled down from a gash on his head—but his grin remained wide, unbroken, and disturbingly excited.
"Wow… that hurt, you mutt," Noir said, his voice brimming with exhilaration. His blood boiled with battlelust, his eyes shining with anticipation.
Then his grin widened further. "Well, I guess it's time I use my Devil Fruit, too."
Akainu's eyes narrowed in shock. Throughout their fight, Noir had fought purely with his body and Haki—his monstrous strength enough to rival an admiral. The fact that he still had a Devil Fruit ability in reserve made Akainu's stomach twist.
Noir raised his fist, and a blinding white sphere condensed in his palm. The air vibrated violently as he leapt forward, colliding with Akainu midair. Their fists met—magma against quake. The impact detonated instantly. Akainu's magma fist shattered, dispersing into molten fragments as the concentrated quake-force exploded outward with devastating power.
Noir pressed his advantage, throwing another punch. This time, he didn't strike Akainu directly—instead, he released the quake into the air itself.
"GURASH!!!" Noir roared.
The very world trembled. A deafening explosion ripped through Marineford, the battlefield convulsing as the ground splintered apart beneath everyone's feet. Towers crumbled, platforms cracked, and soldiers screamed as the island itself groaned under the pressure.
Those unfamiliar with Noir's Devil Fruit froze in horror, their eyes instinctively snapping toward Whitebeard. Yet the old emperor hadn't moved an inch. Their realization struck like ice: this wasn't Whitebeard's power shaking Marineford. This was Noir.
At the top of the execution platform, Sengoku and Garp stood side by side, their eyes locked on the battlefield below. Noir's clash with Akainu had already shaken Marineford to its core, but what made both veterans tense was the unmistakable power radiating from Noir's fists. The ground itself quaked, the air distorted—and it wasn't Whitebeard who had caused it.
Sengoku's expression hardened as he recognized the truth. "That brat also has a troublesome power with him, why can't these brats just be marines instead of being pirates?"
Beside him, Garp clenched his fists. He said nothing at first, but his silence carried more weight than words. Down below, Ace's eyes widened in disbelief, staring at Noir as if searching for answers. He had never seen this man before, and yet here he was wielding the same power as Whitebeard—the very man Ace called "father." Confusion and unease churned in Ace's chest, but the execution platform gave him no chance to voice it.
Finally, Garp exhaled sharply, his body trembling—not from fear, but from the storm of emotions raging inside him. He rose from his seat.
"What are you doing, Garp?" Sengoku asked, his tone sharp. His eyes flicked toward his oldest friend, reading the shift in his posture, the weight in his aura.
"I'll release my anger," Garp said, his voice low but carrying the force of a cannon. His expression was carved from stone, no trace of his usual levity remaining.
Sengoku fell silent, his jaw tightening. He understood immediately. This wasn't just about Noir's strength, or the Marines' duty. Garp was a man torn between his family and the justice he had sworn to uphold, between his bond to Ace and Luffy, and the loyalty he owed to the Marines.
Sengoku's hands tightened around the edge of the platform. He didn't try to stop Garp, nor did he offer words of comfort. He knew too well that Garp was standing at the crossroads of his own conviction.