As Ezra's voice fell, every flame along Ryujin Jakka's blade drew inward and vanished.
The suffocating heat around him disappeared in an instant, as if everything had returned to the moment before the blade's release.
Yet anyone facing him could feel it.
The power contained within him now was beyond description.
Fear filled Whitebeard's eyes.
In all his years at sea, he had never felt terror like this.
Not even from the former ruler of the seas, Rocks.
The thought flashed through his mind and his body stiffened.
He looked at Ezra again, more closely this time.
That familiar feeling…
"Ezra D… D…"
Whitebeard's expression shifted as realization struck.
He burst into loud laughter.
"So that is it! No wonder!"
His eyes locked onto Ezra with a strange clarity.
"Worth it. My life has been worth it."
Something inside him had settled. He looked at Ezra with open acceptance.
"Scorched Flame, come! Let us finish this in a final battle!"
He stepped forward and charged.
Ezra watched him calmly. He saw the will to die in Whitebeard's eyes.
With a casual motion, he swung Ryujin Jakka.
Whitebeard suddenly paused.
A trace of heat had passed by him just now.
He turned sharply.
Behind him, there were no pirates left.
That single, effortless swing had erased the remaining twenty thousand pirates completely.
The heat had been so extreme that no one had time to react. No one had time to feel pain.
They had simply vanished into drifting ash.
Whitebeard could only see gray fragments floating in the air.
He reached out and caught a handful of ash.
Those had been his sons.
"Ezra D. Vale!"
Even knowing how this would end, Whitebeard still roared in fury.
His rage poured into the power of the Tremor Tremor Fruit.
In an instant, the sky, the land, and the sea all began to quake.
The heavens split. The shattered remains of Marineford broke apart further. The calm ocean rose again into towering tsunamis.
Far away, Sengoku and the others stared.
"Whitebeard is using his full power!"
"This is the end!"
Ezra looked at the oncoming natural disaster with a calm expression.
Inside, however, he was immersed in the overwhelming sensation of Zanka no Tachi.
He tightened his grip on Ryujin Jakka.
One thought filled his mind.
This feels incredible.
Even though he was suppressing its output, he could clearly sense the difference. The blade carried a heat of fifteen million degrees.
That was why he had insisted on waiting for Sengoku and the others to evacuate.
One careless moment and they might have been vaporized.
Not burned. Vaporized.
If Zanka no Tachi were used for too long, everything nearby would gradually evaporate. People, buildings, even the sea itself would return to nothing.
No wonder the old Captain Commander had been so terrifying.
Just mastering this release alone would take years of training.
In that moment, Ezra understood something clearly.
Flashy abilities meant nothing without the discipline to wield them.
Every power had to be earned through understanding and relentless effort.
Without the physical strength, the control, and the mindset to match it, even the greatest power would be meaningless.
Ezra exhaled slowly and raised his blade, pointing it at Whitebeard.
"Edward Newgate. Out of respect for the man once known as the strongest in the world, the next strike will be the strongest technique I can currently use."
Whitebeard stared at him.
"Currently? You can go even further?"
To him, Ezra already looked like a monster beyond reason.
"Then let me test it!"
Whitebeard roared, pushing his quake power even further.
The disaster grew larger, more violent. Even ships miles away felt the tremors.
"His power increased again?!"
"Ezra must be pushing him harder than anyone ever has."
Sengoku nodded grimly.
"That pressure must be beyond anything he has ever faced. But how will Ezra stop this…"
On the distant submarine, Ivankov and the others watched in horror.
"With power like that, even the Scorched Flame Admiral cannot block it… right?"
At that moment, Ezra moved.
He slowly raised the ancient blade and gave a light swing forward.
Yes, light. As if that alone would be enough.
He even muttered to himself,
"This should not reach Uncle Sengoku and the others… hopefully."
With that small concern in mind, the blade fell.
In an instant, the disaster stopped.
"Stopped!"
"How did he do that?!"
"What the "
Every voice broke into stunned curses.
Because the unstoppable catastrophe vanished without a trace.
Not even dust remained.
And not just the disaster.
Marineford itself.
Even the nearby sea.
All of it was erased in a single instant.
A massive chasm stretched all the way to the fleet where Sengoku and the others were stationed.
"What is that?!"
"Is this really Ezra's power?!"
"Can a human even do this?!"
Before they could recover, seawater came crashing back from all directions.
The ocean rushed to fill the enormous void.
Warships were dragged toward the chasm by violent currents.
Sengoku reacted instantly and shouted,
"Move the ships! Full speed! Get away from here!"
The fleet scrambled into motion, engines roaring as they fled at maximum speed.
Ivankov and the others had already retreated into their submarine, but the wild ocean currents tossed it around like a toy ball. The people inside were nearly unconscious from the violent shaking.
At the center of the chasm, Ezra stood in midair.
Ryujin Jakka was already sealed at his waist.
In his hand, he held Murakumogiri.
The strike had been too fast. Whitebeard had vanished almost instantly.
Ezra had held back just enough to preserve the weapon.
He wiped nonexistent sweat from his forehead and let out a long breath.
"Damn… I might actually be too strong."