Ezra took a quiet moment to marvel at his own strength, then turned his gaze toward the distant warships.
Sengoku was still shouting orders, urging the fleet to sail away from the devastated waters as fast as possible.
Ezra raised a brow and stepped through the air, landing directly on Sengoku's ship.
"Ezra!"
Hina rushed forward and threw her arms around him.
"I'm fine," Ezra said gently, patting her hair to calm her.
Everyone else looked at him with open awe.
They had never witnessed power on this level before.
Even the other admirals at their peak could destroy an island at most.
But Ezra had erased Marineford itself, along with the surrounding sea.
That was something no one had ever seen.
"Ezra… your strength is a little too ridiculous, don't you think?" Sengoku said, swallowing hard.
The others nodded rapidly.
Ezra lifted a brow.
"Really? I still feel like I have a long way to go."
The crew fell silent.
From Ezra's perspective, it was true.
If the old Captain Commander had personally acted, he might not have needed full release at all. Even the initial release could likely have destroyed Marineford.
Still, Ezra believed that in the near future he would catch up to that level.
Maybe even surpass it.
After a brief pause, Ezra looked at Sengoku.
"Uncle Sengoku, Whitebeard is gone."
He handed over Murakumogiri.
Sengoku nodded. He had already understood the outcome.
After an attack like that, survival was impossible.
If Whitebeard had lived, he would have been something beyond human.
Sengoku looked at the massive blade and sighed.
"Whitebeard… another relic of the old era gone."
He shook his head. There was no time to dwell on the past.
"We head to the New World base immediately. We regroup there. The families from Marineford must be settled as well."
"Yes, Fleet Admiral!"
Before the battle, all civilians on Marineford had already been evacuated to G-1.
Now the fleet's task was to reach that base safely.
As for the enormous chasm behind them, Sengoku gave it one glance and shook his head.
The sea would probably swallow it eventually.
Probably.
He ordered the fleet toward G-1.
"Sengoku, we still haven't announced the result of the war to the world," Vice Admiral Tsuru reminded him.
Sengoku froze. He had almost forgotten.
"Are there any broadcast Den Den Mushi left?"
Everyone shook their heads. They had all been destroyed.
Just then, a voice called down from the sky.
"Fleet Admiral Sengoku!"
They looked up.
It was Morgans, flapping overhead.
He was visibly thrilled.
Though he had never shown himself during the battle, he had been circling high above the battlefield the entire time.
And he had recorded everything.
"Fleet Admiral! I have a recording Den Den Mushi!"
Sengoku nodded in relief.
"Can it still broadcast?"
Morgans fiddled with it and grinned.
"Of course! Admiral Scorched Flame's heroic figure was captured perfectly."
Sengoku finally relaxed.
"Good. Broadcast it to the whole world."
"Tell them that even the mightiest pirates face only two endings. Surrender or death."
Ezra nodded in agreement.
While Morgans hurried to set up the transmission, Garp walked over to Ezra.
"Ezra, can we talk?"
Ezra tilted his head and followed him aside.
"What's up, Uncle Garp?"
Seeing the aging hero, Ezra felt a flicker of awkwardness. After all, he had just killed one of Garp's grandsons.
But Garp did not seem angry.
He patted Ezra's shoulder.
"Don't feel sorry for me. You did what any marine would do. That was Ace's fate."
Garp sighed and sat down at the bow of the ship.
Ezra sat beside him. The two men quietly watched the sea for a while.
When Garp's expression had steadied, Ezra asked softly,
"What did you want to talk about?"
Garp finally spoke.
"Sengoku told me there is no real opposition to the next Fleet Admiral."
Ezra nodded.
"He told me too."
Garp continued.
"Good. Then I just have one request. Let me retire, Ezra."
Ezra fell silent, thinking.
Before he could answer, Morgans finished setting up the broadcast.
All across the world, people waited anxiously for news of the war.
From the moment the battle began, Sengoku had ordered all live feeds cut.
The uncertainty had left both civilians and pirates on edge.
Civilians prayed for the Navy's victory.
Pirates hoped Whitebeard would crush them.
Then, screens around the world flickered to life.
"It's on!"
"There's video!"
"Who won? The Navy or the pirates?!"
"The Navy has to win!"
"Whitebeard Pirates are unbeatable!"
Arguments broke out everywhere.
Then the footage began to play.
It showed the Whitebeard Pirates at the height of their charge.
Pirates watching around the world cheered wildly.
"Go, Whitebeard Pirates!"
"Whitebeard must have won!"
"If he didn't win, I'll shave my head upside down!"
Civilians, on the other hand, felt despair creeping in.
Even through the screen, the strength of the Whitebeard Pirates was overwhelming.
The battle unfolded in brutal clashes between pirates and marines.
Then came the moment Ace was freed.
Pirates everywhere erupted in celebration.
"I knew it! Whitebeard Pirates for the win!"
"Ten year fan here, I never doubted them!"
Just then, civilians began gasping in shock.
The pirates paused and looked back at the screens.
A figure slowly walked into view.
That man.
Ezra D. Vale.
Admiral Scorched Flame.