Smoothie's laughter suddenly rang out, fueled by Fossa's words. She said disdainfully, "I've long heard that the Whitebeard Pirates were somewhat naive, but I never imagined it was true."
"What do you mean?" Fossa asked, puzzled.
Her eyes turned cold. "What do you mean by Whitebeard's legacy? Before your Whitebeard Pirates claimed these islands as your territory, they were battlegrounds for countless pirate crews. In the New World, strength is everything. Without it, you cannot protect what you wish to protect. Whitebeard is dead, and the Whitebeard Pirates are no more. That is reality. Inheriting a legacy or fortune is meaningless if you cannot seize it by strength. There are no laws here dictating a son succeeds his father or inherits the family business."
Smoothie raised her greatsword, growling, "Without strength, talk of protecting a legacy or inheritance is worthless. Pirate struggles have always been life-or-death battles. Elbaf Spear: Hakoku!"
Instantly, a cylindrical sword energy shot from her blade, pressing down on Fossa with overwhelming force.
"What?" Fossa barely reacted, bringing his flaming sword up to block. The attack, modeled after Big Mom's technique, was devastating. But he could not evade; he could only meet it head-on.
The moment sword energy met sword, Fossa felt countless tiny Ki Blades strike him, piercing his cheeks, arms, thighs, chest, and abdomen. Blood gushed as his body became riddled with holes.
"Ah ah ah ah!" Fossa roared furiously, lifting his sword and deflecting the cylindrical energy. It struck a nearby coral reef, carving a neat hole, before finally impacting the cliff face and leaving a circular scar.
"Hoo hoo hoo…" Blood trickled from the corner of Fossa's mouth. Though he had blocked the attack, he was still wounded.
"That is truly an extraordinary technique," Fossa said solemnly, wiping blood from his lips as he regarded Smoothie.
Even Smoothie was slightly surprised. She hadn't expected a Division Commander to possess such strength. His bounty, over 700 million, was two hundred million less than hers, placing him only average among Division Commanders. Yet now, it was clear his power matched the bounty.
"As expected of a Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates," she said seriously. "It will take effort to defeat you."
Meanwhile, Fish-Men watching the clash from the periphery observed the battle between the Phoenix Pirates and the Big Mom Pirates. They were powerless to intervene. Their only option was to treat the wounded, preventing unnecessary deaths. For those harboring resentment toward humans, this war was merely human infighting—they wished it would consume all of them.
Amid the chaos, Marco remained relentless. "Rankyaku, Finger Pistol…" Surrounded by Big Mom Pirates, he cut through waves of attackers with precision. Most could be dispatched in a single strike; only the officers presented minor difficulty.
Yet as the battle dragged on, Marco realized something alarming: no matter how many he defeated, more kept coming, continuously swarming him.
After cutting down another wave of Pirates, Marco scanned the battlefield. "This cannot continue. Their numbers are too great. I need to eliminate the officers first."
Izo approached him. "Marco, leave this to me. Go support Fossa and Namur. As long as we take out the Sweet Commanders, the small fry won't matter."
"Hmm, I thought the same. The small fry are endless and irritating," Marco said with a nod, turning his attention to Charlotte Cracker, currently locked in combat with Namur.
Namur, facing Cracker, held the upper hand. Cracker constantly produced biscuit soldiers, while Namur systematically destroyed them with his water-based attacks. The battle of attrition suited Namur, as Cracker feared direct confrontation.
"Damn Fishman…" Cracker cursed, realizing his strategy had been countered.
Namur held water in both palms. "Will you fight me yourself? No matter how many biscuit soldiers you create, it is useless. As a Fishman, I hold the terrain advantage. Here, I can unleash my full strength."
Cracker's expression darkened. He sneered. "I intended to defeat you with my biscuit soldiers, but now, I will have to do it myself."
"Then you're next," Marco said, eyes fixed on Cracker, before launching himself forward.
The movement did not go unnoticed. Big Mom Pirates immediately rushed to intercept him. "Where do you think you're going, Marco?"
Curiel raised his firearms, continuously firing to distract. "Don't interfere! The Sweet Commanders are over here!"
Marco ascended into the air. "I'll leave these to you," he called.
Naturally, someone tried to block him. "Don't think you can pass, Marco."
Without glancing up, Marco growled, "Get out of my way! Rankyaku: Ran…"
Streaks of vacuum slashes cleared the path, knocking back his opponents. The Big Mom Pirates panicked, unable to stop him. "Brother Cracker, beware! Marco is coming for you!"
Charlotte Cracker, focused on Namur, noticed Marco's approach. His expression stiffened. The Fishman alone was difficult to defeat—if Marco joined the fight, Cracker's chances diminished drastically.
At that moment, a blue demon appeared before Marco, raising a greatsword and slashing down. "Demon Slash…"
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