At the forward outpost of Base G-10, the battlefield had become a boiling crucible of chaos.
All around, swords clashed and cut through the air, diamond and gold collided with blinding force, lightning and azure flames roared in violent harmony. The nimble movements of the White Rabbit, the terrifying roars of demons, and the furious shouts of Whitebeard's division captains rose and fell in an almost rhythmic frenzy.
Yet, at the very center of this ultimate chaos, there were two absolute "points of stillness."
At one end, Whitebeard stood immovable, the tip of Bushinkiri slanting toward the rocky ground. His white captain's coat whipped violently in the turbulent air currents, but his massive, mountain-like frame remained unmoved. His gaze cut through the fray like a lion locking onto its prey, fixating on a lone figure seated high atop the outpost platform in the distance.
At the other end, Gern had somehow risen from that same high platform and quietly leapt down, moving forward with measured, almost unnerving steps. Each step was perfectly composed, radiating a chilling calm that made the heart race.
A faint smirk curved Gern's lips as his left hand finally wrapped around the hilt of the black blade Hakkai, still sheathed in aged gray-and-white bandages at his waist.
Their eyes met midair. No words were exchanged, yet the space between them crackled as if invisible lightning danced and collided there. The entire cacophonous battlefield seemed to dim in the shadow of this silent confrontation.
Even the warriors locked in combat felt it—an involuntary shiver, a subtle hesitation in their movements.
Then, as if in perfect synchrony, both men stepped forward.
Whitebeard dragged the colossal Bushinkiri, its blade carving deep furrows into the rocky ground, sparks flying with every strike.
Gern gripped the hilt of Hakkai in reverse, moving deliberately. His presence was suffocating, like the ominous lull before a tidal wave—silent, oppressive, and inevitable.
As their steps drew them closer, an indescribable dark-red energy began to radiate from both of them—like boiling blood, like living, tangible intent to kill. Black-and-red and dark-purple lightning sparked and hissed through the air.
Whitebeard's Conqueror's Haki surged, winding obsessively around the blade of Bushinkiri. The legendary sword hummed in anticipation, its surface glowing with a deep crimson sheen, as if it had gained a sentient hunger for destruction.
At the same time, Hakkai in Gern's hands began to transform. The tattered bandages frayed and shattered, disintegrating like gray butterflies in the wind, revealing the pitch-black blade beneath, a void that seemed to absorb all light.
A tremendous wave of dark-purple Conqueror's Haki erupted from Gern, wrapping around Hakkai like storm-born lightning—precise, violent, and unstoppable. The air around the blade twisted and collapsed, vibrating with low-frequency resonance.
Step by step, they closed the distance. A slow jog became a full sprint: three hundred meters… two hundred… one hundred… fifty…
For a fleeting instant, the cacophony of the battlefield seemed to vanish. Every eye was irresistibly drawn to them, every onlooker struck dumb by the sheer magnitude of the Conqueror's Haki emanating from these two titans.
Finally, at just ten meters apart, they came to a stop.
"Edward Newgate!!!" Gern's voice thundered like a bolt from the heavens.
"Gern!!!" Whitebeard's roar shook the earth like a primordial beast unleashed.
"BOOM!!! BOOM!!!"
The twin shouts ignited the fuse of the ultimate clash.
In the same instant, their forms vanished—not through elemental powers or teleportation, but propelled purely by bodies breaking the sound barrier with terrifying speed. The ground shattered beneath their launching feet.
Moments later, they collided at the battlefield's heart like two meteors descending in reverse arcs.
Whitebeard's hands gripped Bushinkiri, delivering a strike that could split the heavens and pierce the earth.
Gern met it head-on, holding Hakkai in one hand, slashing upward with fierce precision.
Yet the blades, both suffused with the peak of Conqueror's Haki, didn't make direct contact. In the instant before they would touch, their similarly extreme but fundamentally opposing wills manifested as a violent repulsive force.
"Vvvvrrr!!! Zzzzzz!!!"
A visible, spherical energy field, crackling with black-and-red lightning, erupted between the blades. It was wildly unstable, a chaotic battlefield in miniature, the two wills colliding, compressing, and attempting to annihilate one another. The air tore, space itself warped, even light seemed to vanish in the vortex.
They were striking from a distance—Haki at its absolute limit, will against will, strength against strength. Whoever gave even a fraction of an inch would have their blade shattered first.
"Kurararara!!" Whitebeard laughed, muscles bulging like mountains, pouring inexhaustible force into the blade.
"Hmph!" Gern's gaze was ice-cold as his arm remained rock-steady, his apocalyptic Haki pressing back with equal ferocity.
The black-and-red lightning erupted wildly, the spherical energy field swelling to engulf both men. The ground beneath them began to buckle, collapsing in spiderweb patterns under the impossible pressure.
This was no longer a mere collision of physical weapons—it was a clash of wills, of godlike power, a fight where only absolute determination could prevail.
"Kurararara!!!"
From the center of the energy field, Whitebeard's boisterous laugh rang out, tinged with nostalgia. Through the roar of Haki, Gern could hear it clearly:
"What a feeling… this is a clash that shakes even the soul! Ever since that bastard Roger… I thought I'd never feel it again!"
Gern's arm stayed firm, resisting the tidal wave of power, a cold, sharp smirk forming.
"Hmph. You've said that at least ten times, Whitebeard. Every fight, you repeat yourself."
"That's because you little brat get tougher every time!" Whitebeard laughed again, pouring even more strength into the strike.
"Roger was Roger—a madman chasing his dreams! But you… Gern, you're a living disaster, born to overturn the world! You're infuriating, yet I can't deny… you're the only one since him who makes me take this seriously!"
"Is that so?" Gern's eyes sharpened, Hakkai's Haki flaring even higher. "Then this time… don't let the 'world's strongest man' knock me down, okay?"
"Impudent brat! To surpass me? You've got a hundred years to go!!"
"BOOM!!!"
Their words were drowned out by the explosion of energy. The two Conqueror's Haki spheres had reached their critical point—and erupted with catastrophic force. The resulting shockwave rippled outward in concentric rings, hurling everyone nearby—friend and foe alike—into the air.
Amid the dust and lightning, two figures finally collided with lethal intent.
This time, the blades truly met.
Clang!!
The deafening clash of metal rang through the sky, ripping the horizon asunder.