Whitebeard… had fallen in battle.
Those few, simple words swept across Marineford like a hurricane.
In the distance, the chaotic clash where Red-Haired Shanks and Kaido were entangled with two Marine Admirals faltered abruptly as the news struck.
"…Huh…"
Kaido stood there, staring toward the plaza of Marineford — at the towering body that remained upright, yet utterly lifeless.
His expression dimmed.
He no longer roared.He no longer tried to smash through the Marine lines.
Because in his eyes, the one who had fallen was no longer "Whitebeard" Edward Newgate.
He was the old brother from the distant Rocks era — the man who, when Kaido had been a reckless rookie beaten bloody and half-dead, had silently tossed him a jug of sake.
The man who, amid chaotic plunder and betrayal, had used that broad back to shield him from a fatal sneak attack.
The tides of time had scoured away too much.They had become rivals. Enemies. Emperors vying for supremacy over the seas.
But now, as the candle of life was extinguished, something long buried beneath layers of pride and ambition finally surfaced.
Shanks sensed the shift in Kaido's aura. Sword in hand, he stepped forward, voice low.
"Kaido, don't—"
"Red-Hair!!!"
A suppressed growl cut him off.
Kaido turned, locking his gaze onto Shanks.
In that moment, there was no calculation of strategy in his eyes.No lust for battle.
Only pure, absolute, bone-chilling killing intent.
"Say one more word…" Kaido tightened his grip on his kanabo, Hassaikai, speaking each syllable deliberately.
"…and here… only one of us walks away alive."
"Do you dare?"
This was no longer the measured chess game of Emperors.
No longer mutual deterrence.
This was a raw invitation to life-or-death combat — stripped of politics, stripped of consequence.
Faced with Kaido's unrestrained madness — born from Whitebeard's death — the words Shanks had intended to say lodged in his throat.
His fingers tightened around Gryphon.
He met Kaido's murderous gaze… and fell silent.
Did he dare?
No.
At least — not now.
He was not like Kaido, who could act purely on impulse, heedless of the world's balance.
Shanks believed he bore a heavier responsibility. He maintained a fragile equilibrium.
He could not gamble everything here — not for a meaningless, mutually destructive slaughter triggered by Kaido's grief.
His hesitation was answer enough.
"Heh."
Kaido snorted, the sound dripping with open ridicule.
He cast one last, lingering glance toward where Whitebeard stood in death.
A low, resonant dragon's growl rolled from his throat.
In the next instant, he fully transformed. A colossal azure dragon surged skyward, clouds churning violently around his vast body.
Without another word to Shanks — without another glance at the battlefield below — he tore through the sky and vanished toward the horizon.
King the Wildfire broke free from his own opponent, shifting into his Pteranodon form, and followed.
...
At the other end of Marineford—
"BOOM!"
Golden Lion Shiki blasted out from the rubble created by "Black Arm" Zephyr's crushing blows and Akainu's molten assault.
Dust clung to him. His kimono hung in tatters.
Even for a legend of his caliber, battling two Marine powerhouses simultaneously had taken its toll.
He swung his twin swords — Oto and Kogarashi — scattering a wave of searing magma, preparing to ascend once more—
But his gaze was drawn, involuntarily, toward the core of the battlefield that had fallen into sudden silence.
And then—
He saw it.
The towering figure standing motionless.
Head lowered.
No life remaining.
He saw Gern Reginald Sigmar as well — bloodied, standing still before that body, his expression unreadable and heavy.
"New…gate…?"
Shiki's pupils contracted sharply.
His grip on his swords slackened. The wild, unrestrained grin that usually adorned his face froze in place.
Shock replaced it.
Disbelief.
And something that felt almost like betrayal.
"Hey… Newgate!!!"
The roar that tore from him trembled — though he did not realize it.
"You stubborn bastard — you're messing with me, right?!!"
He could not accept what he was seeing.
He had witnessed it with his own eyes not long ago — that man restored to his prime.
He had seen the sky-splitting force. The sea-rending power. The pure, heart-shaking Haki.
That was the absolute posture of the "World's Strongest Man" — a title even Golden Lion Shiki had acknowledged without reservation.
"You were back in that state… so how the hell could you lose?!!"
He sounded as if he were interrogating the heavens — or perhaps trying desperately to convince himself.
His eyes remained locked on Whitebeard's peaceful, yet cold visage.
"To some Marine brat? To some Marine brat…"
His voice fell quieter.
"How could he possibly defeat you like that… how could he…"
He repeated the title like a mantra — as if clinging to the last anchor of an era.
"You were… the strongest…"
The final words escaped through clenched teeth, laced with bitterness — and the mournful realization that an age had truly ended.
He had crossed blades with Gol D. Roger.
He had matched arms with Whitebeard.
Together, they had defined an era.
Even after defeat. Even after years of obscurity. Deep in his heart, Shiki had believed only Roger and Newgate stood alongside him at the summit.
But now—
Roger was long since legend.
And Newgate… had fallen before his eyes.
Of the three great titans of the old era, only one remained.
Though the battlefield raged with chaos and numbers beyond counting, Golden Lion Shiki felt utterly alone.
As though he stood solitary before the tidal wave of the new age.
Suddenly, a violent eruption of magma shattered his daze.
Akainu had seized the opening born of Shiki's shock.
"Great Eruption!!"
"Get lost, you magma brat!!!"
Shiki snapped back to himself.
All confusion and sorrow vanished — consumed by towering fury.
Without even turning around, he slashed backward with Kogarashi. A golden arc of sword energy, infused with Armament Haki, cleaved outward and struck the molten fist head-on.
"BOOM!!"
Sword aura and magma collided violently, exploding into a storm of fire and light!
Akainu slid back several steps under the impact, his expression darkening further.
Using the recoil, Shiki did not press the attack.
He did not spare another glance at Akainu or Zephyr.
Instead—
His eyes locked onto Gern, who stood silently before Whitebeard's body.
"Skyquake!!!"
Shiki roared as he accelerated, speed tearing sonic booms through the air behind him.
"The era of legends hasn't ended yet!!!"
He screamed it at the world — or perhaps at himself.
"I'm still here!!!"
Oto and Kogarashi crossed before him, torrents of Conqueror's Haki surging into the twin blades.
"Drop the fake sympathy, you bastard!!!!"
He had seen the complicated look on Gern's face.
But in Shiki's eyes, it was nothing more than a victor's hypocritical pity.
The end of the old era did not require that expression.
Either you stepped over the corpses of legends to reach the summit—
Or you were reduced to ash by their lingering afterglow.
With the resolve to vindicate the old age — and to prove his own existence—
Golden Lion Shiki, the last skyborne pirate of the legendary era,
charged like a moth plunging into flame.
Twin blades crossed.
A colossal cross-shaped slash erupted forth — vast enough to cleave the boundary between old and new.
It tore through the sky, carrying an indomitable will to shatter everything in its path—
Descending upon Gern Reginald Sigmar.
"I, GOLDEN LION, AM STILL HERE!!!!"