"Ugh..." Whitebeard's eyes snapped open. He gritted his teeth, forcing back the agony radiating from the countless wounds covering his body, and stood tall once more.
His towering silhouette felt like an unshakeable mountain, even as his blood dyed the ice a dark, visceral crimson!
"Gurararara... What's wrong? Afraid to step forward?" Whitebeard's aura didn't waver in the slightest despite his injuries.
For a moment, not a single Marine dared to advance.
A Marine officer gnashed his teeth and charged, roaring, "Everyone together! He's at his limit!"
There were still men like this in the Navy—men whose sense of "Justice" forbade them from retreating even half a step.
"KILL HIM!"
The Marines swarmed him like locusts. Facing Whitebeard was like facing a natural disaster; they had to give everything, charging with a suicidal fervor.
HUMMM—! Whitebeard gripped Murakumogiri, gathered the power of vibrations, and unleashed a massive horizontal slash.
BOOM!!
The crushing force cleared the area before him instantly, sending Marines flying through the air like discarded ragdolls.
"AAARGH!"
"You think mere numbers can kill me?" Whitebeard stood firm, leaning on his polearm. Though he appeared to be at the end of his tether, his Haki remained formidable.
Several Marine commanders spotted an opening and leaped into the air, blades drawn, aiming for Whitebeard's back.
"Hmm?" Whitebeard's eyes cut to the side, and he slammed his left fist backward.
CRACK!
The space shattered. The officers were sent hurtling back, spraying blood as their eyes rolled into their heads. They were unconscious before they even hit the ground.
ZIP! Suddenly, a laser beam pierced the air.
A fresh, smoking hole appeared on Whitebeard's torso.
"You've grown careless... Whitebeard!"
Kizaru stood a short distance away, his finger pointed casually toward the Emperor.
"Gah... cough!" Whitebeard spat out a fresh mouthful of blood, his vision beginning to blur.
"Go! Finish him!" At Kizaru's command, the surrounding Marines' morale surged. They surged toward the giant from all sides.
In a corner of the battlefield, a small group gathered.
"Captain Buggy, it's time to move! Take Whitebeard's head and claim your fame!" The escapees behind Buggy were practically vibrating with excitement.
Buggy turned around, snot nearly running down his face from pure terror. Are these guys blind? he screamed internally. Look at him! Does that look like a man who's finished? One punch from him and the whole island is history!
Buggy made a silent, executive decision: he was not going in. Absolutely not!
But the "God Buggy" legend was a fickle thing. His cowardice was interpreted by his followers as the stoic silence of a hero respecting a peer. They were moved to tears.
One of the dumber-looking prisoners held the visual Den Den Mushi, which had finally been thawed out with water.
The war reached its absolute peak.
The Marines had mobilized every available soul for this day. The number of Vice Admirals was at an all-time high, and one hundred thousand elite soldiers were no joke. Against such a sea of people, even a man with the strength of a potential Admiral would have been torn apart.
But this was Whitebeard!
VROOM! Whitebeard stood up yet again, spinning Murakumogiri in a full circle. A tidal wave of vibration energy swept outward.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Marines were launched in every direction, and the entirety of Marineford shuddered under the impact!
"Ugh..." After the move, Whitebeard's aura flickered. He seemed to be relying entirely on his weapon to stay upright.
"Now! A golden opportunity!" Seeing him weaken, the Marines swarmed back in.
STAB!SHUCK!
Blades were driven into Whitebeard's chest. On his back, several Marines clung to him, stabbing wildly. They were like ants devouring an elephant, a sight that made the skin of the onlookers crawl.
"POPS!!"
The Whitebeard Pirates wailed in grief, their eyes brimming with tears.
"Pops..." Marco was the closest. Although Whitebeard had ordered the retreat, Marco had intended to witness his father's final moments—until Drake had thrown a wrench in the gears.
"Hurry up and unlock this!" Marco shouted, his heart burning with anxiety. He didn't fully understand Drake's plan, but if there was a sliver of hope, he wouldn't let it go. He refused to let his father die like this.
"We're looking for the man!" his subordinates replied, frantic. They needed Mr. 3, and they needed him now.
"POPS!!!"
A roar tore through the sky as a torrent of fire erupted across the plaza. Ace, transformed into a spiraling inferno, tore through the ranks. Anyone who stood in his path was incinerated or blasted away by the heat.
"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"
Ace was reaching a state of pure frenzy.
"Mirror Flame!"
Nearby, the crowd noticed that Admiral Aokiji's uniform was tattered and his face was smeared with soot. Sabo stood before him, blocking his every attempt to intervene. Faced with two Flame-Flame users, even Aokiji had been forced to give ground.
Ace and Sabo were largely unscathed. The result of the clash was clear. Raw power wasn't the only factor; the elemental hierarchy played its part. Aokiji's ice was powerless against their concentrated heat.
The three Admirals were masters of their fruits, but when those fruits were countered, they were forced to rely on raw Haki and physical prowess. Against two of them, Aokiji was struggling.
"Where do you think you're going...?" Just as Ace was about to reach Whitebeard, a golden light flared.
BAM! Kizaru delivered a mid-air kick that sent Ace skidding across the ice.
"Kizaru!" Ace scrambled to one knee, gritting his teeth as he glared at the Admiral. He knew he wasn't yet strong enough to brush past a man like Kizaru. The Admiral's speed and destructive power were legendary; getting past him was an almost impossible task.
"Gurararara..."
The sound of the laugh made Ace's heart skip a beat.
"You really think... this is enough to kill me?"
Whitebeard's eyes snapped open. He gathered his strength and spun; the Marines clinging to him were launched into the air by the sheer force of his rotation.
"AAARGH!"
An invisible pressure rippled out from him. Within a thirty-meter radius, no one could even stand. The mere shockwave of his aura sent the rank-and-file flying.
"He's a monster! A literal monster!" A Marine recruit screamed, collapsing in despair.
By all logic, Whitebeard had sustained enough injuries to kill a normal man ten times over. Yet, there he stood, as unyielding as the sky.
THUD! Whitebeard slammed Murakumogiri into the ice and smirked. "Hmph..."
"Kizaru, you brat... the one standing before you is my son!"
In a blur of motion, Whitebeard appeared behind Kizaru, his blade swinging in a massive arc.
BANG!
Kizaru dissolved into light, narrowly evading the strike, and quickly put distance between them. Even an Admiral would feel "rejuvenated" after taking a hit from Whitebeard—and not in a good way. Since reaching the top, Kizaru hadn't taken a beating this severe.
As a "professional salaryman," Kizaru knew when to push and when to clock out. He wasn't about to stick his neck out for nothing. Look at the other two: one was bleeding out, the other was being roasted like a dog.
Aokiji looked tattered, but he wasn't seriously injured; his clothes were just ruined. Akainu, on the other hand, was actually bleeding and suffering.
Whitebeard's aura flared, his massive frame radiating a power that seemed capable of ending the world. But anyone with eyes could see he was a dying ember. He couldn't hold on much longer.
However...
The Marines knew this, yet not a single one of them had the courage to step forward and challenge him.
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