HUMMM—!
The sharp whine of vibration energy resonated through the settling dust as a gargantuan silhouette unleashed a colossal fist.
KABOOM!!
Though the dust obscured the details, everyone recognized that power. It was Whitebeard's ability—and the old man was striking again! However, the destructive force of this blow didn't just target the Blackbeard Pirates; the nearby Marines who were spectating also failed to escape the radius.
"AAARGH!"
An immense wave of quake energy swept them aside, sending sand, rubble, and soldiers flying across the horizon. As the air cleared, Whitebeard stood before them once more. His posture, radiating raw power, left the spectators too terrified to breathe. The sight of Marines scattered through the air like helpless dolls was as spectacular as it was horrifying.
"Whitebeard!" Sengoku could no longer remain still. He rushed to the front of the formation, gritting his teeth as he barked, "You've gone too far!"
Whitebeard spared a sideways glance at Teach, who was being carried off by his crew, suppressing the urge to strike the traitor dead then and there. He slowly turned his gaze toward the Fleet Admiral.
"Sengoku... Gurarararara!" Whitebeard erupted into laughter. He only stopped when Sengoku's face had turned a shade of black that bordered on the void.
"Do you still think you can keep us here?"
Sengoku's face had briefly returned to its natural color when the laughter died down, but at those words, it darkened once more. Fury burned in his chest. He could not fathom why Whitebeard—who had been a withered husk of a man moments ago—was suddenly healed.
Yes, healed!
At this distance, Sengoku could see that while Whitebeard wore his captain's coat over his shoulders, his torso was bare. The jagged, lethal wounds that had riddled his chest and abdomen were gone, replaced by smooth skin and old battle scars. If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Sengoku would have never believed it.
What on earth could heal Whitebeard instantly and flawlessly?
Suddenly, the words Drake had shouted earlier echoed in Sengoku's mind, making his body stiffen. He turned his eyes toward Vale D. Drake, who was still locked in a desperate struggle with Akainu.
A variable!
To Sengoku, Drake was the ultimate anomaly. Since the moment the boy appeared, every single Marine plan had been derailed. The Siege Walls had failed, Ace had been rescued, and now, even an Admiral like Akainu was being stalled by yet another "brother."
Then there was the Revolutionary, Sabo. These were exceptionally gifted young men—the kind of talent seen once in a generation. Together, they were shifting the very axis of this era. Sengoku concluded that Whitebeard's recovery must have been Drake's doing—some sort of item or ability passed to the Emperor.
It was a testament to the mind of "Sengoku the Tactician" that he correctly identified the source of his headache so quickly. He credited the disastrous turn of the war entirely to Drake's intervention.
Hearing Whitebeard's taunt, the Marine ranks erupted in anger. They bore the weight of this era's Justice on their shoulders; failure was not an option they were prepared to accept.
"We will not lose this war!" Sengoku declared solemnly. As the Fleet Admiral and the supreme commander of the World Government's military, his resolve was absolute.
"And we will never surrender!"
This war had to be a victory. It wasn't just about executing the bloodline of the Pirate King; it was a demonstration to the world that the Navy could conquer any pirate threat. Even the world's strongest crew—the Whitebeard Pirates—was meant to fall here.
A victory would bolster the Navy's recruitment and prestige while striking terror into the hearts of lawless men across the seas. In this Great Pirate Era, the Navy needed a victory of world-shaking proportions to reassure the public. If they retreated even half a step now, the consequences were predictable: the world would sink into deeper chaos, pirates would wear their titles like badges of honor, and the authority of the World Government would evaporate. It would be a fatal blow to their very existence.
"Gurarararara..." Whitebeard took a deliberate step forward. Behind him, the Division Commanders began to gather, forming a wall of legendary power.
The Marines met the challenge. High-ranking officers—Vice Admirals, Rear Admirals, and Captains—flanked Sengoku. They were the backbone of the Navy. Kizaru also sauntered over, taking his place beside the Fleet Admiral.
With Akainu occupied by Drake and Aokiji dealing with Sabo, Kizaru was the only Admiral left to guard the rear.
"Ah... cough... huff..." In the tense silence, a ragged sound broke the air.
Teach had regained consciousness. He was panting heavily, blood drenching his head and torso, spraying from his mouth with every ragged breath. To have survived two direct, full-power shockwaves from Whitebeard was a testament to his freakish durability. However, even an undying cockroach like Blackbeard had hit his limit. Looking at his mangled state, he appeared to be on the verge of collapse.
Yet the Blackbeard Pirates were still a force to be reckoned with.
The Whitebeard Pirates, the Marines, and the Blackbeard Pirates—three major powers stood in a triangular standoff.
Currently, the Blackbeard Pirates were in the weakest position. They had come to play the vulture and reap the rewards, but instead, they had been caught in the crossfire. They had offended both the Whitebeard Pirates and the Navy, and their captain was barely functional. The criminals behind Teach felt a chill of unease; they were brave and powerful, but their enemies were the Strongest Man in the World and the entire might of the Marine Headquarters.
Just as the situation seemed hopeless for them, Teach pushed himself off Burgess's shoulder. Despite his horrific injuries and the desperate situation, his gaze remained unchanged—piercing, ruthless, and steeped in darkness.
"Help me up," Teach commanded. With Burgess's support, he slowly stood.
"Blackbeard!" Sengoku hissed, though he held his tongue for a moment. He had already received reports of the break-in at Impel Down. Looking at the monsters standing behind Teach, the truth was obvious: Blackbeard's goal had been to enter the Great Prison and recruit a crew of legends.
Now that his goal was achieved, he no longer needed the Warlord title. It was a staggering insult to the Navy—as if Teach had taken the collective intellect of the World Government and ground it into the dirt beneath his heel.
If there was one person the Marines hated more than the pirates in that moment, it was Marshall D. Teach.
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