Whitebeard, covered in blood, knelt at the bottom of the crater. His entire body looked like it had just crawled out of a pool filled with fresh blood, and even the sand beneath him had turned a terrifying dark red.
The power of the Quake-Quake Fruit was undeniable, but the stronger the attack, the greater the burden on the body. In his current state, unleashing that last strike had already pushed Whitebeard to his absolute limit.
"No wonder you're called Whitebeard… that was close," Kizaru remarked as his figure reappeared in the crater, genuinely impressed by Whitebeard's resilience.
Despite never having encountered a Stand User before, Whitebeard had relied on his battle-hardened instincts to find a way to counter a Stand at the last moment.
Unfortunately for him, Kizaru wasn't just any Stand User—he was also a Logia-type Devil Fruit user. No matter how much damage his Stand took, it wouldn't affect his real body in the slightest.
And honestly, even if Whitebeard were in his prime, breaking Kizaru's Stand would still be impossible.
Stands were powerful manifestations of life energy born from their users. With Kizaru's immense life energy, "The Flash" had reached an insane level of speed and power. Even the so-called Star Platinum would be no match—it would only take a single punch.
"Kh… Gurararara… Not bad, Navy monster… What the hell was that just now?"
Whitebeard leaned on his naginata, Murakumogiri, and shakily stood up. His bloodied face still bore that bold, fearless grin.
"You could think of it as a new ability I developed," Kizaru replied casually. He had no intention of lying to Whitebeard, but he also had no reason to outright explain the nature of Stands.
Technically, it wasn't even a lie—"The Flash" was indeed a new ability he had developed. He just hadn't specified whether it came from his Stand or his Devil Fruit.
"I see… Quite the terrifying power… Looks like this is the end of my journey…"
Whitebeard's breathing grew more labored, but his eyes remained firm. Even with death closing in, his fighting spirit never wavered.
"That's right."
Kizaru nonchalantly drew a lightsaber from thin air, ready to end Whitebeard's life.
On the other side of the battlefield, Blackbeard was being brutally beaten by Esdeath and Hancock, his swollen face now resembling that of a pig. Honestly, considering his original appearance, the beating had almost been an improvement—it was less "disfiguring" and more "cosmetic surgery."
"Darkness: Maximum Release!"
Though Esdeath had frozen everything below his neck solid, preparing to send him to Orochimaru's world for research, Blackbeard had been biding his time. Feigning helplessness, he struck at the perfect moment.
A massive surge of black smoke erupted from his body, along with an avalanche of ice and rock, blasting outward like a catastrophic landslide.
Blackbeard had been waiting for this exact moment. His only chance of turning the tide was stealing the Quake-Quake Fruit from Whitebeard.
No matter how badly Esdeath and Hancock had beaten him, he had gritted his teeth and saved his last and strongest attack for this.
And now, he had his opening—Whitebeard was at death's door, and those two women were momentarily distracted.
"Zeahahahaha! The power of the Quake-Quake Fruit belongs to me!"
Dark smoke billowed from Blackbeard's lower body as he charged at Whitebeard, his grotesquely swollen face twisted in ecstatic glee.
Then—
A flash of light.
The world spun.
The next thing Blackbeard saw was… a headless corpse flying past his field of vision.
For some reason, that corpse looked strangely familiar…
Like he had seen it somewhere before…
Oh.
Right.
It was his own body.
No wonder it looked familiar.
"You think you can take advantage of me? Over my dead body."
Kizaru casually flicked the nonexistent blood off his lightsaber.
Taking down a half-dead Blackbeard was barely an effort. Who the hell did Blackbeard think he was, imagining that Kizaru would just stand by and watch as he stole Whitebeard's power?
"T-T-T—Teach…?"
Whitebeard had been about to use his last bit of strength to finish off Blackbeard, but he hadn't expected Kizaru to suddenly step in and decapitate him in such a straightforward and brutal manner.
Even for someone like Teach, a freak with more than one heart, there was no surviving without a head.
"Blackbeard is dead. Whitebeard, it's about time for you to go too."
Kizaru swung his lightsaber, his figure flashing forward toward Whitebeard.
But just as he lunged, his expression suddenly changed.
The ground between him and Whitebeard exploded, and a grotesquely large face suddenly emerged, puckering up its bright red lips in an attempt to plant a kiss on him.
It was none other than the Revolutionary Army's Grand Line Commander, the Okama King—Ivankov!
"WHAT THE HELL?!"
At the critical moment, Kizaru stopped dead in his tracks, barely managing to slam on the brakes. Meanwhile, his Stand acted on its own, launching a devastating punch that sent the cross-dressing menace flying.
That bastard still owed him payback for tricking him with that gender-changing drug back then. And now, he wanted to traumatize him again?!
"UWAAH! That hurts!"
Ivankov howled as his entire face contorted from the punch. Kizaru's Stand hadn't held back at all, and if it weren't for Ivankov's insanely durable mug, his skull might've exploded on the spot.
"You damn freak! Are you trying to die?!"
Kizaru cursed through gritted teeth, old grudges and new fury flooding his mind. If it weren't for their past connections, Ivankov would already be a corpse.
"So scary, so scary…!"
Ivankov shivered as he clutched his bruised face. He had severely underestimated how pissed off Kizaru still was at him. If that kiss had actually landed, would he have been beaten to death on the spot?
…Probably not.
Given their history, it'd more likely result in dozens of broken bones and a year-long stay in the hospital.
"Old man! I'm getting you out of here!"
A streak of blue flames shot down from the sky as Marco landed. The Phoenix's Mythical Zoan regeneration was insane—even after taking a direct hit from Kizaru's Stand, he had already recovered.
But before he could administer emergency treatment, Whitebeard stopped him.
Whitebeard knew his own body well—he was already at his limit. Not even burning Marco out would be enough to heal these wounds.
"You guys need to go. Take Ace, take everyone—live. Get back to the New World safely!"
"I'm just an old relic of a past era. There's no ship in the new age that can carry me anymore!"
Pushing Marco aside, Whitebeard stood tall once more, his massive frame straightening with pride.
Memories flashed through his mind—Rocks, Roger, Oden…
"Old man…!"
Marco tried to protest, but Whitebeard's resolve was unshakable.
After fighting Sengoku and Kizaru for so long—especially after the injuries Kizaru inflicted—Whitebeard's body was already at its breaking point.
The only reason he was still standing was to buy his sons a chance to escape.
From what he knew of Kizaru, the so-called "Navy Monster" probably had no interest in the Whitebeard Pirates without their captain.
And for the Navy, wiping out the Whitebeard Pirates completely wasn't necessarily a good thing either. They weren't in a position to quickly take over Whitebeard's territories. If they destabilized the balance too much, it could spark a massive war between the New World pirates, leaving it a lawless battlefield.
Not to mention, the Beast Pirates and Big Mom Pirates would seize the opportunity to expand their reach. If the situation wasn't controlled quickly, the New World could turn into a feeding frenzy, birthing something truly monstrous in the chaos.
"We'll settle our score next time!"
Kizaru wasn't planning on killing Ivankov—at least, not right now.
As he stepped past the Okama King and approached Whitebeard, Marco suddenly blocked his path.
"If you want to hurt Pops, you'll have to—"
WHAM!
Before Marco could even finish, a heavy palm struck the back of his neck.
With a thud, the Phoenix collapsed unconscious.
"Gurararara… I'm not so old that I need to hide behind my sons!"
Whitebeard grabbed Marco's limp body and hurled him toward Ivankov, who was still cowering in a defensive stance.
He had already accepted that he would die here in Marineford.
But Marco and the others still had a future—they didn't need to die with him.
"Whoa! Got him!"
Ivankov froze for a moment before hastily spreading his arms to catch Marco, barely managing to prevent him from crashing onto the ground.
Kizaru watched but didn't interfere. Just as Whitebeard had guessed, his sole target was Whitebeard—he had no intention of wiping out the Whitebeard Pirates completely.
Without Whitebeard, they no longer had the strength to be considered an Emperor's crew, but they were still formidable enough to hold onto their territory in the New World for now, preventing an immediate power vacuum and large-scale chaos.
For Kizaru, who was about to take over as Fleet Admiral, maintaining stability was reason enough to let them go.
"Are you ready, Whitebeard?"
Golden light slowly gathered in Kizaru's right hand.
Before traveling to this world, he had actually liked Whitebeard's character quite a bit.
But after so many years—and after clashing with Whitebeard numerous times—any admiration he might have had had long since faded.
Now, Whitebeard was nothing more than a potential threat to the Navy—nothing more, nothing less.
"Gurararara! You think taking my head is that easy?"
Whitebeard's massive fist shone with the power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit.
This final attack had been meant for Teach, the traitor.
But before he could deliver that blow, Teach had already died at Kizaru's hands.
Although it felt a bit ungrateful to turn on his "savior," Whitebeard had no choice.
For the sake of his sons' escape, his last attack would now be aimed at Kizaru.
"Old man, no!"
"Damn it! Let's fight the Navy to the death!"
"Even if we die, we have to save Pops!"
A wave of anger and grief swept through the Whitebeard Pirates. Even those who had already retreated to the ships, ready to escape Marineford, now hesitated—many of them were prepared to jump back into the battle and die fighting alongside Whitebeard.
"Idiots! Are you going to waste Pops' sacrifice?! Get back on the ship!"
The 5th Division Commander, Flower Sword Vista, roared at them.
To cover their retreat, he had fought alone against several Vice Admirals and thousands of Marine elites, holding the line with sheer willpower.
By the time reinforcements arrived, Vista's body was drenched in blood, as if he had been pulled straight from a sea of carnage.
At this point, even he wasn't sure how much of the blood on him was his own and how much belonged to his enemies.
Yet despite his wounds, Vista still stood firm on the front lines, following Whitebeard's final order—protecting their crew and their Revolutionary Army allies until the very end.
"Everyone, fall back to the ships! Leave this to me!"
The 3rd Division Commander, Diamond Jozu, roared as he hoisted a massive ice spike—the same colossal structure left behind by Esdeath earlier.
Relying on his terrifying raw strength, Jozu lifted the hundreds-of-meters-long ice monolith and wielded it like a weapon.
"What the hell is that?!"
"That strength is insane!"
"Damn it! We can't get past that!"
The sheer weight of the ice monolith was immeasurable—it must have been tens of millions of tons.
Even for Jozu, only his Diamond Fruit transformation allowed him to bear such an absurd burden. Without it, the sheer weight alone would crush him into paste.
"You wanna compare strength with me?! I won't lose!"
A Giant Vice Admiral stepped forward, relying on his natural colossal strength, attempting to wrest the ice monolith from Jozu's grasp.
At the very least, he wanted to disrupt Jozu's swings and prevent him from using it as a blockade.
But he underestimated both Jozu's raw power and the sheer weight of the ice.
Instead of taking the weapon away, he was sent flying by a single crushing impact from the ice monolith.
Still, the efforts of the Division Commanders were not enough to turn the tide.
With more and more pirates and revolutionaries retreating, the number of those staying behind to fight dwindled.
Even though the remaining Division Commanders were all powerhouses, they were still up against tens—if not hundreds—of times their number in elite Marines.
Against such overwhelming numbers, their struggles were futile.
Across the world, countless people watched the live broadcast, witnessing the fall of the Whitebeard Pirates unfold in real time.
And then—
°°°
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