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Aokiji's Ice Age flash-froze the tsunami and the surrounding sea, but in the next instant, the ice shattered.
The Moby Dick crashed through the frozen debris, charging toward Marineford.
"Gurararara! Ace, Pops is here to save you!"
Whitebeard gripped Murakumogiri, his naginata, and swung it toward Marineford. The single slash tore the ocean apart, the waters parting so completely that the seabed itself was visible for long, harrowing moments.
"POPS!!!!" Ace's face lit up with joy. He thought he'd never see his father again.
Garp looked up at the Whitebeard Pirates, a flicker of hope in his eyes. He found himself actually wishing they would succeed in rescuing Ace. Everyone has a selfish side, even in the name of justice, personal feelings are hard to ignore.
"Ace, we'll get you out of there in a second!"
"Hahaha, the Marines can't stop us!"
Hearing the pirates' taunts, Sengoku's face turned livid. To be so arrogant even here—they clearly had no respect for Marine Headquarters.
"Fire—" Akainu ordered the Marines, his voice devoid of emotion.
For this war, the Marines had prepared an arsenal of countless cannonballs. A full-scale bombardment began.
Shin's ship had just arrived, just in time to see the Marines open fire on the Whitebeard Pirates.
"The fighting's already started. Good thing we're not late," Shin said, sitting at the bow and watching the chaos unfold.
"Shin, who do you think will win?" Hancock asked, her curiosity piqued.
Shin shrugged. "That's a tough one. I can't say for sure who'll come out on top."
Neither side was weak.
Both the Whitebeard Pirates and the Marines were formidable forces.
Of course, in terms of pure combat strength, the Marines had the upper hand, but their side also had its share of slackers—like Garp, and that lazy bastard Kizaru.
Garp certainly wouldn't fight seriously. Even if he did, he'd hold back. Just like in the original story—if Garp hadn't pulled his punches, there was no way Luffy could have rescued Ace.
Ace had only died in the end because he threw his own life away. Otherwise, the sacrifice of Whitebeard would have been enough to save him.
In the original story, the Summit War was a complete failure for the Whitebeard Pirates. Whitebeard died, and so did Ace.
But now? Who knew? Shin couldn't predict the outcome. Everything depended on Whitebeard's performance. Just what kind of power could he unleash in his prime?
"SENGOKU, YOU ONLY KNOW HOW TO SCHEME! IF YOU'VE GOT THE GUTS, COME AFTER ME! WHAT KIND OF MAN GOES AFTER MY SON?" Whitebeard's gaze was locked on Sengoku.
The slash Whitebeard had unleashed moments ago had been blocked—by Sengoku himself. After transforming into a giant golden Buddha, Sengoku's shockwaves were nothing to scoff at. His strength might not match Whitebeard's, but he could certainly block one of his attacks.
"Sengoku... Shin Uzumaki is here too," Tsuru suddenly reminded him.
A Marine had spotted Shin's arrival and immediately reported it to her.
Sengoku's expression hardened. He hadn't expected Shin to actually show up.
"What's he doing?"
"Nothing for now," Tsuru replied, shaking her head.
"That's good. Let's hope he stays out of it," Sengoku could only pray. If he decided to intervene, Sengoku couldn't stop him.
"Ignore him for now. Focus on Whitebeard. Something about him feels... different."
Sengoku stared at Whitebeard in the distance. Though he looked the same, the sense of threat he radiated had skyrocketed.
Whitebeard, receiving no answer from Sengoku, let his anger show. He leaped from his ship onto Marineford, his aura pressing down on every Marine present. He didn't use Conqueror's Haki—it was an indiscriminate attack that would knock out his own men as easily as the enemy. Shin, on the other hand, had mastered it to the point where he could avoid friendly fire.
Countless scars, large and small, crisscrossed Whitebeard's body—a testament to a lifetime of battle. The sight of them was enough to tell anyone that Whitebeard was a force of nature.
"
Seeing no one move against Whitebeard, Akainu attacked first, a fist of magma flying toward him. The molten rock could melt a steel warship. Even Whitebeard would be vaporized if he took a direct hit without defending himself.
Faced with the incoming magma, Whitebeard's response was simple and direct—a single slash from his naginata.
He coated Murakumogiri in Armament Haki, but his was unique. While others' Haki manifested in black, red, or even purple, Whitebeard's was completely colorless. Most people couldn't even see it when he used it.
The blade sliced through the magma fist, forcing Akainu back. The sheer force of the blow sent a shockwave through the Admiral's body.
"Monstrous strength..." Akainu commented. He was usually the one called a monster, but after feeling Whitebeard's terrifying power, he knew he was still a step below.
If this were like the original story, their strength would have been comparable, with an aging Whitebeard's power severely diminished.
But now, Whitebeard could practically crush him. Akainu alone stood no chance.
"I knew it. My gut was right. Whitebeard feels like he's back in his prime!!" Sengoku said grimly.
From the moment Whitebeard had effortlessly swatted Akainu aside, it was clear that his power was even greater than imagined.
Could the intel have been wrong?
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"Mama, should we help Papa now??" Weevil asked Miss Bakkin.
Hearing her son's question, Miss Bakkin's expression froze.
Help Whitebeard? Not a chance. By the looks of things, the old man was finished.
Miss Bakkin did know Whitebeard—they'd even served on the same crew once. Weevil really was his son.
But given the circumstances, there was no way she would stand with him.
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Whitebeard had no time to spare for them. He was currently facing the combined assault of all three Admirals.
Together, they had managed to temporarily hold him back. But now, the Whitebeard Pirates' ships had reached the shore, and their strongest fighters were disembarking.
"We have to help Pops!" Marco, wreathed in blue flames, charged towards the three Admirals surrounding Whitebeard.
Having eaten the Phoenix-Phoenix Fruit, Marco was fearless, charging straight through a barrage of attacks. He was hit several times, but it didn't seem to matter.
Any wounds he sustained healed in an instant. As long as he had stamina, Marco was as hard to kill as a cockroach—no, even more resilient.
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