A legend as strong as Roger… didn't even he fall in the end, struck down by wounds?
If even Roger could lose—then what of Whitebeard?
No one can stand forever.
No pirate crew can remain on the summit of the world, ruling the seas without end.
The Whitebeard Pirates—
The invincible crew that once shook the world—
Perhaps their time has come.
Perhaps it is time for them to retire from the stage of history.
"This day came too soon…"
Vista let out a bitter sigh, his heart filled with both helplessness and unwillingness.
With Whitebeard's defeat, Marco—who had once been determined to fight on—finally gave up.
"Dad… lost?"
He laughed bitterly, though his face was etched with sorrow.
Though Marco was already in his thirties, in the Whitebeard Pirates he had always been one of the old guard, a son who had long since regarded the crew as his home.
Now… that home was gone.
How could Marco possibly accept this?
He had clung to the faint hope that Whitebeard's victory would turn the tide, that the old man's might could still crush Kronos and give the crew one last chance.
But with Whitebeard's fall, the battle was over.
Kronos' victory was absolute.
The Whitebeard Pirates could not defeat the Kamui Pirates.
Faced with Marco's loss of will, Uchiha Madara had no intention of continuing the fight.
An opponent with no desire to battle held no interest for him.
"Boring…"
Madara shook his head, disappointment flashing in his eyes.
He had expected a fight that would last three days and three nights.
But Marco had surrendered without even striking back.
At the same time, the world's strongest man lay broken in a massive crater.
No—
To be precise, he was once the world's strongest man. Now, he could no longer even stand.
After a full day and night of fighting, Whitebeard's body had reached its absolute limit. That last clash had consumed the very last of his strength.
"It's true… I really am too old," Whitebeard thought to himself as he lay on the ground.
Had this battle been fought in his youth, he would never have fallen so quickly.
At the very least…
He could have fought for two or three days!
But now, with age and illness ravaging his body, he was no match for Kronos.
In truth, it was already a miracle he had lasted this long.
Kronos strode toward Whitebeard like a blazing comet, laughing wildly.
"Whitebeard, Whitebeard!"
"Did you ever imagine this day would come?"
Whitebeard, resigned, sighed deeply.
"In this world… what kingship can last forever?"
"I'm not as good as you."
"I admit it."
With those final words, Whitebeard felt the last of his strength drain away, leaving him utterly hollow.
Though he despised Kronos, he could not deny the man's overwhelming strength. The battle itself was undeniable proof.
Even if he were in his prime, Whitebeard knew—he still might not be a match for Kronos.
Absolutely not.
Several division commanders, battered and bloodied, staggered forward desperately, ignoring their own grievous wounds as they rushed to their father's side.
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