"Gurarararara!"
Whitebeard's booming laugh echoed across the sea, oblivious to the tension surrounding him. His Conqueror's Haki—a supreme aura that had dominated the Great Pirate Era—surged with his laughter, sweeping over the waves.
"Father."
Hearing that signature laugh, Marco's chest, tight with unprecedented dread, finally loosened. It was as if he'd returned to the old days, facing the Roger Pirates without fear. The same went for the rest of the crew. Whitebeard's presence dissolved their anxiety, igniting their fighting spirit. One thought burned in their minds: Fight. Follow him to the end.
The captains of the forty-three allied crews felt the same. When Edward Newgate stepped forward at the critical moment, he cast away their oppression. Every one of them resolved to follow him to the grave.
"Finally, we meet," Rosen said, his voice calm. "Whitebeard."
Sensing the shift in his sons' morale, Whitebeard stopped laughing. His tiger-like eyes swept over the three Admirals, Douglas Bullet, and the Marines trailing them like shadows, before locking fearlessly onto Rosen.
"You're wondering why I only brought so few Marines, aren't you?" Rosen met Whitebeard's gaze, his tone not a question, but a statement of fact.
"That Observation Haki is truly annoying," Whitebeard grunted. "It reminds me of that lone wolf."
A long-forgotten face surfaced in Whitebeard's mind.
"Baron Redfield, I suppose," Rosen replied, reading his thoughts effortlessly. "If you miss him so much, there's no need to rush. The remnants of the old era will be reunited soon enough."
Whitebeard scoffed. "Gurarararara! With just a tiny bit of yours? You really think you can manage that?"
He had clashed with the Marines countless times—Sengoku, Garp, the Admirals. But never had Marine Headquarters deployed only a thousand personnel against him.
"That's enough," Rosen said, shaking his head. "Back then, I went to Beehive Island alone. This time, I brought an honor guard for the world's strongest man's funeral."
He paused, unusually offering a question he knew would be refused.
"Do you need to surrender?"
Instantly, fury twisted the faces of the Whitebeard Pirates and their allies.
"Surrender?"
"You know I'd never do that," Whitebeard said, his voice dropping, "so why ask?"
Whitebeard's Observation Haki detected no mockery in Rosen's tone.
"Consider this a gift for your falling out with Baginam," Rosen said, his gaze sweeping over the forty-three allied captains. "Hand over Baginam and the forty-three crews behind you. I'll let you, and the entire Whitebeard Pirates, continue to live."
Each word landed like a hammer.
"Gurarararara! Rosen. Listen to me."
Whitebeard's eyes turned to ice. "I am Whitebeard. I will not allow anyone to harm my son. Every member of the Whitebeard Pirates is my son, and every pirate in these forty-three crews is also my son. If you want their lives, start by breaking this Murakumogiri!"
"Father!" Waibey, Eboita, Squard, and the others were deeply moved, tears pricking their eyes. This was why they would die for him. The world's strongest man truly viewed them as his own.
"What a pity," Rosen said softly. He eyed the supreme grade blade in Whitebeard's hand. "The Murakumogiri. Very well. I will grant your wish. I will break the strongest man in the world, along with the blade in your hand."
A chilling crimson light flashed in his eyes.
Boom!
A terrifying surge of Conqueror's Haki erupted, carrying a pressure that shook the very foundations of the sea. The churning New World waters split apart, riddled with crisscrossing cracks like a shattered mirror. Even the sky fractured, unable to bear the weight. With the release of Haki, the heavens and seas were torn.
Faced with this, Whitebeard didn't flinch. He stood like a mountain on the Moby Dick's bow, grinning wildly. His own eyes surged with crimson light as a Conqueror's Haki of the highest tier—far surpassing the intermediate level—explosion outward like a storm, carrying a tangible, crushing weight.
This was the peak of the Four Emperors. Even without his Tremor-Tremor Fruit, he remained at the pinnacle. His Conqueror's Haki alone could rival a terminally ill Gol D. Roger, or stand against Shanks, who reigned supreme after the Pirate King's death.
Bang!
The moment the Haki of the Navy's apex and the Emperor's peak clashed, a deafening roar erupted. A shockwave pierced the sky and parted the seas. Marco, Vista, and the others expected an earth-shattering struggle. But after a brief, intense collision, Whitebeard's aura—symbolizing the pinnacle of the Four Emperors—receded like a tide, steadily crushed under Rosen's oppressive force.
"The world's strongest man," Rosen declared, watching the pillar-like figure on the Moby Dick. "Not bad. Stronger than Vochury and Kaido."
With just one clash, he felt the weight of the strongest Emperor. In raw power, Edward Newgate at his peak was arguably the strongest king he had faced. Compared to Kaido, who had rampaged at Marine Headquarters, he was considerably stronger. Even the leader of the Five Elders couldn't match him.
But that was all.
Edward Newgate's power, no matter how great, could never surpass the combined might of the Five Elders. Rosen had shattered their power before; how much more so this solitary Whitebeard?
"Even Roger..." Whitebeard's voice was low. "No. Even Rocks didn't possess such power."
An overwhelming pressure washed over him; his pupils constricted. A shock he hadn't felt in decades rose in his heart. Just like the Five Elders, he had known Rosen was strong, but the reality was a brutal, visceral shock.
"How is this possible?" Marco's face twisted in disbelief. In his memory, his father had never lost a Haki clash, not even against the Pirate King. Yet against Rosen, he lasted only a few seconds.
"Marco," Jozu said, appearing at his side. Though he lacked Conqueror's Haki, he could sense the disparity instantly. "Dad's about to give out. Once that aura completely suppresses him—or shatters his Haki—no matter if our forces are fifty times the Marines, we won't have a chance."
Jozu didn't say the rest. Among the nearly 50,000 Whitebeard allies, maybe a hundred could withstand Rosen's aura. The thought sent a chill down Marco's spine.
"Vista. Is the distance sufficient?" Marco demanded, turning to the swordsman.
Vista nodded, his hand already gripping his twin swords. As a renowned swordsman who had sparred with Dracule Mihawk, he needed no second prompting. He drew his blades, Armament Haki surging, turning the steel into black blades crusted with purple-black light. He crossed them, stepped forward, and slashed.
Bang!
Two hundred-meter slashing waves, carrying fluttering rose petals, tore through the air toward Rosen.
"Dual Sword Style: Flower Sword!"
...##
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