"You brat, you've gone too deep! The Marines aren't something to trifle with!" Whitebeard's booming voice thundered across the battlefield.
His massive bisento struck the ground, cracking it wide open. "Marco, Jozu, Vista! Don't let these small fry hold you back. Follow me and support Ashveil!"
The Tremor-Tremor Fruit's power rippled outward, the air distorting as Whitebeard swung his fist. The ground in front of him split apart, creating a massive fissure that devoured dozens of Marines into the depths below.
Whitebeard and his commanders surged forward, cutting through the chaos toward the heart of the battle—toward Thorne Ashveil.
---
In the center of the battlefield, the Admirals surrounded Ashveil from three sides, their eyes sharp and focused. The atmosphere was thick with killing intent.
"Brat, you're far too arrogant," Kizaru said lazily, though his tone lacked its usual amusement. "If you'd just stayed with your allies, we couldn't have done much against you. But coming here alone…" He tilted his head slightly. "That was a mistake."
Vice Admiral Tokikake stepped forward, blade in hand. "Advancing this deep by yourself—don't blame us for what happens next." His voice was calm but deadly serious.
Ashveil chuckled, unbothered. "Ganging up on me again, huh? It's not the first time you've done that."
Their faces hardened. Each of these men was powerful enough to dominate an entire sea on their own. But against Thorne Ashveil—this anomaly who defied reason—they knew they had to fight together.
Aokiji exhaled slowly, frost curling from his mouth. "You're a troublesome one, Ashveil. But this time, we're not holding back."
Sengoku's earlier order echoed in their minds: If necessary, execute him on the spot. There would be no mercy today.
Kizaru adjusted his tea-colored sunglasses, the reflection of Ashveil's crimson aura glinting across the lenses. "What a terrifying monster," he muttered. "Guess we really do have to go all out."
Ashveil tilted his head, lips curling into a faint smirk. "You three don't actually think teaming up guarantees victory, do you?"
"Don't get cocky, brat," Tokikake snapped. "Looks like you didn't learn your lesson from last time."
Aokiji and Kizaru nodded slightly. They had faced him before—barely managing to suppress him. But now, with their teamwork more refined than ever, they were confident they could bring him down again.
Yet Ashveil's expression never wavered. "You think I lost last time by accident? No. I held back." His tone sharpened, carrying quiet confidence. "Let me show you what real power looks like."
A surge of pressure burst outward, shaking the very air around him. Conqueror's Haki erupted like a tidal wave, black and red lightning arcing wildly across the sky. Above Ashveil's head, energy coalesced into a massive, crimson-black fist.
But this time, the aura burned hotter—liquid magma began to swirl within the Haki. The heat distorted the air, and the ground beneath his feet began to melt.
The fusion of raw Haki and volcanic fury turned the sky blood-red.
Kizaru's lazy demeanor cracked for the first time, his mouth twitching in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me… His Conqueror's Haki can merge with a Devil Fruits?" His voice wavered as the reflection of the magma-infused giant fist flickered in his lenses.
Aokiji's breath misted as he stared upward. "Combining Haki and Logia essence in a single attack… I've never seen anything like it," he muttered, his tone low and tense.
Tokikake's grip tightened around his sword. "An unheard-of attack method. We can't take this lightly. We strike together—now!"
Above them, the crimson fist pulsed, each beat sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield. The sky seemed to ignite, the oppressive heat forcing even seasoned Marines to shield their faces.
With a sharp exhale, Ashveil thrust his arm forward.
"Fall."
The Conqueror's Haki Magma Fist descended like divine punishment. The world turned scarlet as the giant fist roared downward, a manifestation of absolute destruction. The very air split apart as the attack streaked toward Marine Headquarters.
The moment it struck, the sea itself seemed to tremble.
"W-What is that?!"
"His power—he's targeting Marine Headquarters!"
"That building holds records from every corner of the world! It represents global peace!"
Marines shouted in panic as they watched the crimson inferno plummet from the sky. The combined will and volcanic might of one man threatened to obliterate the symbol of justice itself.
The fear in their voices spread like wildfire.
"No one's ever seen a move like that before!"
"Someone—stop him!"
From the distance, Whitebeard paused mid-stride, eyes narrowing as the red glow illuminated his massive figure. "So that's your move, brat…" His deep voice rumbled, carrying both awe and amusement.
Marco, flying beside him, looked on in shock. "Pops! What kind of attack is that?! Even the air looks like it's on fire!"
Whitebeard shook his head slowly, his expression grim. "To tell you the truth, Marco, even I've never seen something like that before."
The words of the world's strongest man silenced those around him. Jozu and Vista exchanged stunned looks, disbelief flashing across their faces.
Even Whitebeard—who had seen countless powers and fought every kind of monster the seas had to offer—was witnessing something completely new.
The battlefield seemed to freeze in time. Every eye turned toward Ashveil as his magma fist continued to descend, blazing like a meteor from the heavens.
The Admirals braced themselves. Kizaru's body became light, Aokiji's froze the ground around him, and Tokikake raised his blade, its crimson glow intensifying.
All three launched their counterattacks at once. Light bullets, ice spears, and cutting waves collided with the falling fist, shaking the island with deafening force.
The explosion that followed split the sky apart.
A blinding light engulfed Marineford as the shockwave swept across the sea, sending debris flying for miles. The ocean surged violently, waves crashing against the island's walls as smoke and magma filled the air.
When the blinding flare faded, the once-proud plaza of Marineford was left in ruins—craters, shattered stone, and molten earth.
High above the chaos, Thorne Ashveil stood firm, his coat whipping in the wind, his gaze unyielding. His power had turned the tides once again, forcing even the world's greatest powers to acknowledge one simple truth.
The age of the Marines' absolute dominance was no longer guaranteed.
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