The devastating emergence of the Colossal Titan had tilted the battlefield dramatically in favor of the Straw Hat Pirates, but the reprieve proved tragically short-lived. Despite eliminating thousands of enemy combatants in a single catastrophic attack, the core leadership of both Baroque Works and the Blackbeard Pirates had survived through Crocodile's sand-based protection, and these elite fighters represented a qualitatively different threat than mere foot soldiers.
The harsh reality of their situation became clear within moments of Eren's forced disconnection from his hundred-meter titan form. Against opponents of this caliber, raw destructive power alone would not guarantee victory—tactical intelligence, Devil Fruit mastery, and years of combat experience would prove equally decisive factors.
Eren staggered to his feet amid the smoking ruins of the coastline, his body still radiating heat from the emergency separation procedure. The bag of Rumble Balls remained clutched in his left hand, representing his only hope of matching the overwhelming opposition they now faced. If he could consume additional enhancement drugs, perhaps another titan transformation could turn the tide once again.
Ever since his arrival in this pirate world, the nature of his titan power had warped into the form of a Devil Fruit ability. He still possessed access to all nine of his titanic forms, but each transformation demanded an immense toll.
That hope died with the sharp crack of Van Augur's rifle.
The bullet struck with surgical precision, shattering bones and severing tendons as it tore through Eren's right arm. The bag of Rumble Balls scattered across the scorched earth, their spherical forms rolling beyond reach as blood poured from his mangled limb.
"Excellent shot," Van Augur observed with professional satisfaction, already chambering another round. "Target neutralized."
The sniper's tactical analysis proved devastatingly accurate. Without access to additional Rumble Balls, Eren's options now were limited to his standard twenty-meter Attack Titan form—formidable against normal opponents, but potentially inadequate against enemies who had specifically prepared countermeasures for his abilities.
Steam erupted around Eren's position as he initiated his transformation sequence, golden lightning arcing through the air as his human form expanded into the familiar pointed-eared giant. The Attack Titan's emergence sent shockwaves through the already devastated landscape, but its reduced size seemed almost modest compared to the Colossal Titan's previous magnificence.
Crocodile approached the newly manifested threat with confident strides, his golden hook gleaming in the filtered sunlight. "So you're reduced to this now," the Shichibukai observed with predatory satisfaction. "How disappointing. I was hoping for more entertainment from someone capable of such spectacular destruction."
The battle that followed demonstrated the cruel efficiency of elemental Devil Fruit abilities against opponents lacking Haki training. Every strike from the Attack Titan's hardened fists passed harmlessly through Crocodile's sand-transformed body, while each counterattack drained vital moisture from the giant's tissues.
"Sables!" (Sand Blade)
Crocodile's arm transformed into a crescent-shaped blade of compressed sand that sliced deep gouges across the titan's torso. The wounds weren't immediately fatal, but they forced Eren to constantly regenerate damaged tissue—a process that consumed enormous amounts of energy with each repetition.
"Desert Spada"
Blades of sand erupted from the earth beneath the Attack Titan's feet, carving upward through muscle and bone with relentless pressure. Eren found himself caught in a deadly rhythm—healing from one attack only to face the next, gradually wearing down his regenerative capabilities through sustained attrition.
The fundamental mismatch was obvious to any experienced combatant. Without Armament Haki to make his attacks tangible against Logia-type opponents, the Attack Titan was essentially fighting a battle he could not win through conventional means.
Meanwhile, other members of the Straw Hat crew faced their own desperate struggles against opponents who outclassed them in both experience and raw power.
Luffy had charged toward the main battlefield with characteristic enthusiasm, his rubber fists stretched back for a devastating "Gomu Gomu no Bazooka" attack. But Blackbeard's timing proved perfect—the moment physical contact was established, Luffy's Devil Fruit abilities simply ceased to function.
"What?!" Luffy gasped as his extended arms snapped back to normal length with painful force. "What happened to my powers?"
"Zehahaha! Welcome to the true terror of darkness!" Blackbeard's massive fist connected with Luffy's jaw, sending the Straw Hat captain flying backward without the protective cushioning his rubber body normally provided. "The Yami Yami no Mi cancels all Devil Fruit abilities on contact! You're just another weak human now!"
The psychological impact was devastating. Luffy had built his entire fighting style around his rubber physiology—every technique, every tactical approach depended on abilities that were now completely useless. Fighting Blackbeard meant engaging in pure hand-to-hand combat against an opponent with superior reach, weight, and experience.
"Kurouzu!" (Black Hole)
Dark energy erupted from Blackbeard's position, creating an irresistible gravitational pull that dragged Luffy back within punching range despite his attempts to maintain distance. Another bone-crushing blow sent him crashing into the rocky shoreline, while Teach's laughter echoed across the battlefield.
"Your little pirate game ends today, Straw Hat!" the former Whitebeard pirate declared with vicious satisfaction.
Roronoa Zoro found himself locked in single combat with Daz Bonez, the man known throughout the criminal underworld as Mr. 1. The swordsman's three-blade style had served him well against countless opponents, but this particular enemy represented a uniquely challenging matchup.
The Supa Supa no Mi (Dice-Dice Fruit) had transformed every part of Bonez's body into living steel, granting him the ability to generate blades from any surface while maintaining near-impervious defensive capabilities. His combat philosophy was brutally simple: overwhelm opponents through relentless offensive pressure while remaining virtually immune to retaliation.
"Spiral Hollow!"
Bonez's arms transformed into spinning drill-bits that carved through the air with mechanical precision. Zoro barely managed to deflect the attack with his crossed swords, but the impact sent vibrations through his blades that left his hands numb and aching.
"Atomic Spurt!"
Multiple blade projectiles erupted from the assassin's fingertips, forcing Zoro into desperate evasive maneuvers that gradually pushed him toward increasingly disadvantageous terrain. Each exchange left new cuts across his arms and torso—minor wounds individually, but accumulating into a pattern of systematic degradation.
"You're skilled," Bonez acknowledged with professional respect, "but skill alone won't cut through steel. Your swords are reaching their limits."
The observation was accurate. Zoro's blades, while well-maintained and expertly wielded, lacked the supernatural sharpness needed to damage his opponent's metallic body effectively. Without breakthrough techniques or superior equipment, this battle would inevitably end in his defeat.
Sanji's confrontation with Jesus Burgess proved equally one-sided, though for different reasons. The Blackbeard Pirates' helmsman combined professional wrestling techniques with raw physical power that dwarfed anything the cook had previously encountered.
"Champion Lariat!"
Burgess's clothesline attack connected with devastating force, lifting Sanji completely off his feet and sending him tumbling across the frozen ground. The chef's signature leg techniques, which had served him well against conventional opponents, seemed inadequate against someone who could shrug off kicks that would cripple normal men.
"Is that the best you can do?" Burgess taunted while flexing his massive arms. "I was expecting more from someone the newspapers call 'Black Leg.' Your reputation is seriously overrated!"
Sanji struggled to his feet, blood trickling from his mouth as he reassessed his tactical options. His martial arts training emphasized speed and precision over brute force, but this opponent possessed enough raw durability to absorb punishment that would fell lesser fighters.
"Côtelette!"
The cook's spinning kick connected with Burgess's ribs, but the wrestling champion simply absorbed the impact and countered with a devastating bear hug that threatened to crack Sanji's spine.
"Champion Pressure!"
The crushing embrace intensified beyond human tolerance, forcing strangled gasps from Sanji's throat as his vision began to darken. The sound of breaking bones echoed across the battlefield as his legs—his most prized weapons—buckled under impossible pressure.
High above the chaos, Laffitte's white wings carried him through the frigid air as he conducted aerial reconnaissance for his allies. The Devil Sheriff's transformation into his hybrid bird-human form granted him unparalleled battlefield awareness, allowing him to identify strategic targets and coordinate attacks with deadly efficiency.
"Found them," he called down to his companions while gesturing toward a sheltered cove where the Going Merry remained hidden. "The ship's doctor and their non-combatants are attempting to avoid the main battle."
Doc Q urged his sickly horse toward the indicated position, his cadaverous appearance belying the sophisticated medical knowledge that made him one of the most dangerous opponents the Straw Hats had ever faced. Unlike Chopper's healing-focused approach to medicine, the Blackbeard Pirates' doctor specialized in weaponizing biological processes against his enemies.
"Tony Tony Chopper," Doc Q wheezed as he approached the small reindeer's defensive position, "I've been looking forward to meeting you. A fellow medical practitioner, though our philosophical approaches differ significantly."
Chopper had transformed into his Heavy Point form, his two-meter frame radiating determination despite his obvious inexperience with serious combat. "I won't let you hurt my friends!" he declared with admirable courage. "A doctor's job is to preserve life, not destroy it!"
"How naive," Doc Q replied with a sickly smile. "Let me demonstrate the true potential of medical science."
The Shiku Shiku no Mi(Sick-Sick Fruit) power manifested as invisible pathogens that infiltrated Chopper's respiratory system with each breath. The first symptom was disorientation—a subtle shift in hormonal balance that fundamentally altered his physical development.
Within moments, the brave male reindeer had been transformed into a confused female doe, her fighting instincts compromised by biological changes she couldn't understand or control.
"What did you do to me?" Chopper asked in a higher-pitched voice, staring at her transformed body with growing alarm.
"A simple gender-reversal pathogen," Doc Q explained with academic interest. "But that's merely the beginning of my medical demonstration."
Additional diseases followed in rapid succession—weakness that sapped muscular strength, vertigo that disrupted balance and coordination, fever that clouded rational thought. Each condition was carefully calibrated to incapacitate rather than kill, reducing the future legendary doctor to a helpless patient within minutes.
Chopper collapsed in the snow, her transformed body unable to mount any meaningful resistance as the accumulated symptoms overwhelmed her system.
Van Augur's attention turned toward Usopp's position with the patient focus of a professional eliminating a potential threat. The Straw Hat sniper had taken cover behind a cluster of rocks, his slingshot ready but clearly outmatched by military-grade firearms.
"One shot," Van Augur murmured to himself while adjusting his scope for wind and distance. "That's all it takes to end this particular nuisance."
The bullet struck Usopp's shoulder with enough force to spin him completely around, his slingshot flying from nerveless fingers as he collapsed behind his inadequate cover. The injury wasn't immediately fatal, but it effectively eliminated him as a combat factor.
Nami and Princess Vivi, having witnessed the systematic destruction of their friend, found themselves at Van Augur's mercy as he approached their position with casual confidence.
"You ladies will be coming with me," the sniper announced while keeping his weapon trained on them. "My captain has specific plans for the princess, and the navigator might prove useful for future operations."
Neither woman possessed the combat skills necessary to resist an armed opponent, leaving them no choice but to comply with his demands. They were herded toward the main battlefield like prisoners, their presence destined to complicate an already desperate tactical situation.
The appearance of Princess Vivi on the battlefield triggered an immediate shift in Crocodile's tactical priorities. His battle with the Attack Titan had been proceeding satisfactorily—the giant's regenerative abilities were formidable, but sustainable attrition would eventually wear down any opponent lacking Haki-based attacks.
But the princess represented something far more valuable than mere combat victory. She was the key to his ultimate plans for Arabasta, the legitimate heir whose elimination would complete his political takeover of the desert kingdom.
"Desert Girasole!"
Crocodile's most devastating area-effect technique transformed the ground beneath the Attack Titan into an expanding vortex of quicksand. The supernatural suction pulled moisture from everything within its influence, creating a death trap that grew larger and more inescapable with each passing moment.
Eren found his titan form sinking steadily into the liquefied earth, each attempt to escape only accelerating his descent. The Attack Titan's inability to fly meant that conventional mobility was useless—he was trapped in an arena of Crocodile's making.
"Princess Vivi," the Shichibukai called out while approaching her position, his golden hook glinting with deadly promise. "How thoughtful of you to deliver yourself directly to me. This saves considerable time and effort."
The hook-hand closed around Vivi's throat with mechanical precision, lifting her from the ground as she gasped for air. Crocodile's sadistic nature emerged as he savored the princess's desperate struggles, choosing slow strangulation over the quick dehydration that his Devil Fruit powers could have provided.
"Two years," he murmured with vindictive satisfaction. "Two years you spent infiltrating my organization, gathering intelligence, playing at being a loyal agent. Did you really think your pathetic espionage efforts could threaten someone of my stature?"
Vivi's vision began to darken as oxygen deprivation took its toll. In what she assumed were her final moments, her thoughts turned to those she was leaving behind—her father King Cobra, waiting for news that would never come; the loyal retainers Pell and Chaka, who would blame themselves for failing to protect her; the Straw Hat Pirates, who had shown her friendship despite knowing her for such a brief time.
Most painfully, she thought of Igaram, whose death had been the direct result of her mission. If she died here, his sacrifice would be rendered meaningless—Arabasta would fall to Crocodile's machinations with no one left to expose his crimes.
"I'm sorry," she whispered through her constricted throat, tears streaming down her face as consciousness began to fade. "I failed everyone who was counting on me."
The intervention came without warning, accompanied by a voice that carried just enough mockery to transform the entire battlefield dynamic.
"My, my, Crocodile-kun. That's quite a scary scene you're creating here."
The laser beam struck with surgical precision, severing the tendons in Crocodile's wrist and forcing him to release his grip on Princess Vivi. She collapsed to the ground, gasping desperately for air while her vision slowly cleared.
Admiral Borsalino stood at the edge of the devastated coastline, his hands casually tucked into his pockets despite the obvious gravity of the situation. The yellow-striped suit remained immaculate despite the harsh conditions, and his expression maintained that characteristic blend of boredom and mild amusement that had become his trademark.
"Killing a princess of a World Government member nation would create quite the political incident," Kizaru observed with deliberately casual tone. "Even someone with your... flexible relationship with Marine should understand the implications."
Crocodile's eyes narrowed as he recognized the threat this new arrival represented. "Admiral Borsalino. I'm operating within my legal authority as a Shichibukai. These pirates attacked my forces first."
"Mm, is that so?" Kizaru replied while examining his fingernails with exaggerated interest. "How scary. Though I have to wonder why a Shichibukai would be collaborating with wanted criminals like the Blackbeard Pirates. That seems like the kind of detail that might complicate your legal justification."
The observation carried implicit threat that wasn't lost on anyone present. If Kizaru chose to report this unauthorized alliance to Marine Headquarters, Crocodile's position within the Seven Warlords system could be revoked immediately.
"Yasakani no Magatama!" (Jewel of Light)
Before Crocodile could formulate a response, Kizaru's body transformed into pure light that dispersed into hundreds of individual photons. Each particle reconstituted as a high-energy projectile that rained down across the battlefield with devastating precision.
The light-speed kick that followed caught Crocodile completely off-guard. Despite his Logia-type intangibility, the Admiral's Armament Haki-enhanced attack connected with crushing force, launching the Shichibukai across the devastated landscape like a human cannonball.
The trajectory of Kizaru's kick proved remarkably convenient—Crocodile's flight path intersected directly with Blackbeard's position, creating a collision that disrupted the Yami Yami no Mi user's concentration and allowed Luffy to escape the gravitational pull that had been dragging him into melee range.
"Oops," Kizaru said with obviously fake innocence, "I kicked a little too hard there. How clumsy of me."
The Admiral's intervention continued with methodical efficiency that belied his lazy demeanor. Laser beams erupted from his fingertips with pinpoint accuracy, each shot carefully calculated to incapacitate rather than kill.
Mr. 1's steel body proved inadequate against light-speed attacks enhanced with Haki. The laser that pierced his torso left him collapsed in the snow, blood pooling beneath his motionless form.
Van Augur's sniper rifle disintegrated under focused bombardment, followed immediately by a second beam that punched through his chest cavity. The marksman who had dominated the battlefield through superior range found himself utterly outclassed by an opponent who could attack at literal light speed.
Burgess attempted to flee when he realized how completely the tactical situation had shifted, but his impressive physical conditioning proved useless against an enemy who could move at velocities beyond human comprehension. Two precisely placed laser strikes dropped the wrestling champion face-first into the bloody snow.
Within moments of his arrival, Admiral Kizaru had single-handedly neutralized every major threat on the battlefield. His casual demonstration of overwhelming power served as a stark reminder of the vast gulf that separated Admiral-level combatants from even the most dangerous pirates.
"Well now," he observed while surveying the devastation with mild interest, "this turned out to be quite the eventful day. I was just supposed to pick up a reindeer for recruitment purposes, but it seems I've stumbled into quite the international incident."
His gaze swept across the scattered forms of defeated enemies and wounded Straw Hat Pirates with equal detachment. "Everyone's looking quite scary and dangerous. I suppose I'll have to file a very detailed report about all these... unfortunate coincidences."
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