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Arthur spent the night in the bar, adjusting his body and mind, preparing for the coming battle.
The pirates on Alasolan, having overheard his conversation with Whitebeard, had fled, scattering in a panic, their ships disappearing over the horizon.
They knew what was coming. Alasolan was about to become a battlefield—a graveyard.
News of the impending clash spread like wildfire, reaching the Marines, other pirate crews—even Roger, who was honeymooning in the South Blue.
Anyone within striking distance of Alasolan was heading there now, eager to witness the showdown.
A year of relative peace on the Grand Line was about to be shattered.
Arthur, the first of the new generation to challenge a legend, the only one with the guts to do it—was about to face the Strongest Man in the World.
Win or lose, everyone wanted to be there, to witness history in the making.
——
The sun rose, its golden rays illuminating the sea.
Arthur, his body and mind honed to a razor's edge, his battle lust barely contained, was ready.
He opened his eyes, the dim bar illuminated by the faint purple glow emanating from his irises. He stood and walked towards the beach.
His Haki scanned the island deserted. He was alone.
But the sea... The sea was filled with ships, hundreds of them, surrounding the island.
Whitebeard's fleet—twenty allied crews, led by the Moby Dick had arrived.
And beyond them, countless other ships, pirates and Marines alike, all here to watch the show.
Arthur stood on the beach, a smile playing on his lips as he gazed at the Moby Dick, dozens of miles away, a small speck on the horizon.
——
"Wooooo!"
A warning horn blared from the lead ship of Whitebeard's fleet.
The lookout, Atmos, captain of the Water Buffalo Pirates, lowered his binoculars, activating a Den Den Mushi.
Atmos was a giant of a man, his frame rivaling Jozu's, his body clad in sleeveless, grey-gold armor, a horned helmet on his head, his beard like a lion's mane, his long black hair cascading down to his waist, two massive, walrus-like tusks protruding from his mouth.
The Whitebeard Pirates' Jolly Roger was tattooed on both of his arms.
"Pops, the Thunder God is on the beach. He didn't run."
"Gurararara! That lightning brat got guts." Whitebeard, his voice booming across the deck, stood from his massive throne, his gaze fixed on the distant island, as if he could see Arthur standing on the beach.
"Full speed ahead! Take his head avenge Squard!"
"TAKE HIS HEAD! AVENGE SQUARD!" The commanders on the Moby Dick roared in unison, their voices echoing across the waves.
Thunder God Arthur—hailed as one of the strongest after the Four Emperors, the man who'd faced Big Mom on Whole Cake Island, he wouldn't back down from a fight.
His pride wouldn't allow it.
If he fled now... his reputation would be shattered. He'd be a laughingstock.
Reputation... it was a strange thing...
It inspired fear, respect, admiration, but it also constrained you, forcing you to live up to the image you'd created.
"He's really going to face the entire Whitebeard Pirates alone??" Marco, his eyes half-closed, his expression unreadable, asked, his voice laced with a hint of disbelief.
Vista and Namur, having witnessed Arthur's power firsthand, had been training relentlessly since their encounter with him a year and a half ago.
Marco, his curiosity piqued, was eager to see Arthur for himself.
And with his Mythical Zoan Phoenix fruit, his regenerative abilities—he was the perfect scout. Unless he was killed instantly, he could recover from any injury.
"Gurararara! Be careful, son," Whitebeard chuckled.
He wouldn't stoop to scouting his opponent himself. His name—Whitebeard was enough.
But he wouldn't deny his sons the opportunity to prove themselves.
"Don't worry, Pops. I'll be back soon."
Marco nodded, his body erupting in a blaze of blue flames, transforming into a phoenix as he soared into the sky, heading towards Alasolan.
——
"A bird... Marco?" Arthur's Haki detected the approaching phoenix, a smirk playing on his lips.
The bird's flames, they were cold, without heat. It had to be Marco.
"Entering my attack range alone? A welcoming gift for Whitebeard..."
Arthur raised his hand, a bolt of purple lightning shooting into the sky, striking the storm clouds above.
The clouds roiled, a chain reaction of electrical energy erupting, a massive bolt of lightning striking Marco.
He plummeted towards the sea, his body convulsing from the electric shock.
The attack had been too sudden, too fast. Even his Observation Haki hadn't been able to react in time.
Hiss!
Marco, his body numb, the searing pain of the lightning still lingering, righted himself, his regenerative abilities kicking in, healing the burns.
"That was Arthur's lightning..." He stared at the distant island, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Others could manipulate lightning, but not with this kind of power, this kind of range.
Atmos had estimated their distance from the island at thirty nautical miles... nearly sixty kilometers. To launch an attack from that distance, who else on the Grand Line could do such a thing?
"Seabury D. Arthur..." Marco's resolve hardened. He wouldn't retreat. He wouldn't disappoint his father.
He wouldn't tarnish Whitebeard's name.
——
On Alasolan.
Arthur's smile was cruel, his gaze fixed on the approaching ships.
The sea, for dozens of miles in every direction, was filled with pirate ships, their crews a motley assortment of powerful fighters.
But he didn't care.
His only target was Whitebeard.
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