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Arthur's one and only target had always been Whitebeard at his peak.
Roger's surrender signaled the dawn of a new era—his execution, was the true beginning. The news would mark the end of an age, transforming living legends into relics of a bygone time.
To miss the chance to face the strongest man in the world in a life-or-death battle before that era ended—that would be Arthur's only regret.
"Marco, if you won't leave, then you'll stay here—forever!" Arthur grinned cruelly, amplifying the lightning in his hand.
The purple electricity intensified, coalescing into a sphere of pure energy that he launched into the sky.
Rumble!
The clouds roiled, the clear sky instantly darkening, a storm cloud forming directly above Marco.
The lightning gathered, then struck—a torrential downpour of electricity.
Marco, his Observation Haki pushed to its absolute limit, weaved through the sky, dodging bolt after bolt. But the barrage was relentless, a curtain of lightning he couldn't completely avoid. He was struck multiple times.
Smoke rose from his body. Though unharmed, he winced, the pain searing.
"Go back to the sea!" Arthur's voice boomed from Alasolan.
He slammed his hand down, the falling lightning bolts converging into a massive purple pillar that struck Marco, sending him crashing into the sea.
——
On the Moby Dick, Whitebeard watched the scene unfold, his expression impassive. He wasn't surprised. He turned to Namur, the silent shark fish-man. "Go get Marco."
"Yes, Pops!"
Namur leaped from the deck, plunging into the sea to retrieve the weakened Marco.
Arthur, having dealt with the scout, didn't press his advantage.
Facing Whitebeard required all his focus, every ounce of his stamina. He had to be at his absolute peak.
The Moby Dick drew closer, other ships—belonging to the New World's most powerful pirates—already in position, vying for the best view.
The calm sea was now a bustling hub of activity, the air thick with anticipation.
But Arthur, his gaze fixed on the towering figure on the Moby Dick's deck, was oblivious to the commotion.
———
"A new Emperor challenges a legend. Will he seize the throne or fall into obscurity? The ultimate showdown—a battle that will shape the future of the world—is about to begin..."
Where there was big news, there was Big News Morgans, his commentary echoing the thoughts of the onlookers.
The world held its breath, waiting.
———
From a distance.
The Queen Mama Chanter appeared, Big Mom herself on board, having left Whole Cake Island to witness the battle.
———
In the east, a small, unassuming ship—onboard, Silvers Rayleigh, Scopper Gaban, and Shakky, sipping their sake, observed the scene silently.
———
In the west, a ship bearing Kaido's Jolly Roger appeared, his crew on board, though he himself was absent, delayed by some unknown business.
———
And from the direction of Fish-Man Island, a small, blood-red ship approached, its lone passenger a man in a crimson coat, his silver hair a stark contrast to his dark attire, a cane clutched in his hand, a blue rose pinned to his lapel.
Red the Aloof—Patrick Redfield had even left his castle on the Red Line to witness this battle.
Arthur's challenge to Whitebeard had captured the world's attention, shattering the year-long peace, the ripples of their impending clash spreading like a tidal wave across the Grand Line.
"Mamamama! That foolish brat...Let Whitebeard sink him to the bottom of the sea. He has no idea what he's up against!" Big Mom, stuffing her face with sweets, sneered.
"Arthur... It's too soon to challenge Whitebeard. But... he's grown stronger since we last saw him," Rayleigh commented, taking a sip of his sake.
"Youth is a wonderful thing," Gaban sighed.
Arthur was only eighteen. He still had so much room to grow. In their minds, he needed another decade, at least, before he could truly challenge Whitebeard.
In the north, Garp, Sengoku, and Kuzan, aboard a single warship, waited.
"So many monsters here. Our plan to capture Arthur is not going to work," Sengoku frowned, his face grim.
"Bwahahaha! Let's just watch the show, Sengoku! Worrying is pointless!" Garp laughed, his usual carefree demeanor returning.
And they weren't the only ones watching.
All across the world, people had found ways to tap into the visual Den Den Mushi network, broadcasting the battle live.
The world watched, their attention captivated.
The atmosphere was tense, the presence of so many powerful figures a suffocating pressure. Weaker individuals struggled to breathe, their faces flushed, but they wouldn't leave.
To witness this event—was worth any risk.
The battle was about to begin...
———
Arthur stood on the beach, his eyes closed, his breathing slow, steady, his mind focused, oblivious to the thousands of eyes fixed on him.
His transformed lightning gave him immense confidence.
But he was facing Whitebeard.
Those who didn't understand the weight of that name, the sheer power it represented—they couldn't comprehend the danger.
He couldn't afford to make a single mistake.
He reviewed his every move, his every ability, his battle lust rising, his blood beginning to burn.
He craved that thrill, that feeling of being on the edge of life and death, to face this battle at his absolute peak.
"I can't wait any longer..." he whispered, his eyes still closed.
A year ago, Roger had reached the pinnacle of the pirate world, and the sea had fallen silent.
A year later—Arthur's challenge to Whitebeard had shattered that silence.
The world's attention was now fixed on them.
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Marine Headquarters, Marineford.
On the grand plaza, a tall, slender woman with long, golden hair watched the massive screen, her heart filled with a mixture of fear and pride.
"Arthur... be safe."
——
Impel Down.
Shiryu, polishing his Nodachi, his usual stoicism replaced by a flicker of excitement.
"Captain Arthur...The man I follow...He won't be defeated so easily."
——
Alasolan Island.
Arthur's eyes snapped open, his gaze meeting Whitebeard's from two kilometers away.
Their gazes clashed across the sea...
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