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The era was in turmoil.
Those who clung to the past would be swept away by the changing tides.
Arthur, his gaze fixed on the horizon, would not be one of them. He would never stop moving forward. Only death could stop him now.
The world watched, captivated by the battle between Arthur and Whitebeard.
Whitebeard was a legend, his strength undeniable.
But Arthur… Big News Morgans had hailed him as one of the strongest after the Four Emperors, a rival to Big Mom and Kaido.
Many had scoffed at the claim, dismissed it as hyperbole.
But now, no one doubted it.
The battle, broadcast to every corner of the world, had showcased Arthur's power—his strength, his arrogance, his unwavering defiance.
Arthur inspired awe and fear.
———
"Lightning brat, If that's all you've got, this little warm-up is over." Whitebeard's voice was calm, his gaze dismissive. He tossed his bisento aside, as if it were a mere trifle.
The onlookers, their hearts pounding, their faces pale, couldn't believe their ears.
A warm-up?
What kind of monster was this?
The sheer disparity in power was terrifying.
How many, after witnessing this, would lose the courage to even set sail?
The name "Whitebeard" would forever be etched in their minds, a symbol of absolute, insurmountable power.
"The battle has just begun, old man!" Arthur roared, his body erupting in a blaze of lightning, tendrils of electricity snaking outwards, the air crackling with his power. He was a force of nature, his aura swallowing the very sky.
"Rumble!"
A bolt of lightning struck him, its power absorbed into his being. His every pore, every strand of hair, his very skin, it all crackled with electrical energy.
"Hahahaha! The warm-up is over. Now, witness my ultimate form!"
"Five Hundred Million Volts — Thunder Emperor!!!"
Arthur eyes, no longer human, became orbs of pure, purple light, radiating an otherworldly power, the gaze of a god, a king, looking down on his subjects.
This was his ultimate form—Thunder Emperor.
Unlike his Thunder God form, which was a passive elementalization, a surge of raw power—this was different.
This was control!
The lightning itself bowed to his will. He could manipulate his size, his form, with a single thought.
His hair, a wild mane of crackling lightning, whipped around his face as he lunged forward, the compressed electrical energy in his fist exploding outwards.
"Gurararara! Now this is more like it. Your previous attacks… they were like a child's tantrum."
Whitebeard laughed, his greatcoat flapping in the wind, his dismissive demeanor replaced by a look of genuine excitement.
"Great Earthquake!"
BOOM! CRACK!
Their fists collided, the force of the impact shattering the very air around them, spiderweb cracks appearing in the sky itself, as if it were glass. The shockwave ripped through the island, the sea itself parting under the force of their fight.
Arthur didn't retreat.
To face the strongest man in the world head-on—it was an exhilarating, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
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"That damn kid… is he crazy?" Garp's rice cracker fell from his hand.
"He's challenging Whitebeard to a fistfight! He's insane!" Rayleigh, his usual calm demeanor gone, stared, his mouth agape.
"Mamamama! Let him die! One less rival to worry about!" Big Mom cackled, her voice filled with a manic glee.
The world watched, some with worry, some with schadenfreude, some with jealousy, some with hatred...
BUT!
All of them awestruck. They stared, afraid to blink, to miss a single moment of the epic fight.
Jessica, her heart pounding, worried for Arthur. Shiryu, his gaze steady, had faith in his captain.
———
West Blue.
Capone Bege, smoking a cigar, his iron ball prosthetic clutched in his hand, watched the broadcast, his grip tightening.
He'd conquer the West Blue's underworld—then he'd head to the New World, ally with other pirates, and kill Arthur, avenging his earlier humiliation.
——
Whitebeard's punch shattered the sky, the spiderweb cracks spreading, enveloping the entire island.
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the air.
Arthur, though at a disadvantage, held his ground, his Haki-infused lightning fist meeting Whitebeard's monstrous attack, the shockwave from their clash leveling the surrounding landscape.
Whitebeard's nature, his unwavering confidence, his indomitable spirit—it wouldn't allow him to back down.
And Arthur, facing such a man—he wouldn't retreat either.
He'd meet him head-on, blow for blow. To retreat now, would break his spirit, extinguish the fire in his soul.
Their battle was a clash of monsters, each blow shaking the sky, the sea itself churning, tsunamis rising, the wind howling.
Such a fight was a sight rarely seen, it would be whispered about for centuries.
"Your lightning… Is useless against me!" Whitebeard roared, another punch slamming into Arthur's shoulder, the force of it cracking his bones.
Arthur was sent flying backwards, but a cruel smile played on his lips. He didn't care about the pain.
On the Grand Line, injuries were a part of life. To survive... that was a victory in itself.
He ignored the blood spraying from his shoulder, unleashing a final, desperate attack—a concentrated blast of purple lightning, a vibrating blade of pure energy, slicing into Whitebeard's chest.
He crashed into the ground, sliding hundreds of yards before finally coming to a stop.
He pulled himself from the rubble, his left shoulder, though injured, already healing, the lightning within him repairing the damage, a testament to his enhanced electrotherapy.
Hundreds of yards away, Whitebeard stood motionless, a long, deep gash on his chest, blood flowing freely, his gaze fixed on Arthur, his expression unreadable.
They were both injured.
Arthur, though at a disadvantage, possessed a regenerative ability far surpassing Whitebeard's.
He was already healing, his strength returning.
"Still alive, old man? Did my little love tap hurt?" Arthur stretched, his voice laced with a cold amusement.
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