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BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
The shockwave from their clash obliterated everything in its path, the shattered remnants of Alasolan sinking beneath the waves.
The destructive power of such a battle was unimaginable.
When Kuzan and Akainu had fought for the position of Fleet Admiral, their battle had permanently altered the climate of Punk Hazard, leaving one half a frozen wasteland, the other a blazing inferno.
And that was a clash between two fighters whose destructive capabilities, while formidable, weren't even considered top-tier.
Arthur, every time he fought, left a trail of destruction in his wake. And Whitebeard, with his world-shattering power—was on a completely different level.
If they continued their clash, the very island structure beneath their feet would be annihilated.
The destructive power of the Tremor-Tremor Fruit was terrifying. A single, full-powered punch from Whitebeard could shatter any island but the largest.
And Arthur's Raigo was equally devastating.
When two such powers clashed, without restraint—the result was pure, unadulterated destruction.
——
The sky, fractured by Whitebeard's quake, shimmered like shattered glass. The onlookers initial shock having faded into a numb awe, waited, their emotions was a jumbled mess... their only desire to see the outcome.
Would the rising star topple the legend?
Or would the Old Legend stand firm?
The two figures, like gods of myth, their every move shaking the sky—their every blow a force of nature, continued their brutal dance.
HUMMMMMMMMMMMMM...
Whitebeard's expression remained disdainful, his massive frame radiating power, his Haki-clad fist a beacon of pure, destructive energy, its every movement drawing Arthur's attention, commanding his respect.
The sheer pressure of his attack, even from a distance was suffocating.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Arthur, refusing to retreat, met the attack head-on, his lightning-wreathed fist a blur of motion.
The island trembled, the ground beneath them cracking, as Arthur, unable to withstand the full force of Whitebeard's attack, was sent flying backwards, his body a cannonball, crashing into a pile of rubble.
"Huff…huff…"
Whitebeard's massive chest heaved, the force of his own attack, the recoil—it had taken its toll. Even he, a man of iron, needed a moment to recover.
"Is it over?"
"Did Whitebeard win?"
The onlookers stared, their eyes wide, afraid to blink, to miss the final, decisive moment.
On a nearby Marine warship, Garp scratched his head, confused. "Why didn't Arthur use that weird defensive power of his? The one that neutralized my attacks?"
He'd been on the offensive the entire time, trading blows with Whitebeard, never once defending.
——
Cough, cough…
Arthur, pulling himself from the rubble, wiped the blood from his lips, his internal organs rattled.
The force of Whitebeard's quake—he couldn't block it.
But...
He dusted himself off, his gaze fixed on the towering figure of Whitebeard, a manic grin spreading across his face.
"Whitebeard... After this fight, I might be crippled, but you... you're going to die. The Tremor-Tremor Fruit, it drains your stamina, doesn't it? You're almost at your limit."
He advanced, his eyes blazing with a reckless abandon, his body crackling with lightning.
———
"Damn! That kid's lost it!" Rayleigh frowned, his voice laced with concern. Arthur was pushing himself too far, risking everything.
The sea was filled with onlookers—pirates, Marines, all waiting, like vultures, to pick off the weakened victor.
Garp and Sengoku were among them, their intentions clear.
If Arthur and Whitebeard both fell—the New World would erupt in chaos.
"Gurararara! Everyone gets tired, brat. But you're a hundred years too early to defeat me!" Whitebeard roared, his voice booming across the waves, his arrogance undiminished.
"Who do you think I am?! I am—WHITEBEARD!"
"I'll take your head…" Arthur's grin widened, his body erupting in a blaze of lightning.
"Seaquake!"
Whitebeard, his feet planted firmly on the ground, his arms crossed, then slammed his fists to his sides.
Crack!
The air around him shattered, the force of the impact rippling through the sea.
SPLASH!
The ocean roared, a massive, hundred-meter-tall wave rising from the depths, threatening to engulf the entire island.
——
The sea churned, the ships on the horizon tossed about like toys. The pirate ships closest to the island were swallowed by the massive wave.
"Pops won't lose!"
"He's the Strongest Man in the World!"
On the Moby Dick, Whitebeard's sons watched, their voices filled with a mixture of fear and unwavering faith.
———
Marine Headquarters.
"Arthur... Don't die..." Jessica, dressed in her Marine uniform, watched the battle on the massive screen in the plaza, her fists clenched, her knuckles white, her face pale with worry.
———
West Blue.
Capone Bege, smoking a cigar, his iron ball prosthetic clutched in his hand, watched the broadcast.
"He can't die yet..."
——
"This can't continue. He's going to get himself killed." Rayleigh's expression was grim.
He knew what was at stake.
If Arthur and Whitebeard continued their battle, the resulting chaos would be devastating.
Arthur, with no territory, no crew—his death would be a minor footnote in the grand scheme of things. It would only make some pirates more famous, or give the Marines one less headache.
But if Whitebeard fell... the world would descend into chaos.
Roger's plan, his final act to surrender to the Marines, to ignite a new era would all be for nothing.
Without Whitebeard, there would be no one left to challenge the World Government. The Marines would be free to hunt down every last pirate, their power unchecked.
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