Chapter 222: A Marine Admiral Gets Captured!
Meteor Volcano!
Akainu's arms were covered in blazing magma, both fists transformed into molten rock as he punched repeatedly toward the sky.
Soon, a rain of magma fists fell like a meteor shower.
Mixed in were countless golden light bullets—an apocalyptic barrage, a disaster of doomsday proportions.
"So terrifying!"
"It's a Marine Admiral! He's actually fighting the Whitebeard Pirates…"
"Get onto Death Island quick, before we get caught in the crossfire. Damn Marines—are they trying to kill everyone?!"
The reason Logia-type Devil Fruits were called the strongest was because of their overwhelming area-of-effect damage—
natural disasters incarnate.
"Damn!"
"Despicable Marines…"
Onboard the Moby Dick, the division commanders who were ready to unleash their power were suddenly halted by the rain of magma fists and beams of light.
Though they were powerful—capable of holding their own against admirals—
these scattered wide-range attacks didn't pose much threat to them directly.
However,
if they engaged freely, their less experienced crewmates would suffer heavy casualties—
and even the Moby Dick could be sunk.
"How can you call that despicable?"
"After all, you're Whitebeard—the strongest man in the world. Using a few tricks is only reasonable for the Marines."
Kizaru puckered his lips, wearing an irritating smirk, completely ignoring the pirates' insults.
Aokiji frowned. "Borsalino, don't provoke him for no reason."
Taunting Whitebeard was hardly wise.
"Gurararara…"
Whitebeard threw his head back and laughed. "Area attacks?"
His arms began to change—crimson, armor-like scales formed, his eyes turned blood red, and a savage, blood-soaked aura spread from his body.
A visible crimson mist rolled out across the deck.
Every crewmember covered in the mist felt their bodies grow light—
as if wrapped in a protective invisible membrane.
[Crimson Protection] and [Crimson Speed]!
Two aura-type skills from the Crimson Troll bloodline that drastically boosted allied defense and movement speed.
"What the hell…?"
Akainu's expression darkened. Something felt off, and he quickly ramped up his assault.
Great Eruption!
A whole magma arm burst forth like a volcanic explosion, hurling itself toward the Moby Dick.
It was a calculated strike—timed perfectly while the crew was distracted by falling magma.
The target? Namur—the fish-man captain whose aquatic skin was especially vulnerable to heat, especially on land.
Buzz—
Just as everyone watched in panic,
a red halo manifested, blocking the incoming lava strike. Namur remained completely unharmed.
"Dad!"
The crew erupted in cheers.
Whitebeard's cold gaze fixed on Akainu, then he turned and roared,
"This is the power of the Reincarnation Game!"
"From this moment forward, the Whitebeard Pirates live and die together!"
"As long as I still draw breath—not a single one of my sons will die!"
"Sons, unleash hell!"
"RAHHHH!"
A thunderous war cry erupted from the entire crew.
Like the mindless trolls controlled by the Crimson Troll,
they charged forward without hesitation.
But this wasn't stupidity.
It was trust—unquestioning loyalty to the man who had raised and protected them.
"To think mere pirate trash could block my Great Eruption?!"
Akainu couldn't believe it.
He stared at the fired-up Whitebeard Pirates—and the fish-man captain who stood unharmed.
"Is this one of Whitebeard's Game abilities—some kind of protection?"
On the Marine warship, Vice Admiral Tsuru's voice rang out.
"If he's protecting his crew, that must mean he's spreading his power thin. Target Whitebeard directly!"
Some Devil Fruits had similar effects—sharing power with allies, but weakening the user.
Hearing this,
Kizaru brought both hands down to his waist, forming the shape of a circular mirror.
A golden beam shot out instantly—appearing above the Moby Dick in a flash.
Ama-no-Murakumo Sword!
The glowing short blade slashed toward Whitebeard's head.
"Borsalino, you little punk… Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Whitebeard narrowed his eyes,
swung Murakumogiri, and clashed with the light sword. After a brief collision, the golden blade shattered into fragments of light.
Kizaru, still holding the sword, was split cleanly in two at the waist.
"That's insane…"
Sweat beaded at Kizaru's temple.
Vice Admiral Tsuru had misjudged—Whitebeard wasn't weakened.
In fact, he seemed stronger than ever.
Could it be…?
Kizaru's eyes darted toward the crimson mist blanketing the battlefield.
"These mists… they boost the crew, and return power to Whitebeard instantly?"
"How clever, Borsalino."
"Though you're older than me, I'm an old man too. Can you not call me 'punk'?"
Realizing something was wrong,
Kizaru's yellow-striped suit turned into photons as he tried to flee the Moby Dick.
Becoming a Marine Admiral wasn't just about a powerful fruit—
it also required top-tier battle instincts.
With just one touch,
he could tell the crimson mist made the Whitebeard Pirates like a sealed egg—unbreakable from the outside.
What a nasty ability from the Game.
"Don't think you can run, Borsalino!"
Seeing Kizaru trying to escape as light,
Whitebeard raised both arms and slammed them down into the air—
Crimson Blood Arms!
This was the first innate ability Whitebeard awakened after acquiring the Crimson Troll bloodline.
It didn't just generate blood-tinged weapons for allies—
it could also use their power to forge a single, massive Crimson weapon.
The more allies, the stronger the weapon.
And now—
Whitebeard's gesture summoned an enormous crimson iron cage,
which crashed down over the deck—trapping Kizaru completely.
The cage was laced with Armament Haki,
nullifying his Logia intangibility.
"This is… bad."
Kizaru, who always appeared laid-back, was now visibly panicked.
He had never imagined being captured.
Facing Whitebeard alone wasn't reckless—he had confidence in the Light-Light Fruit.
So long as it wasn't a trap, no one could keep up with his speed.
But now he was imprisoned in a crimson cage.
"Borsalino, the Reincarnation Game has introduced powers far beyond Devil Fruits.
If you still refuse to adapt, then getting caught is only natural."
Whitebeard's lips curled into a smile.
Had the Navy sent only top-tier power for a direct clash,
the battle might've been long and brutal.
But instead,
they'd made the "smart" move—deploying masses of soldiers for team tactics,
and relying on area bombardments over direct confrontation.
That kind of army-scale warfare?
Was the perfect battlefield for the Crimson Troll.
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 30 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/Franklin1