Among them, Admiral Kizaru's Glint-Glint Fruit gave him an overwhelming speed advantage.
If not for the genuine injuries he'd already sustained, not even Whitebeard would have been able to keep up with him, let alone corner him.
But that, too, was part of the plan.
This entire confrontation had been meticulously crafted by Fleet Admiral Sengoku after receiving Kizaru's initial report from Sabaody.
The Five Elder Stars had applied an immense pressure, demanding that he obtain Whitebeard's blood by any means necessary.
Faced with such an order from the highest authority in the world, Sengoku resolved to execute a strategy that went against his very nature.
It meant abandoning so-called "warrior's pride," but in the long, brutal war against pirates, morality and principles often had to take a backseat.
As long as it effectively eliminated the enemy and maintained world peace, any means were acceptable.
And so, Kizaru's desperate flight, the taunts and the chase had all been a grand piece of theater, designed to lure the Emperor into a perfect trap.
Soon, the final act began.
Kizaru, staggering from a blow, deliberately coughed, spitting a dramatic mouthful of blood onto the plaza floor.
The sight instantly drew Whitebeard's attention.
Seeing the Admiral injured and bleeding again, Whitebeard instinctively moved to collect the sample—Jozu's intel, fed to him by Ron, was clear: Kizaru's reserves are depleted.
But this was exactly what Kizaru wanted.
This was the bait.
To collect the blood, Whitebeard had to drop his intangible lightning form and become solid.
The moment he did, the already-prepared Aokiji struck.
A bone-chilling aura erupted from his hands, spreading like an arctic gale and enveloping the entire area in a deep frost.
This power didn't just freeze the air; it targeted Whitebeard himself.
A thick layer of ice shot across the ground and up his legs, completely encasing them in a solid, unyielding prison.
Now immobilized, Whitebeard was left wide open.
"Newgate, there's no escape this time," Aokiji said coldly, his voice dripping with frost.
Garp grinned with a savage and triumphant look on his face.
"Come quietly to Impel Down! We've already prepared a special cell just for you."
At the same time, he clenched his fists tightly and his knuckles began to glow with a dazzling red light, radiating a heat so intense it was like standing next to a furnace.
With a furious roar, Garp charged forward and threw a punch with all his might.
Amidst a deafening explosion of force, Whitebeard had no choice but to endure the fatal blow head-on as he was unable to move.
The tremendous impact sent a sharp, agonizing pain through his chest.
A blood surged up his throat and he finally spat out a mouthful of his own precious blood.
Seeing this, Sengoku sprang into action.
He strode over to where the blood had spattered and pulled a small, reinforced vial from his pocket, carefully collecting the sample.
Mission accomplished.
Once it was secured, he raised his right hand, channeling all his strength to unleash another powerful shockwave that struck the already severely wounded Whitebeard with crushing force, sending him staggering back.
"Newgate, to be brought down by all four of us at once—you should be proud!" Sengoku declared, his voice booming with authority.
Yet, despite the grievous injuries, despite being trapped and beaten, Whitebeard refused to surrender.
Through sheer, indomitable willpower, he forcibly suppressed the churning blood and roiling energy within him, swallowing back the blood he was about to cough up.
He threw his head back and let out a laugh.
"Gurararara… this is fun!"
At the same time, with a sudden, monstrous exertion of force, the seemingly indestructible ice encasing his legs shattered like fragile glass.
As the shards exploded outward, an unprecedented surge of power erupted from him—pure, untamed Conqueror's Haki.
Brilliant, terrifying lightning crackled around his body, streaks of crimson and black intertwining like a divine punishment, striking the earth around him relentlessly.
This power not only stunned everyone present but also plunged the entire sky over Marineford into a deep, stormy darkness, as if the heavens themselves trembled.
The Marines standing below paled, their legs trembling uncontrollably as they witnessed the apocalyptic scene unfolding before them.
Just as they thought this was only the beginning, something even more astonishing happened.
As Whitebeard's Conqueror's Haki swept across the battlefield like a tidal wave of pure will, the soldiers who had been standing rigidly at attention collapsed one after another.
Their eyes rolled back into their heads as they lost consciousness, their bodies slumping limply to the side.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
The relentless sound of thousands of bodies hitting the plaza echoed eerily through the air.
Even the usually disciplined and battle-hardened Vice Admirals felt an unprecedented pressure crushing their minds.
Some clutched their heads as if their skulls were about to split open; others, less resilient, were knocked unconscious where they stood.
The battlefield descended into chaos and terror.
Whitebeard's cold gaze swept over them, his voice laced with a deep, rumbling mockery.
"You haven't changed at all, Sengoku. Still so focused on your clever little plans."
In response, Sengoku merely snorted with a stony expression.
He knew that in this unpredictable world, the slightest emotional slip could be exploited.
"There's no need for niceties when dealing with pirates," Sengoku said calmly, his voice a declaration to everyone present.
"The struggle between justice and evil has always been direct and brutal. There is no room for pretense."
Hearing this, Whitebeard suddenly burst into laughter again, his booming voice shaking the very air like thunder.
"Gurararara! Well said!"
As his laughter echoed, an even more overwhelming surge of Conqueror's Haki erupted from him, spreading unchecked across the battlefield.
The sheer force made the air feel heavy and thick, and simultaneously, countless bolts of lightning began gathering in the dark clouds above Marineford, flickering brilliantly as if the heavens themselves were roaring in fury.
The continuous rumble sounded like the deepest wrath of the world, instilling an instinctive, primal fear in all who heard it.
Suddenly, massive bolts of lightning struck down from the sky, instantly carving out charred, smoking craters in the plaza.
The scent of ozone and burning filled the air.
This sight sent chills down the spines of the remaining Vice Admirals.
What in the world was he planning?
Could it be that this legendary ruler of the seas truly intended to unleash an all-out assault, without a shred of restraint?