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The air grew thick and heavy, the chaotic noise of the battlefield seeming to curdle around the two figures. On one side stood Marshall D. Teach, a man defined by his boundless avarice and opportunistic treachery, a grin of pure malice plastered on his face. On the other stood Ace, his body a crucible of crimson flame, his face a mask of such profound hatred that it seemed to score lines in the very air between them.
"Teach..." The name was not a shout, but a low, guttural growl that promised murder.
Blackbeard's grin only widened. He spread his arms, a mocking gesture of welcome. "Zehahahaha! That's the face I remember! The face of a fool who chased me halfway across the Grand Line, all for a dead man! Thatch would be so disappointed in you, Ace."
The mention of Thatch's name was the spark. The carefully constructed dam of control within Ace—the fusion of his own fiery temper with Kenji's logical restraint—did not just break. It was obliterated.
He didn't scream. He didn't move. He simply looked at Teach, and his will erupted.
It was not a wave of pressure. It was an apocalypse.
The sky above Marineford, already choked with smoke and the smell of blood, turned a dark, bruised purple. The ground trembled, not from a quake, but from a force far more primal. Red-black lightning, with no thunder to accompany it, began to arc between the steel walls of the encirclement, crackling with a terrifying, silent energy. Every flame on the battlefield, including Marco's wings and Ace's own crimson aura, flickered violently as if in a gale. The very atmosphere became a physical weight, a suffocating blanket of pure, undisputed dominance.
This was not the Haki of a king. This was the Haki of a Emperor, of a god descending to pass judgment. It was the unleashed, unfiltered will of a man who had died, been reborn, and had his entire world threatened for a second time, and he was utterly, incandescently done with it.
The effect on the battlefield was instantaneous and absolute.
The thousands of Marine soldiers still conscious, from the foot soldiers to the captains, didn't even have time to register the pressure. Their eyes rolled back into their heads, white foam frothed on their lips, and they collapsed in a single, silent wave. The plaza, already littered with bodies, became a carpet of the unconscious, an entire army felled without a single shot fired.
The Vice Admirals, the hardened veterans of the New World, fared little better. Momonga, Onigumo, Strawberry—all of them let out strangled gasps as their legs gave out from under them. They crashed to their knees, their hands planted on the ground to support their own weight, sweat pouring down their faces. They were not unconscious, but they were utterly incapacitated, pinned down by a willpower so immense it felt like the sea itself was pressing down upon them.
The top tiers felt it as a physical blow. Sengoku, in his great golden Buddha form, stumbled back a step, his eyes wide with disbelief. This pressure... it dwarfed the boy in the straw hat. It was even heavier, more absolute, than what he had felt from Roger in his prime. A cold dread, a feeling he had not known in decades, seeped into his strategic mind.
Garp, standing beside the execution platform, felt his heart break and swell with a terrible, agonizing pride. He saw his rival, his son, and his grandson all in that single, terrifying display—the indomitable will of the D., amplified to a level that bordered on the monstrous.
On the bay, Kizaru's lazy smile vanished completely, replaced by a thin, tight line. Aokiji's languid posture stiffened, his eyes sharp and serious. And somewhere in the ruins, Akainu, climbing from the rubble Whitebeard had buried him in, stopped dead, feeling the suffocating pressure and letting out a low growl of pure, undiluted hatred.
But the full, focused force of this apocalyptic will had only one target.
Marshall D. Teach.
The greasy, arrogant grin was wiped from Blackbeard's face, replaced by a mask of pure, abject unease terror. The world around him seemed to melt away, leaving only Ace's burning, hate-filled eyes. The power of the Yami Yami no Mi, the darkness that could swallow all, felt like a child's toy against this tsunami of sheer spiritual force. He wasn't just being intimidated; he felt like his very soul was being ripped apart. He saw visions of his own death, he was not a fool as he could very well give Red Hair Shanks an scar, but this haki is something else, Its more of a rage.
His massive body trembled, and he staggered backward, his new crewmates faring no better. Sanjuan Wolf whimpered, Vasco Shot dropped his gourd, and even Shiryu of the Rain had his hand on his sword, his face pale and grim.
"What... what is this monster?!" Catarina Devon shrieked.
Teach's breathing was ragged, his eyes wide with a fear he hadn't felt since he was a child. He had come here for a dying old man's power. He had come to kick a lion on its deathbed. He had not, under any circumstances, come to fight a fully awakened, bloodlusted demon king who radiated an aura that could make the heavens themselves kneel.
'Fighting and killing him now would probably the best option..but i can't trust these marines dogs and that red hair bastard is also coming '
His opportunism, the core of his very being, screamed at him. This was not a winning fight. Even if he win , it will take more than arm or two.
"This... This wasn't part of the plan!" Teach stammered, his voice a panicked squeak. He turned to his terrified crew. "We're leaving! NOW!"
"But Captain, the power..." Avalo Pizarro protested.
"FORGET THE POWER!" Blackbeard roared, his bravado returning only in his desperation to escape. "That thing is not the man I knew! We'll get what we came for another time! Retreat! For Now!"
Without a second glance, the man who would be Emperor turned and fled, his crew scrambling to follow him. They clambered back over the wall, a disorganized, terrified mob, disappearing from sight as quickly as they had arrived.
Blackbeard, the ultimate opportunist, had run away.
As his presence vanished, the suffocating pressure over Marineford receded, coalescing back into Ace. The sky lightened, the red-black lightning faded, and the world could breathe again.
A profound, echoing silence fell over the battlefield, broken only by the groans of the kneeling Vice Admirals and the distant crackle of flames.
Ace stood in the center of it all, panting slightly, the crimson flames around him slowly softening back to their normal orange-gold hue. He had just routed a future Emperor of the Sea and his entire crew of legendary criminals with a single glare. He had single-handedly neutralized ninety percent of the Marine forces.
He had created a stalemate born of sheer terror. And now, in the stunned silence, every remaining player—Whitebeard, the Admirals,
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I will be improving the quality and quantity of the chapters from here a lot...also decided to go with yamato as an love interest for now, As many of you recommended.....leaving hancock sadly :(
Also I will be uploading 30+ chapters this comming saturday on patreon.
https://www.patreon.com/c/kapa69