"So that's… how it is…"
Vista murmured to himself, realization dawning in his eyes.
He finally understood why Marco and Lucian Thorn had remained so tight-lipped about this so-called "reinforcement"—no matter how hard they were pressed.
How could they even explain it?
Say, "I brought Pops back in his prime"?
And "Also summoned peak Rayleigh while I was at it"?
Who would believe that?
Say something like that and you'd be labeled insane.
Vista turned toward Marco and Lucian. A bitter and slightly embarrassed smile spread across his face as he approached them sincerely.
"Marco, Lucian… sorry. We wrongly accused you."
"Yeah!"
"We really misunderstood you!"
The other division commanders also stepped forward one by one, faces full of guilt.
Marco patted Vista's shoulder and said gently,
"We're family. No need to say all that."
Lucian, hands in his pockets, smiled lazily.
"Small stuff. For now, just sit back and enjoy Pops at his best."
As he said this, his gaze turned toward the old Whitebeard—still standing tall, but now battered and bruised, his aura fading.
Lucian casually strolled over.
"How about it, Pops?"
His smile was bright, almost bragging.
"What do you think of the reinforcements I brought? Not bad, right? Didn't let you down, did I?"
The elderly Whitebeard leaned on Murakumo Giri, his chest rising and falling violently. But on that weathered face… was the brightest smile he'd ever worn.
"Gurararara!"
He burst out laughing—his voice brimming with pride and joy.
"You brat…"
"You've never let me down!"
"I, Edward Newgate, have never been proud because people called me the strongest in the world—but because I had foolish sons like all of you!"
Lucian's grin only widened.
"That's enough to satisfy you? Just that, Pops?"
"Hm?"
Whitebeard blinked in confusion.
"Then let me give you one more gift."
Before he even finished speaking, Lucian raised his hands.
Hummm—!
A dazzling golden light gathered in his palms—pure, radiant, like a miniature sun.
A golden sphere of energy spun slowly in his hands, pulsing with a strange, vital warmth.
"Kid… What is that…?"
Before Whitebeard could even react, Lucian stepped forward and shoved the sphere straight into his chest!
Pff!
The moment the energy entered his body, Whitebeard jolted violently!
And in the next second—blinding golden light erupted from within him!
It was like a divine miracle.
The laser wounds from Kizaru, the magma burns from Akainu—all of it began to heal visibly before everyone's eyes!
In just a few seconds—
The light faded.
The once-wounded, weakened old Whitebeard—was completely restored!
Every injury—gone!
He was fully healed!
"This…"
Whitebeard looked down at his flawless hands, feeling the surging power once again flooding his body, stunned.
He stared at Lucian in disbelief.
"Kid… all my wounds… are gone?"
"And I swear… even my old lingering illnesses feel way better!"
"How did you do it?!"
It was far beyond anything he could comprehend.
Lucian replied calmly:
"Simple, Pops. I channeled a bit of the Sun God's power—specifically to heal your external wounds and internal ailments."
He paused, then added with slight regret:
"But the time was short, so I could only suppress most of your internal injuries for now. To fully heal them, I'll need Marco's help after the war."
"That's more than enough!"
Whitebeard clenched his fist tightly, feeling that long-lost strength unshackled by age or pain. Then, he let out a thunderous roar!
"This is more than enough, kid!"
And before Lucian could react—
Whitebeard stomped both feet on the ice and launched himself like a cannonball straight into the sky!
"Gurararara!!"
His laugh shook the heavens as he flew toward the battlefield—where his younger self was locked in combat with the Three Admirals.
"I'm coming to help you, younger me!"
The Three Admirals, who were already struggling, stared at the flying, revitalized Whitebeard—eyes bulging in disbelief.
Another one?!
Another fully powered Whitebeard?!
"Gurararara!"
Prime Whitebeard shattered Akainu's Crimson Lotus Fist with one punch, then glanced at his older self and scoffed.
"I don't need help from some half-dead old man!"
"Cut the crap!"
The elder Whitebeard was already there—throwing a punch of his own, pure tremor force shattering Aokiji's latest attack into nothing!
"Let's show these Navy brats…"
"Just how terrifying we are when we—cough—team up with ourselves!"
Two Whitebeards!
One in his prime—brutal and overwhelming.
One older—but now restored, seasoned, and relentless.
The two stood side by side, eyes locked on the pale-faced Admirals.
And at that moment—
Akainu, Aokiji, and Kizaru—the Navy's top three—were struck by the same absurd yet undeniable thought:
'We're really going to die today!'
Elsewhere
Sengoku's situation wasn't much better.
"Buddha Shockwave!"
He unleashed a massive golden blast from his palm—only for Rayleigh to casually deflect it with his sheathed blade.
As time passed, Sengoku could feel it—his stamina fading fast.
'Age… it's the one thing I can't fight.'
He simply couldn't keep up with this prime version of the Dark King.
His eyes swept across the battlefield—and his heart sank.
The Three Admirals were locked down by the two Whitebeards—no way to retreat!
Garp was entangled by those two insane Luffys—he couldn't pull back either!
Their high-level forces—were completely tied down!
And the most terrifying one—Lucian Thorn—hadn't even moved yet.
Meanwhile, their own Vice Admirals were being pushed back by the reinvigorated Whitebeard commanders.
The signs of defeat were clear.
Sengoku's heart hit rock bottom.
A cold, dangerous thought surfaced in his mind.
'If we can't win—then we must at least complete the mission!'
Sengoku suddenly pulled back from Rayleigh, gathering his strength, and roared with everything he had:
"All forces—listen to me!!"
"Abandon your current targets!!"
"Ignore all casualties!!"
"Everyone—focus on the execution platform! Ensure Fire Fist Ace is executed!!"
"I repeat! Execute the order at ALL COSTS!!!"
The command sliced through every Marine like a blade of ice.
But an order was an order.
And in the next second—all Marines not already bound in battle surged toward the execution platform like a tidal wave!
They used their bodies—layer upon layer—to form a desperate wall of flesh and blood.
Lucian watched it unfold… and smirked.
"A dying struggle, huh… Sengoku?"
"You think that'll actually work?"
As his words fell, golden light began to rise from his body.
It looked like he was finally ready—to take the field and end this farce himself.
Suddenly—another shift!
The Prime Luffy, who'd been locked in battle with Garp, abruptly stopped attacking.
He stood still, clenched his fists—and began pounding his chest!
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The sound was deep—like ancient war drums. Slow, heavy, rhythmic.
"Hey! Other me!"
The timeline's Luffy looked on in total confusion. "What are you doing?!"
Prime Luffy didn't answer. He just beamed—grinning wide—and began shouting joyfully.
"It's coming! It's coming!"
"It's coming!"
Everyone on the battlefield froze, confused by this bizarre behavior.
Even Garp paused, puzzled.
Only Lucian—
The moment he saw Luffy pounding his chest, his grin deepened with amusement.
He lowered his raised hand and watched with keen interest.
"The Drums of Liberation…"
"Nika… you're finally coming, huh?"