"Evacuate the wounded! Fall back toward the base!"
Garp's roar boomed across the frozen battlefield.
"Yes, Vice Admiral Garp!"
Even the hawk-faction hardliners, faces dark and sour, followed the order without argument. Orders were orders.
"Ararara… Mythical Zoans really are something," Aokiji sighed, looking up at the clash in the sky. Every time the two dragons collided, a fresh wave of pressure rolled across the ice, flattening it in rippling bursts.
Nearby, medics swarmed over the injured.
Sakazuki stood among them, wrapped in bandages from neck to waist, a cigarette clenched between his teeth, eyes cold.
He snorted.
He hated that guy's style.
So what if White Ghost was strong?
He didn't follow orders. He wandered off whenever he pleased. Worst of all, he'd gone and set up some ridiculous "pirate slave corps."
To Sakazuki, it was nothing but disgrace—a stain on the uniform and an insult to the very idea of Marine justice.
"You three still alive?" Aokiji asked, looking over at Kuro, Ain, and Jango.
Kuro's body was scorched and bandaged in several places, glasses cracked. Ain's arms and side were wrapped over sword wounds. Jango still had dried blood at the corner of his mouth.
"No big deal," Kuro said, pushing his broken glasses back up. "That Marco's flame is really a pain—my Armament couldn't keep it out. Looks like I need to push my speed and Haki a lot harder."
Ain quietly tightened the bandage around her own waist, refusing the medic's hands.
"A true Great Swordsman really is on another level… Next time… next time, I will beat that man."
"Cough… cough…" Jango wiped his mouth, opened it to say something—
SMACK, SMACK, SMACK!
Garp's hand came down on his shoulder over and over.
"Not bad, brat! You actually dared go head-to-head with Diamond Jozu, hahahahaha!"
He kept thumping him like he was congratulating a rookie on their first promotion.
The marines nearby all twitched.
In the end, it was Gion who couldn't watch anymore.
"Vice Admiral Garp… If you keep hitting him, he's going to die."
"Eh?"
Garp looked over just in time to see Jango spew a huge mouthful of blood and topple flat on his back. Medics rushed in, shouting.
"Hahahaha… Forgot, forgot you were trading blows with a diamond," Garp said cheerfully. "Still, kid, that body of yours isn't bad at all!"
The hawk-faction vice admirals' expressions grew even uglier.
Because in this war, they'd been put to shame. Every single one of them.
Those three "problem children" they despised so much—
One, Kuro, had fought the Whitebeard Pirates' First Division Commander, Marco the Phoenix, evenly in the air.
One, Ain, had crossed blades with Great Swordsman Vista. She'd been pushed back, yes—but she'd fought him all the way to the end without retreating.
And the last, Jango, had been clashing from the very beginning with the Third Division Commander, Diamond Jozu. He'd been beaten down again and again, but he'd never backed off, never broken—just kept ramming his battered Armament into diamond over and over.
That was diamond—one of the hardest substances in the world. Jango had eaten that head-on the whole way.
He'd paid for it, but the payoff was real: his Haki had gone up a notch, his body had gotten tougher, and his Devil Fruit control had leveled up the most.
Now compare that to the proud hawk-faction:
On one side, Onigumo had gotten worked over by Marco, then cut open by Vista, then tried to go bully some small fry only to get ganged up on. He was now wrapped head to toe in bandages, bleeding through them and barely conscious.
On the other, Doberman had drawn three Whitebeard division commanders at once—Atmos, Blamenco, and Speed Jiru—and been pounded to the edge of death.
Put simply: this war had been a complete and utter humiliation for them.
—
Up in the sky—
"Worororororo! Keep going! Keep going!" Kaido roared, drunk on the fight.
"Heh. Works for me."
White Ghost sucked in a deep breath.
…Heat breath? Kaido blinked.
"Ptoo."
What came out of White Ghost's mouth wasn't fire—but cold.
A wave of killing frost roared out. Kaido's forward momentum betrayed him; he couldn't stop in time and was flash-frozen in midair, turned into an enormous ice sculpture.
The frozen breath went on, blasting downward.
In an instant, the sea beneath them froze solid again.
"Ararara… That's completely against the laws of nature," Aokiji muttered. "You can do that too?"
BOOM-CRASH!
The Kaido-cicle slammed down onto the ice.
White Ghost landed lightly nearby.
"Quit playing dead, Kaido."
CRRRAAACK!
The ice shell shattered outward.
"Worororororo! You bastard… now you can use cold too?!"
"Maybe my dragon's just a higher grade than yours," White Ghost said pleasantly.
"Bastard… Then let's see which of us has the inferior fruit!"
Kaido lunged, kanabo swinging down.
"Hahahaha! Come on then!"
White Ghost brought up his Great Treasure Sword to meet him.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG—!
BANG-BANG-BANG—!
Steel rang. Shockwaves rippled. They traded blows with sword and club, switching between brute strength and technique.
"Thunder Bagua!"
"Gale Slash – Sky Line!"
BOOOOM—!
Club and blade collided again. The ice split in a long jagged line from the impact point.
"Worororororo! Now this is a fight! I haven't had this much fun in a long time!"
"That so? Thunder Form: Lightning Slash!"
White Ghost swung, a crescent of sword-qi crackling with lightning tearing through the air.
Kaido batted it aside with a snort—
Then his expression flickered as a tingling numbness crawled over his arms.
"Worororororo… You're coating your sword-qi with lightning now, too?"
"There's plenty you don't know. Ice Slash."
This time the flying arc of sword-qi carried killing cold. Wherever it passed, the shattered ice refroze in smooth blue plates.
Kaido twisted and dodged; the slash carved a deep groove into the floes and instantly glazed it into a frozen trench.
"Gurararara… This sea's only going to get noisier from here," Whitebeard said, taking a long pull from his sake gourd.
"Tch tch… That swordplay is something else," Vista murmured, fingers combing through his curled mustache. "He's a Devil Fruit ability user, but his swordsmanship's also that good."
"And that body of his is terrifying," Jozu rumbled, watching White Ghost take a full Thunder Bagua head-on, skid back, then charge in again to land a heavy blow of his own.
"Pops."
Marco fluttered over, holding a piece of paper.
"Got a bit more info."
"Oh? An East Blue brat… and he's the one who killed that bastard Shiki? Gurararara… East Blue again, huh."
Whitebeard laughed, calling out louder so all his sons would hear.
"Brats! From now on, our Whitebeard Pirates have a real rival out there!"
Some of the commanders sniffed in disdain.
That guy might be strong, sure—but their old man was stronger. What was there to fear?
HUMMMMM—
Up above, the Haki around Kaido and White Ghost changed, black lightning threading around their weapons as advanced Conqueror's burst forth from both.
BOOOM-BOOOM-BOOOM!
The newly refrozen surface exploded again, pulverized by the force.
"Ararara… Their Conqueror's really is something."
Aokiji sighed and stamped his foot. Ice raced outward once more, refreezing the churning sea.
He was basically acting as the battlefield's janitor now.
If they kept relying on White Ghost's ice tricks, the whole field would become a shattered, unstable mess—no footing, no margin for error.
So he took on the job.
Aokiji, Marine Headquarters — temporary terrain engineer.
"Vice Admiral Garp… Who do you think will win?" Gion asked, eyes fixed on the two figures.
Garp rubbed his chin.
"Hard to say. They both have advanced Conqueror's. Their Observation looks about even. For Armament, though, the brat has the edge—he's reached the top level."
He shrugged.
"In terms of raw body, Kaido's stronger. But that wind-sword style of the brat's can break through his defense. And they're both mythical Zoans, so their regeneration is insane."
He chuckled.
"I'd say without a few days and nights, they're not settling this cleanly."
Dalmatian stared at the clash, jaw tight.
"What insane swordsmanship. So that's a Great Swordsman… a"And he's what, not even twenty?"
Momonga puffed his cigar, expression unusually earnest.
"That Armament… it's monstrous. I wonder how he trained it. Oh, right—Chaton, you're close with him, aren't you? What was that sword called again?"
He frowned thoughtfully.
"That blade itself is nothing special, but the way he uses it—it looks so natural. I use a sword myself. I'll have to ask him for some pointers later."
Gion immediately turned her head away. She knew the answer. She just refused to say it.
Too embarrassing.
"Ah… about that…" Chaton hesitated. He'd planned to dump the question on Kuro or Jango.
But both of them had already turned away, faces blank. Even Ain gave him a look that clearly said: If you say my name, I'll cut you.
Even Garp was looking over now, curious.
With no way out, Chaton braced himself and blurted:
"Uh… that sword's name is… 'Great Treasure Sword.'"
"…"
A long line of question marks seemed to appear over the marines' heads.
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