As the fierce duel between Snake Princess and Bista raged, the battle unfolding directly in front of the Moby Dick was turning into a one-sided massacre.
"Boom!!" A deafening explosion tore through the battlefield, sending smoke and shockwaves rolling outward.
"Come on, you worthless lot! All of you!"
Through the haze of dust, the massive figure of Douglas Barrett slowly rose to his full height. His body radiated concentrated, pitch-black Armament Haki, a living nightmare forged in flesh and steel. A demon returned from hell, his combination of raw martial prowess and Haki unleashed an aura of pure despair.
The Sixth Division captain, Bramanck, and the Tenth Division captain, Curiel (Blenheim), attempted to flank him, weapons brimming with Haki, ready to strike.
But Barrett's speed defied imagination. His arms shot out like lightning, anticipating their attacks before they fully developed. With precise timing, he seized both captains' faces in his hands—one in each, ignoring the swinging weapons and desperate struggles.
A feral grin spread across his face as his arms erupted with terrifying strength. He slammed the two heads together like a pair of massive bells.
"Thunk!!"
The sickening thud rattled the teeth of anyone nearby. Bramanck and Curiel couldn't even scream before stars filled their vision. Their Armament Haki faltered, and they flew backward like broken kites, crashing hard against the ground and losing consciousness instantly.
"Opportunity!"
As Barrett finished them off, Marshall D. Teach struck. Like a lurking serpent, he surged from the shadows, claws aimed at Barrett's back.
But Barrett's instincts were nothing short of beastly. Without even turning, his massive, Haki-infused hand shot out, snapping Teach's wrist in an iron grip.
"What—? Wait, I…" Teach's eyes widened in shock.
"Sneak attack? Too slow!" Barrett growled. His muscles bulged as he swung Teach like a ragdoll, slamming him into the ground.
"Bang!!" A deep crater formed where Teach hit, a spurt of blood erupting from his mouth, his organs seeming to shift violently inside. Pain robbed him of all movement, leaving him sprawled in the pit, temporarily paralyzed.
In the next heartbeat, Barrett vanished like a phantom.
Satch barely registered a blur before the colossal figure reappeared before him, a fist wrapped in Haki expanding ominously in his vision.
"Pft!"
Satch couldn't react—an irresistible force slammed into his abdomen. Agony immediately wiped his consciousness, and he was hurled skyward like a train at full speed.
Without missing a beat, the ground beneath Barrett cracked again, and he teleported once more—appearing in front of the Sixteenth Division captain, Izou.
Izou hadn't even lifted his pistols before a gust of malevolent wind hit him. Barrett made no effort at finesse—a simple, brutal Haki-infused horizontal punch slammed into his side.
"Cough!!" Blood erupted from Izou's mouth. He flew sideways like a disconnected kite, his pistols flying from his hands.
Just as he was about to crash heavily into the deck, a massive hand caught him effortlessly. Whitebeard had risen, lifting the injured Izou and gently setting him on the deck. His face, already icy with authority, bore a deep frown.
Below, Barrett moved like a tiger among sheep, annihilating anyone who dared oppose him. Whitebeard's gaze hardened; this man was even stronger than the legends suggested.
"Kurarara…" Whitebeard let out an enraged, almost manic laugh. He hoisted Bushinkiri with one hand, his massive body defying its size with astonishing speed as he leapt from the Moby Dick.
"Hey!!!"
His roar, like rolling thunder, shook the battlefield. Even midair, the supreme blade, one of the legendary Twelve Supreme Blades, sliced through the air with the terrifying force of mountains cracking and seas splitting, Haki concentrated to the extreme.
"You little challenge brat from Roger's ship!!"
Simple. Direct. Yet the strike carried the fury and absolute power of the "World's Strongest Man."
Barrett, still savoring his rampage, heard the roar and that familiar title. His face split into a vicious grin.
"Whitebeard!!"
But his smile was cut short.
"BOOM!!!!!!"
Bushinkiri's blade struck.
Barrett instinctively pushed his Haki to the max, intersecting the attack. Yet the sheer power of Whitebeard's anger-laden strike exceeded all his calculations. The instant the blades met, a force unimaginable erupted like a landslide crashing upon the battlefield.
Barrett's arms groaned under the pressure. His body was slammed as if by a mountain in motion, his face paling as his feet left the ground. He flew backward like a cannonball, carving a deep furrow dozens of meters long before finally skidding to a halt amid clouds of dust.
The might of Whitebeard's single strike froze the battlefield.
"Seems Roger didn't teach you…" Whitebeard said, holding Bushinkiri with one hand, standing in the center of the field. His captain's white coat flapped in the sea wind. His icy gaze fixed on Barrett's flight path, voice low and oppressive:
"This is what courtesy means!"
As Barrett hurtled back like a cannonball, tearing the ground and sending stone and dust scattering, a mad, audacious laughter split the air.
"Ye hahahaha!!!"
Blue lightning flashed across the battlefield as Enel hovered midair, surrounded by crackling electricity. His golden staff pointed at Whitebeard below. His expression radiated godlike arrogance, looking down upon mortals with utter contempt.
"How dare you harm my subordinates?! Looks like this old man has no idea what true divine authority is! Now, puny mortal, feel the judgment of a god!"
Behind him, the drums struck: thud!
"200 Million Volts—Raijin Dragon!!"
A massive, roaring dragon of living lightning coalesced, its form terrifyingly real. Teeth bared, claws outstretched, it charged Whitebeard with cataclysmic energy, leaving the air behind it smelling of scorched ozone.
Yet, just before the dragon could strike, a birdcall rang out sharply across the battlefield.
"Sorry, but you won't be disturbing Daddy."
A wave of eerie azure flames erupted from thin air, forming a massive, thick shield in front of Whitebeard. The lightning dragon collided with the flames but was absorbed like a stone thrown into a pond. The surging electricity stirred ripples but could not break through.
The flames exploded outward in the next second, condensing into a streak of searing fire. Within it, a figure wrapped in azure fire shot forward at incredible speed—none other than "Phoenix" Marco.
His eyes sharpened as he raised his right leg, armored in blue flames like a war axe. With a deafening whoosh, he struck toward Enel, who floated above him.
"Clang!!"
Enel reacted instantly, coating his golden staff in dark Armament Haki, meeting Marco's leg in a cross-block. The collision rang like clashing metal, sending Enel drifting backward several meters.
Marco used the force to perform a graceful backflip, hovering opposite Enel. His flaming wings fanned slowly, framing him like a living weapon. He regarded the self-proclaimed "god," electricity crackling around him, with a wry, amused expression.
"Hey, hey… going all out right from the start? Young people really are impatient nowadays. Hello there… middle-schooler—uh, I mean… lightning boy." He nearly blurted out his inner thought—"you're such a cringe teen"—and quickly corrected himself.
Enel, enraged by Marco's teasing tone and the ease with which he had blocked his lightning dragon, tightened his grip on the staff. Lightning flared in his eyes. Through gritted teeth, he spat:
"Hmph! Flying… bird-man!"
"Bird-man?" Marco raised an eyebrow. His wings flared, flames intensifying.
"Then watch your claws, 'bird-man.' They're sharp enough to tear you apart!"
"Enough talk! I'll roast you alive!" Enel shouted, striking the drums again. Even more violent electricity began to condense.
"How many times have I told you…" Marco sighed, eyes narrowing. Blue flames wove around him like living entities."I'm a Phoenix, you know!!"
Lightning and blue fire collided once more, and the god and the immortal bird engaged in a deadly aerial duel. Thunder and flame intertwined, transforming the sky into their battlefield.