Between the two ships, the sea detonated in an instant.
The shockwave burst outward in a perfect ring, shaving an entire layer off the ocean's surface as if it had been planned away by an invisible blade.
The Marine warship lurched violently. Sailors were flung like leaves in a storm—some slammed into the mast, others tumbled headlong into the gun emplacements. When the opposing tremors finally neutralized each other, the deck fell into a deathly silence.
Then—
"H-He… he blocked Whitebeard's attack?!"
"No way! That was the Tremor-Tremor Fruit—power that can trigger tsunamis!"
"That guy from the West Blue… what kind of monster is he?!"
For these Headquarters Marines, their worldview had been completely shattered.
They had personally witnessed Edward Newgate obliterate entire fleets with a single blow.
And yet now, a mere ensign from the so-called "corrupt sea," the West Blue, had endured that destructive force head-on?!
Worse still—
the power he displayed looked eerily identical.
"H-He… actually stopped it…"
The Headquarters lieutenant collapsed onto the deck, pupils trembling violently.
His mind flatly rejected what his eyes were seeing.
A branch ensign promoted from the West Blue—
had just faced Whitebeard directly… and lived?!
Sure, he'd heard Gern was a Devil Fruit user.
But the man standing opposite him was Whitebeard.
For a long moment, every gaze on the ship locked onto that lone figure confronting the strongest man alive.
The sea wind abruptly died.
Time itself seemed to freeze.
Soaked through by seawater, the last trace of hesitation vanished from Gern's eyes, replaced by a resolve sharpened to the breaking point.
"Quake Step · Sky Tread!"
Without the slightest pause, an ultra-dense core of vibration particles compressed beneath his feet.
He stomped down on the deck.
BOOOOM—!!!
What erupted was not a simple explosion, but a visible, high-frequency white shock ring that rippled outward in a perfect circle.
In the next instant, Gern's body elementalized—transforming into a pure stream of white energy composed entirely of high-frequency vibration particles.
He tore through the air with a piercing shriek and shot skyward, reaching a hundred meters in a blink. Below him, the warship shrank to a dot.
No time to think.
Gern's breathing grew heavy, yet his eyes sharpened to a razor's edge.
His muscular right arm lifted slowly while his left hand slid across the blade of Eight Desolations.
In that heartbeat, billions of violently oscillating particles wrapped around the blade, emitting a near-tangible hum that felt like it could slice through the soul itself.
The vibration particles began to condense—collapse—then compress again.
A blinding white membrane formed around the blade, folding inward endlessly.
The air around Gern fractured like brittle crystal, silently filling with fine cracks as light bent and refracted in warped, unnatural patterns.
BZZZZ—!
The vibration frequency of Eight Desolations skyrocketed to the absolute limit Gern could control.
The air near the blade no longer merely tore—it shattered like glass under a colossal hammer, breaking apart inch by inch.
Gradually, the vibration particles ceased orbiting.
Instead, they collapsed and fused along the blade's edge, forming a wavering light-blade that looked capable of cutting through dimensions themselves.
Facing Whitebeard at his absolute peak, hesitation meant death.
This was his strongest move.
Gern drew a deep breath and raised his right foot high.
Crack!
He stomped midair.
Space behind him split open in a radiating web of fractures.
Borrowing the violent recoil, Gern became a comet—dragging a blazing tail of particles as he rocketed straight toward Whitebeard.
On Whitebeard's ship, the great pirate narrowed his eyes slightly, fingers tightening around Murakumogiri.
For the first time, he studied this young Marine seriously.
"Gurararara…"
His low laughter rolled across the sea, carrying palpable tremor waves.
"An ability close to mine, huh? Interesting brat."
Beside him, Marco straightened, his playful expression gone. His pupils reflected the white streak screaming through the sky.
"Pops… something's off about his vibrations."
"Marco—get behind me!"
Whitebeard's smile vanished in an instant.
His Kenbunshoku Haki locked onto Gern, pupils contracting as if struck by blinding light.
A sharp, destructive edge—unlike anything before—was rushing toward him.
For a fleeting moment, he saw the future.
And if he let that strike land…
it would be no joke.
Whitebeard's hands clamped down on Murakumogiri's hilt like iron vices. His bulging muscles stretched the white captain's coat into towering ridges.
"Gurarara… saw something dangerous just now."
His deep laughter sent loose stones hopping across the deck.
"This Marine brat… he's got himself one hell of a power."
Marco didn't fully understand—until he saw the veins bulging along Whitebeard's neck like raging dragons.
Blue phoenix flames burst uncontrollably from Marco's wings.
"Pops… you're serious."
"Here it comes!!"
Whitebeard's roar wasn't merely sound—it carried a violent tremor that formed a visible white sonic ring.
He stepped back half a pace.
Crack!
The reinforced railing disintegrated into dust.
Murakumogiri hummed as its familiar white aura no longer spread gently—but surged and compressed violently.
In the next instant, Whitebeard launched himself forward.
"Marine brat," he said calmly, his voice steady as an anchor, instantly suppressing the raging sea stirred by their pressure.
"Tell me your name."
Gern bared his teeth in a grin, his voice piercing through the roar of vibration.
"Gern Reginald Sigma!"
"Remember this name—
it will echo to the very ends of this sea!"
BZZZT—SHRRRK!!
Eight Desolations' light-blade flared violently.
In the next second, the condensed white blade—formed of collapsed vibration particles—ignored distance itself and cleaved straight toward Whitebeard.
"Sky Tremor · Void Rend!"
Gern swung with everything he had.
CRACK—BZZZ!!!
What burst forth wasn't sword energy—
but a 裂痕, a fissure carved straight through space itself.
Where the blade passed, the atmosphere didn't fracture—it was shaken into total collapse by ultra-high-frequency vibration, leaving behind a rift whose edges flowed with pure white particulate chaos.
"Gurararara! Arrogant Marine brat!"
Whitebeard's eyes blazed with the light of discovery.
"My Kenbunshoku says I can't let you finish that attack!"
Murakumogiri's white aura compressed to its absolute limit, crystallizing into a solid layer imbued with the will to pulverize all things.
Both men swung at the same time.
At that instant, time lost all meaning.
CLANG—!!!
The light-blade of Eight Desolations slammed head-on into Murakumogiri's crystalline edge—
Not with the sound of metal—
but with a shrieking scream fused with a low, annihilating roar.
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