Whitebeard's thunderous laugh rolled across Crescent Moon Bay, a sound like an earthquake of a man who barely felt age. "Gurarararara, who gave you the boldness to speak to me like that?"
At once his massive fist shot forward, sending cracks rippling through the very space before him. The air around Crescent Bay trembled as if it might shatter at any moment.
The volcanic bombs that hung frozen in the sky quivered, then abruptly shifted direction as Whitebeard's mighty force continued to surge outward.
"Look out, the volcanic bombs are heading for the plaza!"
"Get clear, move!"
"Damn it, Whitebeard really is a monster!"
Just then, a colossal figure soared into the air above the battlefield, voice booming through the chaos, "So many lava bombs, this is quite troublesome."
He raised a hand, and instantly a dome of frigid air formed, encasing the entire plaza in a cold, shimmering sphere. Every fiery bomb that struck it fizzled into pitch-black rock before breaking apart into harmless fragments that fell to the ground. Marines exhaled in relief.
They all knew the terror of Admiral Akainu's magma abilities, how even a single touch could mean death or grievous injury. Fortunately, Aokiji, the ice Admiral, had appeared in time.
"Tasuketa!" came the relieved shouts from the Marines.
"It's Admiral Aokiji!"
"We're saved!"
Whitebeard's brow furrowed at the sight, "Aokiji, you brat, always ruining my plans!"
Aokiji merely turned and vanished into the sky, leaving behind an enormous ripple of cold that stabilized the battlefield around him.
Across the seas, this moment was broadcast live and created a colossal sensation, with voices crying out everywhere:"The war has begun!""This is the power of Whitebeard versus an Admiral!""Marineford and the Seven Warlords against the Whitebeard Pirates, who will win?"
Back on the battlefield, Whitebeard's spatial crack continued its unstoppable spread, moving toward Akainu like a tidal force.
Akainu raised his magma-infused mechanical arm and met the crack head-on, his punch colliding with Whitebeard's advancing force in a deafening boom.
The ground beneath him fractured and splintered as Akainu slid back a few steps, barely regaining his footing. With a powerful thrust of his waist, he shattered the spatial crack and surveyed the field.
He measured the distance — only five meters separated him from the execution platform now. Even though rumors had claimed Whitebeard was weakened by age and injury, Akainu could see plainly that they were nonsense. Whitebeard's strength was colossal.
Akainu wiped a trace of molten magma from his chin before smirking, "Whitebeard, you really are still strong."
Whitebeard pointed his great bisento at him and rumbled, "Gurarararara, magma brat, your strength is not bad."
This was no ordinary clash. Whitebeard's power had shaken worlds, and here he tested it against an Admiral.
The battlefield erupted again as both sides surged forward.
"Charge!" Pirates screamed as they advanced toward the execution platform.
"Ace, we're here!"
"Ace!"
"Ace!"
Marines called back, "Don't let them reach the platform!"
Steel met steel, cries of pain and defiance echoing through the air. The field became stained with blood as casualties fell on both sides.
Amid the chaos, Ace watched his comrades — brothers in arms, sons of Whitebeard — cut down one by one. His heart bled for every one of them.
"Ace!" he called out, ready to rush forward, but Sengoku's voice cut through the din.
"Ace, quiet!" the Marshal demanded, gripping his shoulder.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Heavy footsteps sounded from behind. Sengoku turned to see Garp approaching the execution platform.
"Garp, what are you doing?" Sengoku demanded.
At such a critical moment, Garp, Vice Admiral and Ace's grandfather, had stepped up onto the platform. Sengoku wondered whether he planned to rescue Ace. But Garp's face was a mask of grim resolve, betraying no real intent to fight.
Garp did not answer immediately. Instead, he walked slowly toward Ace, his eyes distant and heavy.
"Garp, what do you think you're doing?!" Sengoku roared, panic edging his voice as the world watched live.
There was no way Garp could rescue Ace; the World Government had prepared too thoroughly. Marines, Admirals, and even the Seven Warlords of the Sea were all present. Hidden agents lurked in the shadows. Even if Garp stood as a revered Navy Hero, there was no way the tides could be changed.
Yet for Garp, none of that was reason to abandon his own blood.
Garp turned slightly toward Sengoku, voice slow and measured, "I'm just here to sit with Ace for a while."
He understood Sengoku's fear, but Garp's posture was unmistakable, hunched with the weight of sorrow and inevitability. As one of the most important figures in the Marines, he knew all the forces arrayed here — too many to count, too powerful to defeat. Even he could not stop what was to come.
Ace's execution could not be changed.
The thought of losing Ace was unbearable.
Sengoku watched Garp with a solemn expression and slowly sighed, no longer arguing. How could he not understand Garp's feelings? Ace had been like a grandson, raised from childhood almost as family. Losing him now was a pain Sengoku could scarcely fathom.
Even when Garp's adopted son Rosinante had died, it had devastated him. To see Ace fall now was even worse.
So Sengoku did what he could for an old friend — he allowed Garp to sit beside Ace, to share the last moments before fate took him.
Garp settled down slowly next to his kneeling grandson.
The war raged on all around them, yet in that moment, grandfather and grandson sat quiet upon the frozen ground of Crescent Moon Bay…
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