"TEACH!"
Ace's voice tore through the chaos like a thunderclap. His entire being was consumed by fire, not just in body but in soul, a blazing reflection of the turmoil within. He was no longer just a man wielding fire. He was fire itself, a blazing manifestation of wrath barely held together by flesh and willpower. The storm inside him raged hotter than the flames he summoned, and there was no stopping it.
The storm inside him swelled with every heartbeat. Rage surged through his veins like a tidal wave of molten metal, expanding and rising until there was no longer any boundary that could contain it. The pressure built. The heat intensified. The fury fed itself on every memory, every regret, every failure.
He would not stop it.
He would not calm down.
He would unleash every ounce of it.
Teach's mocking voice echoed in his skull. Each word felt like a dagger grinding into raw flesh.
"This is your fault."
The accusation replayed and replayed, an endless loop of torment that scraped against his sanity. Ace's jaw tightened until pain shot through it. His vision blurred at the edges, washed in deep shades of red and orange. It was not only the heat of the flames. It was the storm raging behind his eyes.
Did he hate Teach more than he hated himself?
He could not tell.
He did not want to think.
Because beneath the fury, buried deep in a place he never wanted to look, he knew Teach's accusation carried a truth he could not deny. Indirectly or not, his decisions had shaped this tragedy. His pride. His mistakes. His desperate stubbornness. Everything had dragged them into this hellfire.
People had died.
His family had suffered.
His father had fallen.
Because he had not been strong enough.
The weight of that guilt pressed against his chest like a collapsing mountain. But there was no time to crumble beneath it. There was no time to let sorrow drown him. Only one path remained. The path of destruction. The path of vengeance.
Teach would pay for everything. He would pay for the dead. For the wounded. For every moment Ace had felt powerless. For every moment he had doubted himself.
Ace erupted.
With a furious, primal roar that shook the air, he charged toward Blackbeard. Flames spiraled up and around him in a violent cyclone. Each movement left streaks of blazing heat trailing behind. The air popped, crackled, and sizzled under the pressure of his power. The temperature spiked so fast that even seasoned warriors flinched.
"ACE!"
Marco's voice rang out like a bell in the chaos, cutting through the din of war. In a flash, he shifted into his hybrid form. Flames of brilliant sky blue erupting around him. His wings flared outward with a majestic sweep, the light casting an ethereal glow over the battlefield. He took a sweeping glance at his crew, seeing every wound, every burn, every sign of exhaustion etched onto their figures.
But despite their injuries, despite the chaos surrounding them, they still stood. Bloodied. Bruised. Hurt. But unbroken.
Marco felt his throat tighten. Pride and grief twisted together inside him. These men and women had lost so much. Yet here they were, refusing to fall, refusing to give up on one another. Whitebeard's sons and daughters to the very end.
He called out, voice steady but filled with emotion. "Can you still fight?"
Vista stepped forward with a cracked blade gripped tightly in his hand. His forehead was bleeding, but he smiled with that same fearless glint he always carried. "What kind of question is that? Of course we can."
Jozu, bruised and bleeding but unbent, gave Marco a firm glare as he wiped blood from the corner of his mouth. "The fact you even bothered to ask such pointless quiestion is an insult to the crew, captain."
"My guns are no more, but I am far from being done." Izo announced, lifting a sword in his hand instead of his usual guns. He had once been a proud samurai oi Wano. To retreat now, when his blade was still intact, would shame not only himself but his homeland.
Haruta pushed himself upright, still pale from the injuries Marco had healed only moments ago. His voice cracked, but his will did not. "Count me in, Marco."
One by one, the remnants of Whitebeard's crew steeled themselves.
"This is nothing compared to what Oyaji gave us. Let's finish this!"
Marco felt his breath hitch. His vision blurred slightly as tears threatened to fall, though he quickly blinked them away. Whitebeard would never have wanted them to throw themselves recklessly into danger. Yet even so… he would have been proud of their unity, their loyalty, the fierce love they still held for one another.
Marco exhaled shakily.
I will apologize to Oyaji when I see him again.
With a bittersweet smile, he raised his voice to the heavens.
"Everyone! It is now or never. For Oyaji!"
"FOR WHITEBEARD!"
The cry thundered across the battlefield, loud and fierce enough to shake the heavens.
Marco led the charge. The Whitebeard Pirates surged forward, their unity so powerful that it momentarily drowned out the screams and clashing steel around them. The ground shook beneath their feet. Haki crackled like thunder. The battlefield was swallowed by chaos once more.
Most of Blackbeard's weaker followers were already unconscious, scattered across the field like fallen leaves. That worked to Marco's advantage. They needed every edge they could get.
While the enemy was still stunned from the overwhelming burst of Ace's Haki,the Whitebeard Pirates struck with everything they had, pouring their full strength into what could be their last battle.
Even so, those from Blackbeard's side that were still standing despite being exposed to Ace's sudden outburst of Haki, they could not be underestimated either. Especially those who were highly regarded by Blackbeard himself.
Such as the group of former criminals from Impel Down that he had brought along with him.
Vasco Shot staggered upright, having narrowly avoided the center of Ace's burst of Haki. He took a long drink from his bottle, emptied it in an instant, and hurled it aside. "That was some terrifying Haki," he muttered with a strange mix of awe and amusement. "Even Devon got knocked out of her form."
Laffitte glanced toward Devon, then allowed a small, eerie smile to curve across his lips. "Time for us to move."
"Crush them all!" Avalo Pizarro roared, his bloodlust exploding outward.
With that, a pair of wings sprouted from Laffitte's back and he immediately took off to face Marco the Phoenix. The other two followed immediately with the rest that could still fight, bloodlust radiating from their forms.
The situation became chaotic once again and more blood soaked into the ground.
A woman could be seen in the place where the white version of the Kyubi no Kitsune once stood. Catarina Devon was among the Devil Fruit users that were affected by Ace's own Haki. Due to the fact that she had just acquired her Devil Fruit's ability not too long ago, the woman herself was still unable to fully grasp her power. Which meant that even her transformation was somewhat unstable.
She was not alone. Sanjuan Wolf, the towering giant, had been knocked out of his enhanced form as well. Now forced back into his colossal natural body, he clung desperately to the edge of the island to avoid falling into the sea.
Devon snarled and reclaimed her white Kyuubi form Kyuubi form that she was so proud of. She then let out a growl as she charged forward and used her tails to sweep out everyone that stood on her way
Then at the corner of her eyes, she saw Blackbeard, surprisingly having a hard time dealing with his opponent. Without any hesitation, she made one final spin and her tails hit more people around her regardless if they were her allies or not and immediately headed towards Blackbeard and Ace's direction, obviously targeting the latter.
But then—
BANG!
A single gunshot rang out, sharp and decisive.
Devon let out a bone-chilling scream as searing fire tore through her shoulder, the force of the impact violently throwing her down onto the blood-soaked earth. Her Kyuubi form disintegrated instantly, dissolving into an ethereal mist, leaving behind her human body, all broken, vulnerable, and writhing in agonizing disbelief.
Every muscle in her frame convulsed, twitching uncontrollably as she clutched at her shoulder, her fingers trembling against the fresh, brutal wound.
She was bleeding.
Thick, dark crimson oozed between her fingers, staining her skin and soaking into the dirt below. Her eyes widened in horror, her face contorting into a mixture of fury and disbelief as her mind tried to process what had just happened.
She had been shot.
"Damn it!" she growled through clenched teeth, her voice low but laced with venom. Her eyes flicked to the embedded object—a bullet lodged deep into her shoulder, and not just any bullet. It radiated a faint, menacing aura. "A Haki-infused bullet," she muttered, realization dawning. No wonder her body felt like it was imploding from within. No wonder her strength was draining so fast.
Her rage boiled over.
"WHO?" she screamed, her voice cracking with rage. "WHO DARES TO SHOOT ME?"
The sharp crack of gunfire had already drawn the attention of the surrounding fighters, but it was Devon's furious scream that truly froze the battlefield. Eyes turned toward her, and then up, scanning for the source of the shot that had taken down the Crescent Moon Hunter.
"Who?" Laffitte murmured, his voice calm but laced with suspicion as he hovered above the scene, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the chaotic landscape. Beside him, Marco mirrored the motion, both men now sharply on alert.
Then, something caught their attention.
Their eyes widened.
"Well, this is a problem." Laffitte merely stated, feeling a sense of dread overwhelming himself though he did a good job in masking his emotions. Without further comment, he abruptly descended from the sky, abandoning Marco midair as he landed beside Vasco Shot.
He leaned in and whispered something urgent.
Without hesitation, Vasco Shot's expression darkened, and he barked a command. The group moved swiftly, gathering their fallen. Jesus Burgess, unconscious and limp, was hoisted over a shoulder. Shiryu, barely clinging to consciousness, was dragged along without care. They moved as one, making their way toward Devon.
Their abrupt shift in behavior did not go unnoticed.
Vista narrowed his eyes.
"What are they doing?" someone muttered, suspicion rising.
Marco, still floating midair, finally snapped out of his stunned silence and returned to his crew's side, landing lightly.
"What's going on, Marco?" Izo asked, his voice tight with tension, his hand already hovering near the hilt of his weapon..
Before the blonde could open his mouth to respond, a shout from the battlefield interrupted him.
"Look! Over there!"
All eyes turned to the horizon. Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd as a familiar sight came into view.
"It's the Red Force!"
Red Force, a ship that belonged to the one and only Red Hair Pirates!
It was Shanks's crew!