A surge of Conqueror's Haki burst forth like a tangible force, cutting across the sea toward Tenma—Whitebeard's final, stubborn defiance.
Ripples spread across the sea surface for several kilometers.
Tenma merely chuckled. An invisible wall of compressed air instantly formed in front of him, casually blocking the wave of Haki.
Then he moved his foot slightly.
The shattered chunks of floating stone immediately gathered together, swelling in size. In the blink of an eye, they reformed into a floating island roughly the size of the Moby Dick.
After picking up Hancock and Yamato, the island slowly rose back into the sky.
Tenma glanced down from above and guided the island toward the distant heavens.
Whitebeard watched him leave without saying a word.
For the family he had built over decades—for those foolish sons of his—even the hollow title of "World's Strongest," even the dignity of a great pirate… he could cast them all aside.
Only after Tenma's figure completely vanished—
Whitebeard's body suddenly trembled, and with a shock, he flung off the blood staining him.
"Father!"
Marco rushed over at once, his face full of panic.
But when he got close, his heart sank in horror at the severity of his father's injuries.
"These are just minor wounds. Nothing worth fussing over."
Whitebeard forced a grin and shoved Marco's hand away, trying to reassure the sons gathering around him.
Not far away, Red-Haired Shanks wore a grave expression.
A full-scale war had been avoided, but the price Whitebeard paid this time was far too heavy.
The terrifying sword wounds across his chest and back, the dense cuts covering his body—no matter how you looked at it, they were anything but "minor."
Meanwhile, far from the battlefield, atop the floating island.
The moment Tenma finally relaxed, he was immediately surrounded by two anxious women.
They trusted his strength, but his opponent had been Whitebeard. A fight at that level—how could there be no injuries?
Without a word, Hancock mobilized the souls collected from the Whitebeard Pirates and Totto Land, commanding the homie Anubis to begin healing Tenma.
"I'll help too!" Yamato crackled with electricity, eyes shining with enthusiasm.
"Electrical stimulation will make you recover faster!"
"Stop, stop, stop!"
Tenma hurriedly grabbed the hand sparking with lightning.
What kind of joke was this? His heart wasn't stopped—there was no need to suffer that kind of torment.
Soul-based healing might consume more resources, but at least it was comfortable.
And Wano was rich now—souls were hardly in short supply.
Seeing the smug look on Hancock's face, and Yamato puffing out her cheeks in frustration, Tenma's mood brightened considerably.
He pulled the two of them into his arms and looked toward the distant horizon.
"The last stumbling block in the New World has been kicked aside."
There was naked ambition in Tenma's voice.
"Next… only the highest peak remains."
A goal far greater than defeating Whitebeard—
to overthrow the World Government that had ruled for eight hundred years and take that true Empty Throne.
"Lord Tenma is destined to be the King of the World!"
Hancock nestled into his embrace, tracing circles on his chest, her eyes full of worship.
"Lord Tenma is now the world's strongest man, and I am the world's most beautiful woman… ah, it's simply a match made in heaven!"
As she spoke, Hancock's face turned red, and she covered her cheeks, sinking into a pink-tinted fantasy of her own making.
"Hey, Tenma!"
Yamato rudely cut through Hancock's reverie.
"Now that that old Whitebeard guy is settled, let's continue that fun game Maria Fang mentioned a few days ago!"
"Yamato!! You shameless woman!"
Hancock instantly exploded, baring her teeth in fury.
Night fell.
After the earth-shaking battle earlier that day, the Whitebeard Pirates were devoid of their usual laughter.
Most had already returned to their cabins, speaking in hushed tones about the fight, the atmosphere heavy and subdued.
The Red-Haired Pirates hadn't left. The Red Force remained moored tightly alongside the Moby Dick.
As the Red-Haired crew's doctor, Doc was busy inside Whitebeard's quarters.
Despite his superb medical skills, even Doc was drenched in sweat when faced with Whitebeard's monstrous physique.
With no banquet to distract him, Whitebeard obediently stayed in the main cabin to rest.
"Shanks… this time, thank you. Truly."
In the corridor, Marco sincerely thanked the red-haired man.
If not for Shanks bringing a doctor—and for stopping the situation from spiraling further—the Whitebeard Pirates would have been in far worse shape today.
Shanks waved it off casually.
"Don't say that. I just didn't want to see the world spiral out of control."
Marco studied him deeply but said nothing more.
Though it pained him, he had to admit it.
From today onward, the man named Tenma was the new "World's Strongest."
And as his father's condition continued to deteriorate, that gap would only grow wider.
Marco himself didn't care about that hollow title—but he worried about the crew.
A shattered belief was terrifying.
Some might question. Some might leave.
With a heavy sigh, Marco turned toward his father's room.
It was deep into the night when the Red Force finally set sail.
"Phew! What a day—my heart nearly jumped out of my chest!"
The moment they returned to their own ship, the Red-Haired officers collapsed on the deck without a shred of decorum.
"In the end, it's all because the boss is too reckless,"
Yasopp complained while rubbing his still-trembling arms.
"Honestly, being stared down by those two female monsters from Wano and Whitebeard's commanders—I could barely hold my gun steady."
"Hahaha! You're just a coward!"
Lucky Roux laughed as he expertly set up a campfire, already preparing a late-night snack to calm his nerves.
Everyone laughed, as if the terror of the day had never existed.
But deep down, they all knew—
after witnessing power capable of destroying the world, who could truly remain unaffected?
Shanks smiled faintly and turned to Doc, who had just returned.
"How's Whitebeard?"
"Not good," Doc said grimly.
"That freakish body means he won't die, but there are too many underlying conditions. This fight aggravated old wounds—he'll probably never be able to maintain peak strength again."
"That's just how it is. Time spares no one."
Shanks took a bowl of liquor and downed it in one gulp.
Even if the façade of "two emperors standing side by side" could barely be maintained, Whitebeard's decline was already inevitable.
Which meant the Red-Haired Pirates needed to pick up the pace as well.
"Have you thought about our next move?"
Ben Beckman asked, exhaling a plume of smoke.
"Isn't that something I should be asking you, our strategist?"
Shanks tossed the question back with a grin.
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