"Thousand Pulse Cannon…!!!"
Scarlett's roar tore through the air as her colossal mechanical arm locked into position, glowing with unstable arcs of magnetic energy. The seas below shuddered, frothing as if dragged by invisible hands, while even gravity itself seemed to distort under the crushing pressure of her Magnet-Magnet Fruit. Sparks hissed along the rails of her construct, the build-up of power so great the very sky vibrated.
Then—she fired.
A blinding projectile ripped free from the railgun with a thunderous crack, tearing across the horizon before fracturing midair into a thousand shards of devastation. Each fragment pulsed with condensed magnetic fury, scattering across the heavens like falling stars, each one large enough to rip through the hull of a warship. Together they blanketed the battlefield, a storm of destruction threatening to swallow the enemy fleet whole.
But Admiral Ginshimo was already there.
His blade remained sheathed, his form a blur as he stepped across the sky with Geppō, each movement measured, calm—a stark contrast to Scarlett's tempest of chaos. With a quiet exhale, his hand brushed the hilt.
"Senbonzakura: Hōgeki…!"
The draw came in a single, fluid motion. No thunder, no earth-shaking roar—just a silent storm. A single slash split apart into a thousand spectral blades, each one shimmering like falling petals under moonlight. Delicate to the eye, yet each petal carried the cutting force to split steel and stone alike.
Then sky met sky.
Scarlett's magnetic barrage collided head-on with Ginshimo's petal storm, and the world convulsed. Thousands of projectiles—beams of condensed magnetism and razor-sharp petals—intercepted one another midair, detonating in an endless series of rapid-fire explosions. The heavens bloomed with fire and light, a chain of incandescent blasts that painted the night in colors both beautiful and apocalyptic.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—
The air itself screamed as shockwaves ripped across the sea, flattening waves into walls of white spray. Entire swathes of sky lit up like a battlefield of gods, petals and beams devouring each other in a relentless cascade, until the clash resembled a second sun erupting above the ocean.
Scarlett's grin widened, knowing that this old man was not going to be an easy bone to chew, sweat trickling down her brow as the recoil of her railgun thrummed through her body. The sheer magnitude of her attack should have overwhelmed anything in its path—yet Ginshimo's calm, surgical precision had split her destruction apart blow for blow.
"Not bad for an old man…" Scarlett sneered, her voice crackling with static. Sparks danced across her body as her magnetic field intensified, drawing iron fragments from the ruined ships and twisted debris littering the sea. In the blink of an eye, her form changed as she decided to take the Admiral head on in close combat.
Metal screamed as it bent and compressed, fusing into an armored titan. She swelled to nearly five meters tall, clad in pitch-black plating forged by sheer will and magnetism. Spikes crowned her shoulders, jagged wings of scrap metal flared from her back, and her face was hidden behind a jagged helm with a T-shaped visor glowing crimson from the magnetic charge within. A knight born from the abyss.
In her gauntleted hands, she conjured a weapon befitting the monstrous form—a massive greatsword, forged from compressed steel beams and ship plating, its edge glowing faintly red with superheated magnetic force.
Scarlett had become a black iron juggernaut, a fantasy knight clad in destruction. With a roar, she vanished from sight, reappearing in a streak of lightning right above Ginshimo. The greatsword came down.
"CLANG—!!!"
Ginshimo's blade met the blow. The impact split the air, the force ripping the clouds apart and driving the sea into a crater below them. Water was forced away as if the ocean itself recoiled from their clash, leaving a gaping hole before it rushed back with a tidal wave.
For all her monstrous size and overwhelming strength, Ginshimo did not yield. The admiral stood with his blade raised, his stance unbroken, his body steady against the storm.
Scarlett snarled, pressing harder. "How long can you hold against this, old man?!"
Ginshimo's eyes narrowed. "As long as it takes. And aren't you supposed to be as old as I am...?"
In the next instant, the battle erupted into chaos. Scarlett swung her greatsword in a brutal arc at the teasing comment. Ginshimo parried, but the sheer mass of the weapon sent shockwaves that split the air and sea alike.
Each strike was like a falling meteor, powerful enough to cleave battleships in two, yet Ginshimo's blade flowed with calm precision, meeting every swing at just the right angle. Sparks showered as steel met steel, petals of light scattering from Ginshimo's blade with every clash.
She lunged. He sidestepped, cutting a shallow gash across her armor. Sparks hissed where his blade bit against the magnetic plating, but Scarlett's laughter boomed through her helm.
"Try harder… I know this isn't the extent of your strength!"
Her armored gauntlet lashed out, a backhand blow strong enough to crush stone. Ginshimo deflected with the flat of his blade, spinning away just as Scarlett swung her greatsword in a horizontal sweep. The strike cleaved through the air, slicing apart a wave below them and sending it crashing in two directions.
BOOOOM! The sea split, an entire column of water blasted aside.
Ginshimo dashed in, his body vanishing in bursts of Soru, his blade flashing like lightning. Dozens of cuts rained against Scarlett's armor in seconds, each one aimed for a joint, a weak point, an opening. The petals of his technique bloomed in the air again, a storm of delicate yet deadly slashes carving at her black shell.
But Scarlett only laughed, the sound echoing metallic and cruel. "Your blade sings beautifully… but it can't pierce this fortress!"
Her armor twisted, reshaping mid-combat as magnetic fields bent the metal to seal over the cuts. She swung her massive sword downward again, forcing Ginshimo to retreat in a burst of air.
Then she raised her free hand.
"Magnet Pulse: Gravity Well!"
The air warped. The magnetic pull exploded outward, dragging debris, seawater, and even the very ships themselves upward like helpless toys. The battlefield turned into a storm of steel and shattered timber swirling around Scarlett's armored form.
Ginshimo's movements slowed as the magnetic grip clawed at his blade and armor, pulling him toward her. His haki flared, anchoring him midair as he cut through flying debris with calm precision. Scarlett descended on him like a black comet, her greatsword swinging down to finish the fight. But Ginshimo's eyes flared. His hand tightened on the hilt.
"Senbonzakura: Rekkō…!" ("Thousand Cherry Blossoms: Hunting Howl")
His blade split into a flurry of slashes, the petals exploding outward in a storm that cut apart the gravity well itself. The tidal pull shattered, fragments of steel shredded into dust as Ginshimo struck upward. The two forces met—Scarlett's greatsword crashing down, Ginshimo's petal storm surging up. The clash detonated.
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
The sky went white as magnetic flames and razor petals collided, ripping open a maelstrom above the sea. The resulting shockwave blasted outward, splitting waves for miles and hurling ships aside like toys. Scarlett emerged from the explosion, her black armor smoking, a manic grin hidden beneath her helm.
"You're fun, Admiral! I might keep you alive when I take this sea for myself!"
She thrust out her hand, and the greatsword disassembled instantly, fragments swirling around her like orbiting blades.
"Magnet Construct: Iron Tempest…!"
The shards shot forward, a storm of spinning blades, each one charged with magnetic force strong enough to rip islands apart. Ginshimo inhaled deeply. His hand rested calmly on his sheath. And then—
"Ittōryū: Seigetsu no Mai…!" ("One-Sword Style: Dance of the Clear Moon")
A single step. A single draw. The storm of blades halted midair, split apart into harmless fragments before they could reach him. His slash painted the sky in silver arcs, carving through every projectile with graceful precision.
****
The clash in the skies above was a cataclysm all its own—Scarlett's iron knight form wreathed in magnetic lightning, dueling Admiral Ginshimo's blade strokes that split heaven and sea. Yet below, the sea itself had become another battlefield, no less terrifying.
Aokiji stood calmly at the center of chaos, his breath misting as frost spread from his every step. The once-open waters had become an endless blanket of ice, transforming the battlefield into a frozen continent. Waves crashed, only to solidify mid-motion into jagged sculptures. The frozen sea held back the Bloodsteel Pirates' fleet, cutting them off from advancing toward the Celestial Dragon tribute ship.
Yet even in this frozen prison, the enemy was relentless.
"Mochi Gatling…!" Katakuri's arm warped, stretching into dozens of hardened mochi tendrils, each tipped with haki and snapping forward like bullets.
"Arara…" Aokiji sighed, raising one hand lazily.
"Ice Thorn."
The air cracked as an endless volley of ice bullets rained down, each shard glimmering with deadly sharpness. The Admiral's counterfire dwarfed Katakuri's assault in sheer scale, the storm of frozen projectiles blotting out the sky.
For an instant, it seemed certain the Charlotte siblings would be overwhelmed—until Katakuri's eyes glowed with future sight. He shifted fluidly, twisting his massive frame as he slammed a palm against the frozen ground.
"Nagare Mochi…!"
The biscuit soldiers Cracker had spawned—hundreds, no, thousands—crumbled apart around them. But instead of vanishing, their shattered forms melted into sticky mochi under Katakuri's awakened control. Like a tidal wave, the mochi surged upward, forming a massive dome infused with haki. The torrent of ice bullets slammed into the barrier.
BOOOOOM!
The frozen dome shuddered as ice cracked and mochi hissed under the strain, but it held. The shockwave rippled across the frozen sea, tossing broken ships like toys.
Aokiji's brows furrowed slightly. He's using Cracker as an infinite mochi factory… clever.
Katakuri's awakened ability was formidable but limited—he needed existing surroundings converted to mochi to manipulate. Against someone like Aokiji on the open sea, his options should have been minimal because the endless ice upon which they stood was already Aokiji's domain.
Yet with Cracker endlessly spawning biscuit soldiers, Katakuri had the perfect resource. Every broken warrior became more ammunition, more raw material for his awakened powers.
Aokiji exhaled, his breath freezing in the air. "Troublesome…"
"Troublesome?" Cracker sneered, riding atop one of his biscuit knights. "You're already buried!"
"Pretzel Roll!" Cracker's twin blades whirled, and an army of armored biscuit soldiers surged forward. Each knight wielded shields and swords of hard biscuit, infused with haki, their sheer numbers blotting out the icy horizon. The frozen battlefield trembled as the horde charged.
Aokiji raised his hands. "Ice Age."
The world turned white. The charging army froze mid-motion, locked in place as ice surged outward from Aokiji's body. Thousands of biscuit soldiers became brittle statues, their momentum halted in an instant. Cracks splintered through their bodies before they shattered with a chorus of breaking glass. But Katakuri had already moved.
"Mochi Tsunami…!"
The shattered remains of Cracker's army flowed like liquid, transformed instantly into a rolling tide of haki-hardened mochi. It surged across the frozen plain, devouring everything in its path and racing toward the Admiral.
Aokiji braced, but Katakuri was already there—his massive body flickering into view, trident gleaming with haki.
"Mogura Thrust!"
The strike pierced forward like a cannon shot, aimed straight for Aokiji's chest. For once, the Admiral moved quickly. His body shattered into frost and mist as the trident stabbed through him, reforming a dozen meters away.
But Aokiji was already moving, reforming from frost and mist as though the last attack had never touched him. His expression remained impassive, though the faint gleam in his eye betrayed calculation. This time, he did not aim at Katakuri. His hand swept outward, palm glowing with frigid energy.
"Ice Block: Pheasant Beak…!"
From the Admiral's hand erupted a massive ice phoenix, its wings spread wide, its body sharpened into a lance of death. Frost trailed behind it in a storm of razor shards, the beast screeching as it tore through the frozen battlefield. It flew straight for Cracker.
The Biscuit Commander's eyes widened. His arms flailed, trying to conjure more biscuit knights in a desperate shield, but the phoenix shattered them with ease. His mouth opened to curse, to scream, to dodge—too late.
"Damn it—!"
But before the ice bird could consume him, Katakuri was there. In a blur of movement, the towering figure of the Mochi Commander appeared between Cracker and the incoming phoenix. His arms crossed over his chest, his entire frame glowing pitch-black with armament haki so dense it shimmered. The ground beneath him cracked from the sheer pressure. The phoenix struck.
BAAAAAAANG—!!!
The explosion of ice and haki lit the frozen sea like a second sun. Shards of frozen air detonated outward, carving fissures across the battlefield. For a moment, the force pressed Katakuri back, his massive frame grinding against the ice, frost climbing up his body.
Then, silence. A statue of frozen mochi stood in the wake of the phoenix. Aokiji's eyes narrowed. Got you.
But before he could even shift his stance, cracks splintered through the ice. The frozen shell exploded outward in a shower of shards, revealing Katakuri still standing, his arms lowered, his body steaming where frost had clung moments before.
Incredibly—he was still moving. Still fighting. Only faint patches of frost clung to his body. He had tanked the Admiral's full strike.
"…Arara." Aokiji's breath misted as his frown deepened. His gaze sharpened, analyzing every twitch, every line of muscle in Katakuri's massive frame.
To most, it would have looked like nothing more than haki mastery. But Aokiji had been fighting the Charlotte siblings since this battle began. He had seen the way Katakuri's body absorbed punishment, the way Cracker's frame endured blows that should have shattered bones.
Their resilience was abnormal. Their records within the World Government archives did not account for this level of endurance. Even Big Mom's children, powerful as they were, had always been vulnerable in ways their mother was not.
But these two…
Katakuri's muscles did not merely resist. They rebounded, absorbing impact like rubber but with the density of steel. His skin hardened under haki, yet even without it, there was a strange elasticity, an unnatural durability. And Cracker, though weaker, had withstood direct frost strikes that should have frozen him solid in seconds.
Aokiji's mind was already racing. Linlin's infamous "Iron Balloon" physique…? Impossible. That trait was unique to her, the product of something even Vegapunk never unraveled. Yet these siblings… they're mimicking it. No—more than mimicking. They've inherited it.
His frown deepened. The World Government tried for decades to replicate her resilience through experimentation, cloning, even splicing. Every project ended in failure. But here they are, her children—walking answers to the puzzle.
Aokiji's eyes flickered to Katakuri, who still stood protectively in front of Cracker. The Mochi Commander's gaze burned back, sharp and unflinching. The Admiral spoke quietly, his tone edged with suspicion.
"…Since this battle began, you've been different. Not just stronger. Tougher. Harder to break. Just like her." His breath fogged in the cold air. "Charlotte Linlin's blood really does run thicker than the seas, doesn't it? Care to tell me how you guys managed to inherit your mother's infamous trait…?"
Katakuri said nothing. His silence was louder than any denial. Cracker, on the other hand, barked laughter, though his voice was strained. "Hah! You think you've figured something out, Admiral? Don't flatter yourself. You won't live long enough to write it in a report!"
Katakuri only raised his trident again, haki burning along its length, his posture calm and immovable despite the frost still steaming from his body. Aokiji's frown never wavered. His mind was made up.
Something is happening with these siblings. Something the World Government does not know… and perhaps does not want to know. If their durability truly mirrors Linlin's, then what stands before me isn't just two strong pirates. It's a nightmare that can rival their mother herself if given enough time to grow.
The Admiral shifted his stance, cold mist swirling around him as ice crackled louder underfoot. His voice, still calm, carried across the frozen battlefield like a death sentence.
"…Arara. Looks like I can't hold back anymore."
The temperature plummeted as frost poured from his body, the ice beneath him spreading with unstoppable force. The sea itself groaned under the strain as the battle escalated once again.
Aokiji rubbed the back of his neck, impressed as he scanned the rest of the Charlotte siblings who were fighting against the vice admirals and the Cipher Pol agents.
"I see that more than a few have inherited your mother's physique too, huh? That durability… that power… feels exactly like her 'Iron Balloon' trait. But it feels like not everyone has inherited it to the same degree as you have…have they?" His eyes narrowed, cold and sharp, toward Katakuri, who was already converting more biscuit soldiers into mochi.
"The World Government spent decades trying to recreate that. Yet here you are, carrying it naturally. Interesting." Katakuri's jaw tightened. He said nothing.
Cracker laughed wildly from behind. "Don't think too hard about it, Admiral! Just die already!"
Another army of biscuit soldiers surged forward, the ice crunching beneath their march. Aokiji exhaled again, his aura of frost deepening. With a single step, the ground ruptured into jagged ice spikes, impaling dozens of biscuit soldiers at once. His arm swung, and an ice saber formed instantly in his hand, cleaving through the constructs like butter.
Yet every time he destroyed them, Katakuri transformed the rubble into more mochi. It was a war of attrition—and the Charlotte brothers had found a way to match an Admiral blow for blow.
"Blade Bullet!" Katakuri's arm transformed again, firing a blitzkrieg of hardened mochi pellets.
"Ice Lance." Aokiji countered, hurling spears of frost that detonated in the air.
The sky filled with explosions as mochi and ice collided, raining shards and sticky sludge onto the battlefield below. The Admiral's gaze flickered. Katakuri's attacks weren't just random fire—they were aimed to herd him, push him, force his movements into a predictable pattern.
Then he saw it—Cracker's biscuit army closing in behind him. The trap snapped shut. Thousands of biscuit soldiers collapsed at once, their bodies liquefying into mochi under Katakuri's control. In an instant, Aokiji stood on an island surrounded by a churning sea of mochi, a prison designed to engulf him whole.
Katakuri thrust his trident down. "Peerless Donuts: Mogura Barrage!"
Donuts opened in the air around Aokiji, mochi arms bursting forth, each wielding hardened spears that stabbed with blinding speed. The sea of mochi surged, trying to swallow him whole.
Aokiji's eyes sharpened. His body glowed pale blue, frost radiating outward in every direction.
"Ice World…!"
The mochi froze instantly. Every tendril, every wave, every biscuit knight—all solidified in a flash of frost. Katakuri's spears halted mid-thrust, encased in crystalline ice. The frozen world stretched for miles, a glittering wasteland of white.
"So… you want to overwhelm us with numbers, is that it?"
Aokiji's voice carried across the frozen sea, quiet yet cutting through the chaos like a blade of ice. His hands remained in his pockets, his posture relaxed, but his gaze was sharp, scanning the battlefield with the precision of a hawk. Observation Haki stretched outward, every heartbeat, every tremor on the battlefield mapped out in his mind.
Above, Scarlett's magnetic titan clashed with Ginshimo's blade in a storm of metal and steel, their duel splitting the skies themselves. But down below… the picture was different.
Though the Marine Admirals and Vice Admirals held their ground against the Bloodsteel Pirates' elite, the sheer difference in numbers was grinding away at the World Government's forces. The tribute ship's defenders fought desperately, their line strained and breaking. The pirate fleet, larger and more relentless, pushed harder with every passing moment.
Aokiji exhaled, mist curling from his lips like smoke. His half-lidded eyes remained calm, but the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Let's even the numbers, shall we…?"
The instant he bent his knees to leap skyward, Katakuri's eyes widened in alarm. His vision flashed with a future painted in frost and death.
"—Smoothie!" Katakuri roared, his voice booming across the battlefield. His hand shot out, seizing Cracker by the arm and dragging him back without hesitation. "Pull everyone back! NOW!"
The urgency in his tone brooked no argument.
Charlotte Smoothie, locked in a clash with a Vice Admiral, didn't hesitate. With one fluid motion, she disengaged, her towering frame already retreating as she bellowed across the fleet.
"Fall back! All units—retreat, NOW!"
The sea groaned. The temperature plummeted. Aokiji hovered midair, his breath exhaling mist that rolled like storm clouds. The Hie Hie no Mi's chill was no longer restrained—it was absolute, suffocating. His hand slipped from his pocket, extending outward, palm open as though pressing down on the world itself.
"Frozen World: Hellwinter…"
The sea screamed as his power erupted. From his body poured an endless surge of ice, not a wave but a tsunami of frost, engulfing the ocean in every direction. In mere seconds, the once-blue sea was shackled under a prison of ice so thick it devoured entire batleships. Masts splintered, sails froze mid-billow, crews who hesitated for even a heartbeat were caught mid-motion, their screams cut short as frost sealed over their bodies.
The very air froze. A horizon of white consumed the battlefield.
Bloodsteel pirates scrambled desperately, but most were too slow. Their ships, once a relentless tide, became glittering tombs locked in crystal-clear ice. The unlucky ones—those who hesitated, those who dared challenge fate—were statues now, their final expressions immortalized in frost.
Even Katakuri's awakened mochi writhed under the onslaught, hardening into brittle white ice. He fought furiously, dragging Cracker across the battlefield with brute strength, forcing mochi tendrils to push them away from the spreading frost. But even his foresight faltered before the sheer scale of what Aokiji unleashed.
The Bloodsteel Pirates' retreat became a desperate scramble for survival.
On the Marine side, the soldiers stared in awe, their enemies' overwhelming numbers suddenly halted. Ships that moments ago bore down like wolves were nothing more than frozen wreckage, their masts jutting like gravestones from the sea of white. The tide had shifted in an instant.
Aokiji descended slowly back to the frozen ground, his breath curling in the silence that followed. His boots crunched against ice that stretched endlessly, turning the battlefield into his dominion.
"…Arara," he muttered casually, as though he hadn't just turned the sea itself into an execution ground. His half-lidded eyes swept over the field, his aura chilling enough to make even the seasoned veterans of the Bloodsteel Pirates hesitate. "That should be enough to buy us some breathing room."
The truth was obvious to everyone: this was not a man who rose to Admiral by title alone. This was power—the kind of overwhelming authority that bent the battlefield to his will with a single move.
Katakuri straightened in the distance, steam rising from his frost-bitten arms. His jaw was clenched, his gaze never leaving the Admiral. The siblings had survived—for now. But the cost was written across the battlefield in frozen corpses and shattered fleets.