Sizzle!
Magma burned across the frozen battlefield, hissing and crackling against the ice with a scorching roar.
Flames of molten rock surged everywhere, turning the magical ice plain into an infernal arena of violence.
Bang!
A massive foot slammed down from above, crushing an immense pool of burning magma beneath the ice like it was nothing more than a discarded ember.
Rumble…
Rumble…
The frozen ground shuddered violently, and a towering figure strode forward, crushing every Marine who stood in his path into a bloody pulp.
"Fire! Quickly stop that colossal monster!"
"If he breaks into the plaza, our lines will collapse!"
"Ow! You pests hurt so much!"
The hulking figure — far larger than even a Giant — surveyed the Marines firing on him with cold, unflinching eyes.
Boom!
A massive hand descended, sweeping aside every Marine within reach, sending them flying through the air.
"Ahhh!"
"He's too massive! How do we even fight someone like that?"
"This guy's strength… unbelievable!"
Marines watched in stunned helplessness as their comrades were flung with ease, swords and guns barely enough to scratch the giant's skin.
"Move aside! We'll stop him!"
Marine Giant commanders charged ahead without fear.
"Hah!"
"Die!"
"I will stop you here!"
The three Marine Giant Vice Admirals — Lacroix, Ronse, and John Giant — roared as they charged, blades held high.
Bang!
Bang!
The three surrounded the colossal figure known among the pirates as Little Oars Jr., swinging massive sharp swords meant to fell monsters.
Bang!
Crack!
Snap…
But to Little Oars Jr., weapons that seemed like divine armaments to ordinary people appeared like mere toys. With a single casual sweep of his own massive blade, he shattered every weapon the three Vice Admirals wielded.
"Don't block my way! I'm going to save Ace! Get lost!"
With annoyance in his voice, Little Oars Jr. swung his giant weapon and sent the three Marine Giant Vice Admirals flying through the air.
Boom!
They crashed into the distance, fates unknown.
Marine morale plummeted instantly.
"Vice Admiral Lacroix and the others couldn't even last a few exchanges?"
"With strength like that even against the strongest Vice Admirals, what chance do we have?"
"Don't be afraid! Fire at his joints! With a body that massive he can't dodge cannon fire!"
"Oz, you brute! If you charge recklessly like that you'll become a target!"
Whitebeard watched from atop his flagship, brow furrowed as Oz strode alone into the chaos.
"You there, don't let that idiot go too far alone. Cover him!"
"Yes, Father!"
The Whitebeard Pirates shouted as one, charging forward to support Oz in his reckless advance.
…
Crack!
"Damn it, it broke at a time like this…"
A black‑haired pirate stared in dismay as his longsword splintered in his hands. In enemy territory, losing a trusted weapon often meant losing one's life.
"Die, pirate!"
Pfft!
The golden‑haired Marine from before had broken the pirate's blade and, under the pirate's horrified gaze, he swung again — severing the pirate's head cleanly.
…
The severed head flew through the air, deep red blood and white steam splattering over the ice before landing stiffly with a thud.
Its momentum carried it further, and it rolled with a sickening "gurgle, gurgle."
Splat!
A nearby Marine and pirate trampled it into a bloody smear amid the chaos of battle.
"Oh no…"
The victorious golden‑haired Marine stood clutching his bloodied longsword, unharmed but without a smile.
"So huge… so tall!"
He instinctively took two steps back, eyes darting upward at the immense Giant who loomed not two dozen paces away.
"He's even taller than our Marine Giant commanders. How are we supposed to fight something like that? With mere human lives?"
Brother!
Suddenly he remembered his idiotic sibling and frantically searched the ice battlefield for him.
Where is he? That guy always charges ahead and never knows when to stop or strategize.
Across the ice plain, besides the Marine Vice Admirals, there were almost no Marines left in that direction.
If his brother had wandered too far ahead, with no allies around, he would already be dead.
But after searching thousands of meters of ice, he could find no trace of him.
"Die, Marine!"
Crack!
A pirate swung his own blood‑stained longsword and drove the stunned Marine into the thick of brutal close‑quarters combat.
"Don't cause trouble!"
The golden‑haired Marine snarled, glaring at the attacker, but his blade was met and parried by the pirate's hefty saber. With a roar he plunged forward again.
Though he had a tendency to slack off, his combat strength was no joke — anyone selected to come to Marineford had proven themselves in battle.
…
In the VIP viewing area, far above the chaos…
"Many have already died…"
Shirogai Yamikuro narrowed his eyes as he watched corpses litter the frozen ice field, casually tossing an unripe, slightly reddish fruit in his hand.
His voice was eerily calm, emotionless as it drifted through the air.
"But it's not enough. More deaths are required, more carnage to give this grand banquet an even more magnificent finale…"
He smiled, but it was a chilling kind of smile, impossible to fathom.
His thin lips curved as his voice lingered, drifting into the hearts of everyone on the battlefield.
"Kill every enemy in front of you, leave none alive…"
A fish‑red aura seemed to permeate the entire battlefield.
…
By now large swathes of the ice were stained dark with blood. Countless pirates and Marines lay dead on the frozen plain, but neither side paid them much heed anymore.
In everyone's eyes there was only one thing — the opponent's life.
"Kill! Rescue Captain Ace!"
"Idiotic pirates! Die!"
The slaughter did not cease, it grew fiercer as casualties increased.
"Kill!"
No one knew when it began.
"Kill!"
Gradually a thin mist of bloodlust clouded every fighter's gaze.
Adrenaline surged, drowning rational thoughts. Instinct overtook reason.
"Kill!"
They fought like beasts, driven by primal urges to slaughter anyone not on their side.
Pfft!
Crimson sprayed everywhere, staining both Marines' white coats and pirates' bandanas.
Many Marine uniforms once pristine with justice were now deeply soaked with blood — not only from enemies but from comrades as well.
In this brutal meat‑grinder of a battlefield, squads of three or five clashed against waves of foes, only to see trusted teammates fall again and again.
By the end of the fighting, the blood on their backs would likely be from comrades long gone.
Pfft…
A Marine pulled a knife from the belly of a pirate, only to expose an ugly mess of organs and rot that filled the air with a foul stench.
"Damn pirate! Rotten guts, smells worse than hell!"
He wiped sweat and blood from his brow, then rasped to his teammate behind him:
"How are you holding up? Can you still fight?"
Pfft!
The Marine's eyes widened as he slowly looked down.
"I…"
Two sharp blades — one long, one short — protruded from his chest.
The longer blade twisted viciously inside.
"Wuwu…"
Saliva and blood gushed from his lips, cutting off his strained words.
Pfft!
The Marine was kicked aside, landing blankly atop the pile of pirate intestines he had just slain. He twitched and coughed blood, foam and viscera mingling, before his body finally stilled.
"His guts are out, smelling worse than a slaughterhouse… seems Marine shit isn't fragrant either!"
Two nearby pirates sneered as they wiped their blades, spat, and turned to attack the remaining Marines with sinister grins.
Behind them lay three beheaded Marine corpses.
It turned out that, without the fallen Marine even noticing…
He had already become the last survivor of his squad.