Sengoku saw Aokiji still frozen in place, and a surge of desperate anxiety washed over him.
He knew that every second wasted meant more Marine soldiers would be injured, or worse, killed.
"Aokiji, stop dawdling!" he yelled, his voice strained. "Time is of the essence—every moment we delay, more of our men will suffer!"
Then, Sengoku's gaze fell on the frost covering Aokiji's wounds, the exhaustion etched onto his face, and the lingering blurriness in his eyes from Jozu's earlier attack.
His expression softened slightly, his tone turn gentler.
"Just hold them off as best you can. Reinforcements are on the way. You just need to buy us some time."
Hearing Sengoku's words, Aokiji felt a flicker of reassurance.
He understood there was no other choice.
The Whitebeard Pirates were all monster, each one an incredibly troublesome opponent.
So, he gave a slow, weary nod.
"Alright, I'll go," he said, his voice grim. "But Whitebeard…"
Sengoku sensed Aokiji's concern and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry. I'm not that old yet. Whitebeard will be handled by me and Garp."
With that, Aokiji took a deep breath, steadied himself, and launched into the air with Moon Walk, heading towards the nine rampaging dragons.
Sengoku and Garp exchanged a look—a lifetime of camaraderie and rivalry passing between them in that single, silent glance.
Then, without hesitation, they charged straight at Whitebeard.
"NEWGATE!!!" Sengoku's voice boomed like thunder across the battlefield as he transformed, his body swelling into that of a colossal golden Buddha.
"If you don't want to leave this place," Garp followed, his fists already coated in a thick, menacing layer of black Haki.
"Then you can stay here forever!"
Whitebeard watched the two legends of the Marines charge toward him as a cold, dangerous glint flashing in his eyes.
Despite the searing pain from the wound on his arm, he stood firm, his grip tightening on his massive naginata, the Murakumogiri.
He planted his feet, and the very ground around him seemed to solidify.
"Gurarararara!" Whitebeard's laughter shook the battlefield, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy for the battle to come.
"Sengoku! Garp! Today, I'll fight you both to my heart's content!"
The three titans of the old era finally collided.
A fist infused with the power of a god, another that could shatter mountains and a blade that could crack the very air.
The impact was not a clang of metal but a deafening, reality-bending BOOM that sent a shockwave tearing across Marineford, ripping up the stone plaza and sending soldiers on both sides flying.
The sky above them seemed to splinter under the sheer pressure of their combined Conqueror's Haki.
The true battle for Marineford had begun!
...
While the rest of the world seemed to be tearing itself apart, only Ron and Izo remained where they stood, in a pocket of relative calm.
The reason Izo wasn't joining the battle was simple—he was protecting Ron.
Even though he knew Ron was likely far stronger than him, Izo remained steadfast, carrying out the task Pops had entrusted to him with unwavering loyalty.
Ron looked at the shattered ruins of the Navy building before him and couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle.
"Tsk tsk tsk… It's already been reduced to rubble, and the Summit War hasn't even officially begun. What's going to happen during the actual war?"
Beside him, Izo looked confused.
"Summit War? Ron, what is the Summit War?"
Ron smiled, a knowing, almost melancholic look in his eyes.
"A war that is destined to destroy all of Marineford."
Izo's expression turned to shock. "What?! Marineford gets destroyed?"
"What's the big deal?" Ron said calmly, his gaze fixed on the epic clash between the three legends.
"Isn't it being destroyed right now?"
Izo fell silent for a moment before replying slowly, "…You're right."
Ron's mind drifted.
'The path of this era was supposed to lead to tragedy here,' he thought.
'Whitebeard was meant to fall, his family scattered, his power stolen by that snake, Teach. That event was supposed to mark the end of an era.'
'But this time, it won't happen.'
'History will not repeat itself. Whitebeard will not die here—and even if the worst should happen, he still has seven lives left.'
His gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the unprecedented chaos with the cold, calculating eye of a grandmaster observing a chessboard.
Nine massive dragons were relentlessly attacking Admiral Aokiji.
It was a spectacular sight; Aokiji, a man who could freeze oceans, was completely on the defensive.
He created massive walls of jagged ice, only for them to be instantly shattered by a coordinated blast of fire and wind.
He was being attack from all sides, forced to rely on his freezing abilities merely to slow his opponents, buying precious time.
Elsewhere, Sengoku and Garp were holding off Whitebeard.
But even two-on-one, under Whitebeard's relentless, earth-shattering assault, they were mostly focused on defense, clearly trying to stall and wear the old Emperor down.
Meanwhile, Ace was locked in a fierce, brutal combat with the giant Vice Admiral.
Every exchange between them was a sonic boom, the sound of tearing air showcasing their mastery.
Ron noted with pride that Ace wasn't just relying on his Devil Fruit; he was demonstrating a solid grasp of Armament Haki's fundamentals and was actively trying to push beyond them.
With each punch, Ron could see the Haki flowing.
He was just one step away from a breakthrough.
'Ace's talent for combat far surpasses Luffy's', Ron mused silently.
'As expected of Roger's bloodline.'
Additionally, with the Supernovas now rampaging through the battlefield, a significant portion of the remaining Vice Admirals were tied up dealing with them.
The emergence of these wild cards only added to the chaos.
However, it was clear they weren't content with just stalling.
Ron noticed them deliberately, or perhaps unconsciously, moving closer to his own position.
He frowned slightly.
He wasn't sure what they were planning, but it didn't matter.
"Overall," Ron muttered to himself, his strategic assessment complete.
"We have the upper hand."
The Navy was holding, but their key players were absent.
Former Fleet Admiral Kong wasn't present, and neither was the most ruthless of the Admirals, Akainu.
The other Admiral candidates were scattered across the globe and couldn't return in time.
Thinking of the devastation, Ron couldn't help but smile.
"The Marine headquarters building got blown up. I wonder what expressions the Five Elders will have when they see tomorrow's newspapers."
With that thought, Ron decided it was time to stop observing.
He decisively joined the fray.
His figure darted across the battlefield, a blur of motion.
With each graceful, effortless swing of his unseen blade, he conjured streams of pure Sword energy from thin air.
These blades of energy danced through the battlefield like living, silver creatures, leaving devastation in their wake as they reaped the lives of Marine soldiers.
Though far less refined than the colossal blade he'd unleashed against Sengoku, these were still shockingly potent—more than enough for the current situation.
The Sky-Slicing Sword Technique—nothing it cannot sever.
Even without a physical form, the blades of Haki struck their targets with lethal precision, capable of cutting through the defenses of any opponent whose own Armament Haki was weaker than Ron.
It was a technique that could even sever Haki itself, and with it now unleashed upon the battlefield, the scales of the war began to tip decisively.