"Marco! What's with all the shouting?!"
Whitebeard's deep voice rumbled like distant thunder, echoing through the valley of cherry blossoms. "It's just Garp! You think I'm afraid of that old bastard?!"
He slammed his sake bowl down, clearly irritated at the interruption. His glare could've split mountains. Marco flinched slightly, realizing he had just ruined a rather important conversation one Roger had been moments away from finishing.
So close! Whitebeard thought bitterly. It felt like reading a novel right at the most exciting part, only for the author to suddenly… stop updating.
Still, he had a faint guess who Roger had been about to mention.
Roger, unbothered, took another sip from his bowl, savoring the mellow taste. "Heh. Still as fast as ever. That's Garp for you."
Whitebeard frowned. "So what now? You planning to turn yourself in while he's here?"
Roger opened his mouth to answer but then his expression twisted in pain.
"Damn it… why now…"
Before Whitebeard could react, Roger collapsed, his body seizing in agony.
"Roger! Hey! Wake up!"
Whitebeard rushed forward, shaking him by the shoulders, only to freeze. Roger's skin burned like fire to the touch.
"This fool…" Whitebeard growled under his breath. "Even with his body in ruins, he still pushes himself like this."
He clenched his fist, then shouted, "Jozu! Vista! Get over here!"
Two figures appeared almost instantly.
"Pops!" they said in unison.
"Take Roger to the ship's doctor. Now!"
"Yes, Pops!"
They lifted Roger carefully and disappeared into the forest.
Whitebeard watched them go, his massive frame trembling slightly not from fear, but from conviction.
"Until you tell me yourself that you wish to surrender," he muttered, gripping his naginata tightly, "I, Edward Newgate, will never hand you over to anyone."
He turned toward Marco. "Notify every division. Prepare for battle!"
"Yes, Pops!"
Whitebeard straightened his back, his white captain's coat billowing behind him as he strode toward the harbor. With each step, the ground cracked under his boots.
At the same time, on the other side of Floral Island, Marine warships anchored offshore. The waves crashed violently against their hulls as Garp stood on deck, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the distant shore.
They hadn't dared dock at the port Whitebeard's destructive power was legendary. Keeping their distance was both a tactical precaution and a silent prayer.
Marines disembarked quickly, forming neat lines along the beach, their rifles trained on the approaching figures of the Whitebeard Pirates.
Then, the ground began to quake.
Thud… thud… thud…
A towering figure emerged from the haze. Six and a half meters tall, his white mustache curled like a crescent moon. Every Marine instinctively recognized him.
The man who could destroy the world with his bare hands.
Edward Newgate Whitebeard, the Strongest Man in the World!
"GARP!!!"
Whitebeard's voice boomed like thunder, shaking the trees and waves alike. His aura exploded outward in a violent surge Conqueror's Haki, unrestrained and merciless.
The air itself screamed.
Within seconds, hundreds of Marines dropped to their knees, eyes rolling back as consciousness fled. Those too weak to endure collapsed like waves breaking against a cliff.
"Damn it, Newgate!" Garp growled through gritted teeth.
But before he could step forward, a wave of heat surged beside him. It wasn't from fire it was from spiritual pressure, raw and unyielding.
Ezra D. Vale stood beside Garp, eyes glowing faintly gold, his presence igniting the air like molten steel.
Their two powers collided Conqueror's Haki against blazing Reiryoku.
The sky screamed.
Lightning crackled as the heavens themselves split open, clouds tearing apart in chaotic spirals.
Garp's eyes widened. "That's… not Haki… It's something else entirely!"
There was no time to analyze it further. Garp grabbed a cannonball the size of his torso, muscles flexing. "Guess I'll warm things up!"
He hurled it like a meteor. "Fist Bone Meteor!!"
The cannonball streaked across the battlefield, howling through the air.
Whitebeard's eyes narrowed. He'd already taken note of Ezra's presence a young man standing beside Garp, exuding a pressure that made even his own Haki waver.
"Ezra D. Vale… what a remarkable young man," he murmured.
Then the cannonball arrived.
"Hmph. Garp, you underestimate me."
He stabbed his naginata, Murakumogiri, into the earth, and both hands began to glow with a shimmering white light the power of the Quake-Quake Fruit.
"Seaquake!!"
The air cracked like glass.
The cannonball disintegrated midair, shattered into dust before it could even explode.
Garp wasn't surprised. It was Whitebeard, after all. The world's strongest man didn't earn his title through rumor.
But the attack had done its job it disrupted Whitebeard's Haki long enough for Ezra to pull back his spiritual pressure.
"Whew…" Ezra exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad, old man. Not bad at all."
Though he spoke lightly, sweat ran down his neck. That brief clash had drained him more than he'd admit.
So that's the might of his Haki… It's like facing a mountain that wants to crush the sky.
"You alright?" Tsuru called from behind, concern in her voice.
Ezra waved her off. "Relax, little bunny. I'm fine."
Her face flushed instantly. "L-little bunny?!"
Ezra froze. "Ah habit. My bad." He sighed. "In my past life, I used to call someone that. Guess it slipped out."
But there was no time to dwell on it. His eyes turned back toward the giant standing at the shoreline.
"Hey, Whitebeard! You sure your body's still holding up? Catching cannonballs now?"
Garp crossed his arms, smirking. "Heh. Don't underestimate me, brat. I've still got plenty of fight left."
The wind howled between them, carrying the scent of salt, steel, and cherry blossoms.
One side burned like a sun of fury.
The other loomed like a mountain of earthquakes.
The clash between generations had just begun.
And as the sky split in two, even the sea seemed to tremble, whispering of an era about to change forever.
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