Chapter 55: Whitebeard Fleets.

"Portgas D. Ace bears the most dangerous bloodline—he is the son of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger!"

On the execution platform, flanked by two executioners, Ace knelt in chains, his body battered and bruised. His head was bowed, as though accepting his fate.

Marshal Sengoku stepped forward onto the platform. A tall figure stood beside the condemned man, and a soldier handed Sengoku a Transponder Snail.

Broadcasting to the entire world, the Navy declared the identity of the prisoner and the purpose behind this public execution.

"The Navy will never allow another Roger to rise, even if it means going to war with Whitebeard!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than countless pirate ships emerged through the thick fog like silent beasts of the night.

The 43 pirate crews allied with Whitebeard, comprising a total of 50,000 pirates, had arrived to rescue Ace with overwhelming force.

Suddenly, water surged within the bay as the Whitebeard fleet breached the Navy's inner defenses.

The main ship, Moby Dick, along with three companion vessels, carried all captains and the full strength of the 16th division—1,600 men—into the fray.

Standing tall at the bow was Edward Newgate, Whitebeard himself, the strongest man in the world. He raised his voice across the battlefield.

"Gurarara... Hold on just a little longer, my son!"

With a thunderous slam, Whitebeard drove his naginata into the deck, crossed his arms, then brought them crashing to either side with devastating force.

As though he had pressed the world's self-destruct button, cracks spread out from his fists, shattering the very air.

For a brief moment, there was silence. Then came the roar of the sea as monstrous tsunamis rose on either side of Marineford.

Staring in awe, hundreds of thousands of Marines froze, overwhelmed by the towering thousand-meter waves—too stunned even to flee.

On the pirate side, Whitebeard's overwhelming power became a war drum that drove his men into a full charge toward the Navy.

"Ice Age!"

Just as the waves threatened to engulf the island, the Admirals took action. Admiral Aokiji shot into the sky, soaring 100 meters high.

With subzero cold coursing through his body, he spread his arms wide. Long chains of ice extended from them, lancing into the incoming waves.

In seconds, the entire bay was transformed. The tsunamis froze solid, forming two towering glaciers.

As the frozen tide settled, a black figure leapt from the square. One of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, Dracule "Hawk-Eyes" Mihawk, raised his black blade—Yoru.

"Let's see how far apart we are, Whitebeard."

With a single swing, Mihawk unleashed the world's strongest slash—an arc of sword energy flying across the battlefield like a crescent moon.

Whitebeard remained unmoved. But before the slash could strike, a diamond glimmer flashed in midair.

Joz, the Third Division Commander, transformed his body into diamond and blocked the attack with the world's hardest armor, dispersing the sword energy instantly.

Even Mihawk was surprised.

Joz landed lightly and slammed his hand into the frozen ground, tearing out a massive boulder the size of a ship.

He charged forward and hurled it toward the execution platform, intent on demolishing it with a single throw.

But before the stone could get close, intense heat swept across the air.

"Great Eruption!"

Admiral Akainu's right arm turned into molten magma. His flaming fist expanded mid-flight and obliterated the boulder in a single fiery explosion.

Chunks of flaming rock, now like meteors, rained across the battlefield, setting both Marines and pirates ablaze without discrimination.

As titans clashed in the sky, another force of destruction approached from the ground—the massive figure of Little Oars Jr., a descendant of the ancient race of giants.

Crushing Marines beneath his feet, Little Oars surged toward the execution platform, bulldozing everything in his path.

Just as his giant hand reached for the platform, an invisible force sent him flying back.

On the sidelines, Bartholomew Kuma lowered his palm expressionlessly. Nearby, Donquixote Doflamingo grinned wickedly, his fingers twitching.

Silken threads glinted as they sliced through the air. In the blink of an eye, Oars Jr.'s leg was severed. Blood erupted from the wound as he collapsed.

As his massive form toppled, the shadows around him moved.

Moria saw his chance. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a deadly technique.

"Shadow Asgard: Shadow Lance!"

A spear formed from writhing shadows pierced Oars Jr.'s chest. The giant's eyes locked on Ace's. He reached out one last time toward the platform… and fell.

His outstretched hand touched nothing.

With the fall of Little Oars Jr., the pirates' assault was broken again. The battlefield slipped into a deadly stalemate.

Gunfire, blades, and flames turned the ground into a graveyard. Pirates sacrificed themselves in wave after wave to advance just a little closer.

"Is all of this… really worth it for me?"

For Ace, the brutal truth of the battle was far worse than pain. Comrades who once fought beside him were dying before his eyes.

All he could do was kneel there, bound and helpless, watching them fall—one after another.

The crushing guilt and regret twisted in his heart. He hated himself for being the cause of such bloodshed. But there was nothing he could do.

And high above—where no one could see—those vanishing lives rose skyward.

At the top of Marineford's tallest tower, the aura of death and life converged around a silent figure.

There sat Iggy, the Avenger.

Calm and still, he watched the battle unfold far below.

Waiting.

For the right moment to strike.

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