A massive explosion shook the battlefield. The ground beneath Garp and Ayr shattered violently, sending fissures racing toward the distant horizon like claws tearing the earth apart.
The sheer force emanating from their clash was monumental—two titans colliding at the very peak of combat power.
"You're strong, Garp… but still too weak," Ayr said coldly, his tone devoid of emotion.
Garp, the Marine Hero, had trained his body to its absolute peak. His physical strength was legendary, forged from countless battles against the world's fiercest foes.
In terms of raw physical ability, few in the world could compare to Garp—except now, against Ayr… his power paled.
"Damn it!!!" Garp growled, gritting his teeth.
As his fist clashed with Ayr's, a cold sweat broke out on his brow. The impact reverberated through his entire arm—it felt like he had punched an unbreakable wall of solid seastone.
His legendary fists met resistance like never before.
It was as if he were striking the embodiment of indestructibility itself.
"Now!"
A voice rang out from behind Ayr.
Tsuru, her eyes sharp and unwavering, had closed the distance. Her outstretched palm shimmered with the energy of the Wash-Wash Fruit, ready to unleash its cleansing power on Ayr's soul.
She was just one strike away—a breath from contact.
But Ayr didn't panic.
"So predictable," he scoffed.
His body surged with power, a sudden eruption of force that struck Garp like a tidal wave.
"WHOOSH!!!"
The Marine Hero was sent flying—his massive frame hurled through the air like a missile.
He crashed down hundreds of meters away, carving a trench across the island as he skidded.
Ayr's figure then blurred and vanished, reappearing far from Tsuru's reach in an instant—his speed shockingly precise.
He had read her timing perfectly with his advanced Observation Haki.
Though he wasn't entirely sure of the full mechanics of the Wash-Wash Fruit, he understood one critical truth:
He must not allow Tsuru to touch him—not even once.
Even someone like him could be vulnerable to a power that purified malice and sin.
From afar, the Donquixote Pirates, watching the battle unfold, stood in stunned silence.
"Oi, oi... this power is unreal!!!" Torrepol stammered, wiping sweat from his trembling forehead.
He had known Ayr was powerful.
But this?
This was the power of a myth.
Ayr had taken the full shockwave of Sengoku's Great Buddha—a feat only the likes of Whitebeard or Roger might match—and emerged completely unscathed.
He had knocked back Garp, the Marine Hero, as if he were a mere rookie.
He had dodged Tsuru's precise and lethal sneak attack as though it were a child's game.
Although Zephyr hadn't even joined the fray yet, the combined offensive from Garp, Sengoku, and Tsuru had been effortlessly dismantled.
"He's not human…" Pica muttered, swallowing hard.
"This is the strength of the man hailed as the strongest in the world..."
They had all heard tales of Ayr before—his legendary clashes, the fear he instilled in both pirates and Marines alike. But to see it with their own eyes...
This was something else.
Even Doflamingo, arms crossed, remained silent—his usual grin absent.
He had once watched Ayr face off against Gol D. Roger, Rayleigh, and Jabba during the final days in Loguetown.
Even then, Ayr had overwhelmed all three.
That was when Doflamingo understood: this man wasn't just strong. He was the embodiment of chaos itself.
"Is it just me," muttered Diamante, eyes narrowed, "or does it feel like… even the combined might of the four top Marines won't be enough?"
His voice carried the weight of dread.
They weren't just witnessing a high-level battle.
They were witnessing a war already lost.
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