The light gradually faded from Momousagi's eyes.
Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her body went limp as consciousness slipped away and darkness swallowed her completely.
"Take her away."
Crocodile lifted his chin slightly, his gaze cold and unwavering. The order was short, but carried an authority that left no room for argument.
Then he turned toward the remnants of the Marine forces still stubbornly resisting in the distance.
Even with defeat staring them in the face, the remaining soldiers continued their desperate struggle. Gunfire and battle cries echoed across the battlefield, but none of it could conceal the fact that the war had already slipped beyond their control.
Crocodile calmly reached into his coat, pulled out a fresh cigar, and lit it.
A thin trail of smoke curled around his face, lending his already cold expression an even more intimidating air.
Two sturdy Guardsmen supported Momousagi from either side and began escorting her toward the Divine Kingdom's lines.
Her legs barely supported her weight, and every step came with a stumble. Exhaustion and injury had stripped away the imposing elegance she had possessed when she first entered the battle.
As they led her away, she managed one final glance over her shoulder.
The sight waiting for her was painful.
Marines who had fought beside her lay scattered across the battlefield, some motionless, others fleeing in panic. Marine flags that had once flown proudly now whipped helplessly in the wind amid the rout.
Pain flashed across her eyes—worry for her comrades, frustration at defeat, and uncertainty over what awaited them all.
But the moment passed quickly.
Even as a prisoner, Gion straightened her back.
She refused to bow her head.
Whatever else had been taken from her, she would at least preserve the last scraps of dignity she possessed as a Marine Vice Admiral.
...
From a distant rise, Momonga was frantically directing the retreat when he witnessed the scene through his binoculars.
His hands tightened around them until his knuckles turned white.
Sweat covered his forehead.
When he saw Gion being dragged away, his hands shook so violently that the binoculars nearly slipped from his grasp.
"Gion…"
His lips trembled.
There was nothing else he could say.
As Momousagi was escorted aboard one of the Divine Kingdom's warships, the enormous vessel seemed almost like a beast swallowing what little hope the Marines had left.
Another Admiral-level combatant had fallen.
The news spread through the surviving Marine forces like a plague.
Their morale had already been devastated by Kizaru's capture and Kuzan's retreat. Learning that Gion had now been taken prisoner as well crushed whatever fighting spirit remained.
Fear and despair filled their faces.
Weapons lowered almost involuntarily.
Crocodile remained where he stood, taking a deep pull from his cigar before slowly exhaling a ring of smoke.
Watching Gion disappear aboard the ship, he murmured,
"Welcome to the new era, Miss Gion."
His voice was quiet.
Yet there was something almost declarative about those words, as though he were announcing the arrival of that new era to the entire world.
...
The battlefield had undergone a staggering series of reversals in only a short span of time.
Kizaru, the Admiral famous throughout the seas for his incomparable speed, had actually been captured alive by Jozu.
Kuzan had suffered severe injuries during his battle with Bullet and been forced to retreat.
And now Momousagi, another of the Marines' Admiral-level fighters, had fallen to Crocodile.
The consequences spread across the battlefield like falling dominoes.
The Marines' situation had deteriorated beyond anything they could have imagined.
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the battlefield, Fujitora and Katakuri remained locked in their own fierce confrontation.
Their figures appeared and vanished through clouds of dust and violent waves of energy, every collision carrying enough power to tear apart the surrounding terrain.
Yet amid that intense battle, something stirred deep within Fujitora's otherwise calm mind.
Though blind, Fujitora had no need for ordinary sight.
His extraordinarily powerful Observation Haki spread across the battlefield like an invisible web, allowing him to perceive the shifts in several of the war's most important clashes with remarkable clarity.
Movement.
Breathing.
Changes in presence.
Every subtle fluctuation formed an image within his mind far more detailed than anything ordinary eyes could provide.
And then he sensed it.
Borsalino's presence had been completely restrained.
The light that had represented one of the Marines' greatest fighting forces had dimmed, trapped like a great bird suddenly locked inside a cage.
A faint change passed over Fujitora's weathered face.
His brow furrowed slightly.
Countless thoughts seemed to move beneath that tiny reaction.
Then, almost imperceptibly, the stern line of his mouth curved upward.
It lasted barely an instant.
Yet there was unmistakable relief within that fleeting smile, mixed with emotions far more complicated.
Almost as though something he had considered many times—and perhaps even quietly hoped for—had finally come to pass.
"Borsalino too…"
Fujitora murmured.
His voice was low, carrying both reflection and resolve.
"If things have come this far… perhaps it really is time to break these rotten chains."
Thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind.
And for the briefest instant, the otherwise seamless flow of his attack faltered.
Fujitora's cane sword was already raised.
A vast gravitational field surrounded him as he prepared to meet Katakuri's incoming attack—a lethal strike wrapped in top-tier Armament Haki and powerful enough to tear through the air itself.
"Power Mochi: Azure Dragon Bite!"
...
This should have been another evenly matched, earth-shaking collision, with both fighters pouring everything they had into a single decisive exchange.
And yet, at the very last instant—
The brilliant gravitational light surrounding Fujitora's cane sword dimmed ever so slightly, as though some unseen force had quietly intervened.
At the same time, the strength behind his attack weakened by a fraction.
It was subtle.
Barely noticeable.
But the unwavering defense he had maintained until now had undeniably changed.
"Hm?!"
Katakuri's brows drew together.
'Something's wrong… Fujitora's defense just weakened.'
His extraordinary Observation Haki was already operating at full capacity, Future Sight processing the countless possibilities of what might happen next with frightening precision.
On a battlefield where everything changed in the blink of an eye, Katakuri's perception spread across his surroundings like an impossibly fine net, catching even the smallest fluctuation.
And now, he had sensed an opening in Fujitora.
But this was no ordinary mistake.
There was something deliberate about it.
For a fleeting instant, doubt flashed through Katakuri's mind.
A man of Fujitora's strength and reputation would never expose himself so carelessly.
But an opening on this level vanished faster than a shooting star.
There was no time to hesitate.
Katakuri's eyes hardened.
Every muscle in his hybrid dragon body tightened as he unleashed the full extent of his power.
His blood surged through his veins, while monstrous strength gathered through every inch of his body.
Then his fist came crashing forward.
The devastating blow tore through the air like a meteor, even fiercer and more violent than before, smashing directly into Fujitora's strangely weakened gravitational field.
The air split around Katakuri's fist with a piercing howl.
Even the surrounding space seemed to tremble beneath the force.
BOOOOM—!
A deafening explosion shook the battlefield.
The gravity field that had previously seemed almost immovable shattered beneath the impact like brittle glass.
Fujitora grunted as his huge body was hurled backward.
The cane sword flew from his hand and spun through the air before stabbing diagonally into the ground, throwing up a cloud of dust.
A thin stream of blood ran from the corner of Fujitora's mouth.
His previously steady presence immediately became disordered and weak.
"Quite impressive…"
Fujitora dropped onto one knee and braced one hand against the ground.
"I never imagined I'd suffer defeat here."
A faint, almost rueful smile touched his face.
"This would count as one of the few losses I've suffered in my lifetime."
"…"
His complexion had become pale, and large beads of sweat rolled down his weathered face.
Anyone looking at him would have assumed he no longer possessed the strength to continue fighting.
Katakuri, meanwhile, lowered his fist.
His white hybrid dragon form stood tall amid the drifting dust, imposing and victorious.
Yet there was no arrogance in his expression.
His deep gaze remained fixed upon Fujitora.
He had understood.
The opening had been deliberate.
Fujitora had given it to him.
Katakuri did not know whether the Admiral had done so merely to test him, or whether there was some deeper plan behind the decision.
But he had no intention of exposing it.
He merely raised his chin slightly and spoke in a calm, respectful voice.
"Admiral Fujitora… thanks for going easy on me."
The words echoed across the battlefield, carrying both confidence and genuine respect.
...
Not long afterward, several trained Divine Kingdom soldiers approached in disciplined formation.
Each carried a specially made set of restraints, their surfaces gleaming faintly with an unusual light.
Fujitora remained still.
He looked like a great statue standing on the verge of collapse, defeated yet somehow retaining the last vestiges of dignity.
The soldiers did not underestimate him for even a moment.
They approached cautiously and wrapped the restraints around his body with careful precision, ensuring he was properly secured without inflicting unnecessary injury.
Fujitora did nothing to resist.
There was no humiliation on his face.
Only quiet, contemplative calm.
And buried beneath that calm was something far harder to notice—
A faint sense of satisfaction.
Everything had unfolded almost exactly as he wanted.
Fujitora had carefully engineered his own defeat.
He had lost cleanly enough to preserve Katakuri's hard-earned victory and allow the latter to claim the glory of defeating a Marine Admiral.
At the same time, it gave Fujitora a respectable way to remove himself from a Marine battlefield that was rapidly collapsing beyond salvation.
And perhaps more importantly—
It gave him an excuse to step away from a position that had long since exhausted him.
The decisive moment replayed clearly in his mind.
Katakuri's fist, combining the tremendous strength of his hybrid dragon form with top-tier Haki, had struck precisely through the opening Fujitora intentionally left behind.
The impact drove his massive body backward.
His steps became heavy and uneven.
His cane sword flew from his grasp and struck the ground some distance away.
Then Fujitora fell to one knee.
Blood slid slowly from the corner of his mouth and dripped into the dust.
His aura weakened until it seemed as though he had completely exhausted his ability to fight.
Seeing that, the Divine Kingdom soldiers acted immediately.
They approached once more, this time carrying heavy Seastone chains.
The cold, solid restraints were wrapped firmly around the wrists of the Admiral who had once shaken entire battlefields with his gravity.
Once.
Twice.
Again and again.
Until Fujitora was completely bound.
And throughout it all, he offered no resistance.
---------
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