Hearing Crocodile's words, guilt flickered across Ace's face. He knew better than anyone that this nightmare had begun with his own stubbornness. If he hadn't chased Blackbeard so recklessly, the Whitebeard Pirates would never have been dragged into this desperate war—and Pops wouldn't have been forced to stake his life to secure their escape.
Now, there was only one thing Ace could do: honor his father's final wish and lead as many people as possible safely back to the New World.
"I will not die here!" Ace shouted at Kizaru, his voice burning with resolve. "My father, Marco, everyone—and Luffy—risked everything to save a hopeless fool like me. Even though I was wrong from the very beginning, they still chose to protect me. For their sake, I have to live!"
His life no longer belonged to him alone. It carried the hopes, sacrifices, and blood of the Whitebeard Pirates. No matter the cost, he had to survive and return to the New World.
Kizaru chuckled in his usual lewd tone.
"That won't do at all~. We Marines also have our reasons for not failing. The entire purpose of this war was to execute you—the man who carries the blood of the Pirate King. If you escape, then for us… this war becomes an absolute failure."
Jinbe stepped forward, planting himself in front of Ace.
"Ace, you go ahead. Kizaru's target is you. We'll hold him back."
Ivankov nodded firmly.
"That's right, Ace BOY! Too many lives have already been lost. You evacuate first—we'll stop him here!"
Luffy grabbed Ace's sleeve, panic in his eyes.
"Ace, please—go first!"
Ace shook his head and gave a bitter smile.
"Even if I wanted to run, where would I go? The sea is frozen solid—there's nowhere to hide. Running blindly won't save us. If there's any chance at all… it's by fighting our way through."
Then his expression softened as he looked at Luffy.
"And besides… if I turn my back now, who's going to protect my little brother?"
With that, Ace pulled Luffy behind him once more, his tone firm and unwavering.
"Luffy, stay back. You've already done more than enough. It's my fault you were dragged into something this dangerous. As your older brother, I will bring you back safely."
"Fire Fist…"
Flames roared to life as Ace launched himself forward, taking the initiative.
"Oh?" Kizaru's body flashed into golden light, effortlessly evading the attack. Sunlight gleamed off his glasses as his smile faded just a little.
"So you're not planning to surrender easily~. Unfortunately for you, I have a mission that simply can't be ignored."
"Ama no Murakumo…"
Golden light gathered in his hand, condensing into a radiant blade.
Jinbe's eyes widened.
"Be careful! Admiral Kizaru is coming!"
—
On another battlefield, Marco and Aokiji continued their clash. Glancing toward Ace's struggle, Aokiji sighed lightly.
"Ara ra… looks like Fire Fist Ace is being completely locked down by Borsalino."
His gaze shifted back to Marco, curiosity in his voice.
"But you… you don't look worried at all. Why is that?"
Marco steadied his breathing and turned his gaze back to Aokiji, his expression grave. Although Aokiji had yet to go all out—still wearing that infuriatingly relaxed demeanor—Marco knew all too well how terrifying the Admiral truly was. Even holding him back demanded everything Marco had.
Following Aokiji's line of sight, Marco looked toward the distant frozen battlefield, where Ace, Crocodile, Vista, Ivankov, Jinbe, and the others were locked in a desperate struggle against Admiral Kizaru.
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Marco's mouth. Then his eyes hardened with resolve as he looked back at Aokiji.
"I trust they can handle Kizaru," Marco said calmly. "My job is to stop you right here. The moment you join that battlefield… Ace and the others will fall into true despair."
He had already done all he could.
Whitebeard was holding Akainu at bay. Marco himself had successfully intercepted Aokiji. That left Ace and the others with only one Admiral to face. If Ace still died under those circumstances, then… it could only be called fate.
And Marco knew his own limits.
Just restraining Aokiji was already pushing him to the brink. If he tried to support Ace, Aokiji would immediately give chase. Marco didn't have three heads and six arms—blocking even one Admiral was already beyond what most could imagine.
A flicker of surprise crossed Aokiji's face. Then he sighed lightly.
"You're really giving this everything you've got," he said lazily.
His tone shifted—subtle, but unmistakable.
"But I won't be held here forever."
In an instant, Aokiji's aura sharpened. The lazy haze vanished from his eyes, replaced by cold focus.
Seeing Kizaru draw the Ama no Murakumo Sword, Aokiji finally decided to get serious as well. He knew that when Borsalino reached for that weapon, it meant things had gone beyond casual skirmishing. This was no longer a time for half-measures.
Marco felt it immediately.
Aokiji leapt forward, frost condensing around his fist midair as Armament Haki surged, compressing the ice into a brutal Ice Gauntlet. With a sharp burst of movement, he used Soru, accelerating like a bolt of white lightning.
"Ice Fist!"
The speed was terrifying—far faster than Akainu's raw charge, leaving behind only an afterimage.
Marco didn't even try to dodge.
His Phoenix flames erupted violently.
"Phoenix Flame…"
Their fists collided with explosive force. In the instant of impact, frost raced up Marco's arm at a frightening pace, freezing flesh and flame alike.
Reacting on instinct, Marco twisted his body and lashed out with a powerful kick.
"Phoenix Claw!"
But just before his foot could connect, a tidal wave of frigid air burst from Aokiji's body. Even with Armament Haki reinforcing him, Marco was overwhelmed. Ice swallowed him whole, freezing him solid in an instant.
In seconds, Marco was encased within a massive ice sphere nearly five meters wide.
Aokiji stared at the frozen Marco, his expression cautious. He knew better than to relax—this wouldn't be enough to restrain Marco for long.
Cold gathered once more in his palm.
"Ice Ball…"
Crack—crack—crunch—
Layer after layer of freezing force poured into the sphere. The ice continued to expand, growing larger and denser, until the five-meter prison became a towering ice mass over twenty meters wide—a miniature glacier rising from the battlefield.
Only then did the freezing finally stop.
The battlefield fell eerily silent.
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