Marco was momentarily at a loss for words, unsure whether to call these pirates naive or simply too straightforward. Cutting down another Marine, he spoke calmly but firmly.
"This isn't really a trick," he explained. "If we want more people to make it back to the New World alive, sacrifices are unavoidable. But if we keep running blindly, those sacrifices will be meaningless."
His eyes swept across the battlefield.
"The timing, the terrain, and the numbers—all of it favors the Marines. The only thing we have left is our resolve. We fight with our lives on the line. Only then will the Marines hesitate. After all, anyone would be wary of an enemy who isn't afraid to die."
Jozu listened intently and nodded.
Marco continued, his tone steady. "It may look like a dead end right now, but that doesn't mean there's truly no way out. This desperate counterattack is preparation for our eventual withdrawal. And for that… some losses are necessary."
"There's still a way out?" Jozu asked, stunned. The sea was frozen solid, their ships destroyed—escape seemed impossible.
Marco casually cut down another Marine and replied, "We still have a paddle steamer hidden on the seabed."
Jozu's eyes widened. "Right! I forgot about that!"
Besides the Moby Dick, the Whitebeard Pirates still had four auxiliary ships—one of which had never surfaced.
Hope sparked in Jozu's eyes as he looked at the frozen ground beneath his feet. "Then I'll smash the ice right now! If I break it, the ship can surface, right?"
"No," Marco said immediately, stopping him. "Not yet."
Jozu froze. Marco continued, voice low and resolute. "I've just managed to ignite everyone's fighting spirit. Let them crush the Marines' morale a little more. We retreat only after the Marines are truly afraid."
Jozu hesitated. "But if we wait too long—"
Marco glanced at him, expression cold and unyielding. "Everyone who stepped onto this battlefield knew they might die. This isn't the time for mercy. A benevolent man can't command troops, and a righteous man can't manage wealth. Even if it's a one-for-one exchange, as long as we frighten the Marines enough, we'll have a chance to survive."
Jozu blinked. "…What does that saying mean?"
Marco paused, staring at him as if he'd seen something truly unexpected. "You don't know?"
Jozu scratched his head awkwardly. "Well… you know me, Marco. I didn't get much schooling. And I don't really read the papers either."
Marco fell silent, momentarily stunned. He knew literacy wasn't exactly widespread in the world—but he hadn't expected even the Third Division Commander to be like this.
Trying to save face, Jozu hurriedly added, "I don't know the saying, but I get the idea. Basically, we can't back down now. We fight them to the end, right?"
Marco finally smiled. "Exactly."
Without another word, the two plunged back into the sea of Marines.
Jozu charged ahead like a rampaging beast, while Marco followed close behind, finishing off fallen enemies with ruthless precision. Bodies fell one after another.
Marco briefly glanced at his system panel. After a moment's thought, he invested the newly gained points into Strength once more. He had already decided—once his strength broke past ten thousand, he'd begin reinforcing other attributes.
The allocation finished.
At that moment, Marco's Strength had climbed to 8033 points.
Marco turned to Jozu and spoke in a low voice, making sure he was heard.
"By the way, Jozu—let me explain the plan in advance. Originally, I intended to have Ace melt the ice so the paddle steamer hidden beneath the sea could surface, and then we'd retreat by ship. But given Ace's condition, that won't happen anytime soon. So this falls to you."
He fixed Jozu with a serious look.
"And simply smashing the ice won't be enough. You'll have to push the ice away, just like before. Can you manage that?"
Jozu's lips curled into a confident grin.
"Don't worry about it! Even without my right hand, moving a chunk of ice like that won't be a problem. Just watch me."
"I said don't rush," Marco cut in again.
Jozu paused, puzzled. Marco's gaze shifted toward the distant battlefield, where Whitebeard was still fighting, and his voice grew heavy.
"The timing isn't right yet. We wait."
Marco scanned the chaos around them. Marines and Pirates were locked in savage combat, both sides fighting with bloodshot eyes. Pirate casualties were even heavier than before—once they realized escape was impossible, many chose to fight with the resolve of taking an enemy down with them, even if it meant dying.
The Marines were no different. Seeing comrades fall one after another had stripped away fear. They no longer thought of arresting pirates—only of killing them in revenge.
The battlefield had become a true meat grinder, endlessly devouring lives.
Some pirates seized the chaos to flee. Though the sea had been frozen into a vast ice continent, ships were no longer an option—but legs still were. If they had the endurance, there was a slim chance of reaching Sabaody on foot.
As the fighting dragged on, the ice was dyed red with blood—Marine and Pirate alike. The dead on both sides had already exceeded ten thousand, yet those still standing continued to fight. It was a scene of unrelenting tragedy.
"W–wuwuwu… ahhh! No…!"
Nearby, Coby had collapsed to his knees, clutching his head and sobbing uncontrollably. His timid nature had made him slower to advance than the others—and that hesitation had saved his life. Now, staring at the battlefield, he felt as if he were gazing into hell itself.
"Coby! Coby, are you okay?!" Helmeppo shouted, rushing to his side.
Coby covered his ears, tears streaming down his face.
"It hurts… it hurts so much! The screams—they won't stop. They're echoing in my head!"
"What are you talking about? There are no screams!" Helmeppo yelled, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Get up! We need to leave—this war isn't meant for people like us!"
They weren't the only ones. Across the battlefield, weaker Marines and Pirates alike were breaking under the weight of the slaughter. The sheer cruelty of the war threatened to crush their spirits completely.
At Marineford, it was a clash between legends—Fleet Admiral Sengoku, Admiral Akainu, and the strongest man in the world.
Out on the frozen sea, it was a storm of monsters—commanders battling Admiral Kizaru, Jinbe and Crocodile facing Admiral Aokiji.
And caught between them all, the ordinary soldiers—Marine and Pirate—were no more than ants, liable to be crushed at any moment.
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