Perhaps Big Mom truly hadn't reacted in time—or perhaps she simply never imagined that Marco would actually dare to strike her.
The kick landed squarely against her face.
Blood burst from her nose and mouth as her massive body was sent flying dozens of meters, carving a deep trench through the ground before finally skidding to a halt.
"Mama…!"
The Big Mom Pirates stared in disbelief as their invincible mother was kicked away.
Big Mom braced herself with both hands, covering her nose as she slowly sat up. Blood continued to seep between her fingers, dripping onto the ground.
"Mama… Mama is bleeding…"
The shock rippled through the Big Mom Pirates. She was known across the seas as the Steel Balloon—a monster whose skin was harder than steel. Blades and axes had failed to break her defense for decades… yet Marco had drawn blood with a single kick.
"You little brat…"
Big Mom rose to her feet, the pain on her face igniting a rage she hadn't felt in years. Her eyes burned crimson as she sneered viciously. "Your Armament Haki is impressive. It seems you truly are qualified to challenge me."
Her smile twisted into something feral. "Then let me show you what a real Yonko looks like."
"Napoleon. Prometheus. Zeus."
"Yes, Mama…"
The three Homies surged toward her at once. Napoleon was gripped in her hand as Prometheus' raging flames fused into the blade, while Zeus gathered beneath her feet, lifting her into the air. In the next instant, Big Mom shot forward like a living catastrophe.
"Then come!" Marco roared, blue flames exploding from his back as he launched himself to meet her head-on.
Their attacks collided in midair.
The battle erupted with terrifying intensity. In sheer destructive power, Big Mom clearly held the advantage. But Marco had recently awakened his future-seeing Observation Haki, and in that regard, he held the edge—using this clash to further temper and refine his foresight.
The fight became a deadlock.
Marco refused to trade blows recklessly. Big Mom's raw power and defense both surpassed his own, but Marco had his own strengths: overwhelming regeneration and superior Observation Haki. He fought precisely, exploiting openings, striking where he could, and withdrawing before taking fatal damage.
The clash dragged on for more than ten hours.
Marco's attacks struck Big Mom again and again, his externally projected Armament Haki piercing her defenses and leaving her increasingly irritated and worn down.
Big Mom, in turn, landed heavy blows on Marco, smashing him aside time after time.
She was a true juggernaut—a monster with terrifying offense and near-impenetrable defense. Even with Marco's incredible regenerative ability, this was never going to be a quick fight.
Against Big Mom, only a battle of attrition would decide the outcome.
As the battle dragged on, both of their stamina steadily bled away. Though neither bore obvious external wounds, the internal damage was severe. Big Mom's injuries were mostly hidden beneath her ironclad exterior, while Marco—relying on his extraordinary regenerative flames—healed again and again, leaving almost no lasting marks on his body.
"I'm starving…"
After more than ten hours of nonstop combat, Big Mom's massive frame had noticeably slimmed down. She had initially believed that Marco's regeneration would be troublesome, but manageable—something she could simply grind down over time. What she hadn't anticipated was just how frightening Marco's current strength truly was.
His raw offense and defense were inferior to hers, yes—but he possessed future-sight Observation Haki and the ability to fly, making him infuriatingly elusive. Her attacks were powerful but wide and sweeping, with a frustratingly low hit rate. More often than not, she could only land blows when Marco committed to attacking her first.
The Big Mom Pirates watched in stunned silence. None of them had imagined that Marco could fight Mama from daylight into the dead of night without a clear victor. From what they could see, neither side held a decisive advantage.
"Enough! Stop this!"
Big Mom's roar echoed across the battlefield.
Marco hovered in midair, chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. Against Big Mom, even a moment of carelessness could be fatal. Speed wasn't his greatest strength among his attributes, but Big Mom was even slower—her sheer size and lack of flexibility giving Marco the room he needed to kite her relentlessly.
Still, there had been one terrifying moment when she caught him. That single exchange had left Marco badly battered, forcing him to burn through a massive amount of stamina just to heal. From that point on, he'd grown far more cautious.
His usual tactic—trading injuries—worked well against glass cannons, but it was useless against a high-attack, high-defense juggernaut like Big Mom.
After more than ten hours of combat, Marco was exhausted, pushing forward on nothing but sheer willpower. If Big Mom hadn't called a halt, he might have had to do so himself.
He took a deep breath, steadying his breathing, then forced a relaxed expression onto his face. Even if Big Mom saw through the act, appearances still mattered.
"What's wrong, Linlin?" he asked casually.
Big Mom glared at him coldly. "It's already deep into the night. We stop here for today. I'm about to starve."
Marco didn't object. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and asked, "So… a halftime break?"
Big Mom snorted in irritation. "That's right."
Marco nodded. Continuing the fight now would benefit neither of them—he needed time to recover his stamina as well. With a faint smile, he said, "Fine. I won't say I'm bullying an old woman. You decide how long you need."
"Hmph." Big Mom folded her arms. "Tomorrow morning. Seven o'clock. Same place."
"Deal."
With that, the two Yonko turned away from each other, each heading back toward their respective ships—both fully aware that this clash was far from over.
After returning to the Moby Dick, a mountain of food was already waiting. Marco wasted no time on pleasantries and dug in without restraint.
He urgently needed to recover his strength. Watching him eat like a man possessed, the Phoenix Pirates burst into excited chatter.
"Marco, we really didn't expect you to fight Big Mom to a standstill!"
"That's insane! Does this mean you've truly reached Yonko-level strength now?"
"I think it's even more than that! Didn't you notice? That old hag was the one who called for a stop first. She must've been afraid of losing!"
The deck erupted with excitement.
Even if they couldn't precisely measure the strength of a Yonko, everyone understood what that title represented. Big Mom—recognized alongside Whitebeard—was known throughout the world as the Strongest Woman, a monster who had occupied the throne of a Yonko for decades.
And yet Marco had fought her evenly.
Marco ignored their praise and continued shoveling food into his mouth. His mind felt foggy, his body heavy. All he wanted was to eat his fill and collapse into bed to recover both physically and mentally.
That battle had been anything but easy.
The lack of visible injuries meant nothing—his Devil Fruit merely masked the toll. The drain on his stamina and mental strength was very real.
The next morning, Marco arrived early and resumed the battle with Big Mom.
Armed with the experience of the previous day, both sides were far more cautious. Each had already begun dissecting the other's weaknesses.
Big Mom in particular had changed. Yesterday, she'd fought Marco with a hint of condescension—but after an entire day without gaining the upper hand, she no longer underestimated him. From this moment on, she treated Marco as an equal, not a junior.
As a result, the second day's fight was even harsher.
Big Mom fought at full power.
Fortunately, Marco's Observation Haki continued to sharpen under the pressure, and the two clashed from morning until night without a clear victor once again. By mutual consent, they called another halt, agreeing to continue the next day.
On the third day, both fighters had fully grasped each other's strengths and flaws, and their tactics became far more deliberate.
Yet after two straight days of deadlock, neither side could deny the truth—this was a battle between equals.
With fatigue and accumulated damage weighing on them, the third day was grueling. They paused briefly at midday to eat, then fought until deep into the night before finally retreating to their ships to rest.
By the fourth day, exhaustion was unmistakable.
Three consecutive days of high-intensity combat had taken their toll, and no single night of rest could erase that burden.
In this regard, Marco held a slight advantage. Though visibly uninjured thanks to his regenerative flames, the relentless fighting still left him drained to the bone.
Big Mom, however, had it worse.
Beyond sheer fatigue, the injuries she'd sustained over three days had begun to accumulate. Ordinarily, they would've healed with proper rest—but the nonstop combat prevented recovery. Minor wounds worsened, blood stagnated, and internal damage quietly piled up beneath her iron exterior.
The battle was entering a decisive phase.
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