On the fifth day, the battle between Marco and Big Mom no longer carried the razor-sharp ferocity of the first clash. Their strikes were visibly heavier, their movements slightly dulled.
Several consecutive days of nonstop combat had pushed both of them to the limits of exhaustion.
Even with two pauses during the fight, the battle still dragged on from daylight to nightfall, ending—once again—in a stalemate.
By the sixth day, Marco's Phoenix Devil Fruit began to show its true terror. He had yet to suffer a single lasting injury; only fatigue weighed on him, accumulated from six days of relentless combat.
Big Mom, on the other hand, was in a far worse state. Not only was she exhausted, but the injuries she had taken over the past six days were steadily piling up.
That day, during their clash, Marco finally began to seize a faint advantage.
By the seventh day, the gap became even clearer. Marco's Zoan-type recovery granted him terrifying endurance, allowing him to remain at peak condition far longer than expected.
Big Mom's decline, however, was unmistakable.
Marco could already tell—if this continued, victory would eventually be his.
Big Mom noticed it as well.
Sensing the danger, and unwilling to let the situation spiral further, she abruptly called out,
"Enough, Marco. Let's stop here!"
After seven days and nights of high-intensity combat, Big Mom had no choice but to acknowledge Marco's standing as a true Yonko-level pirate.
Her body and mind were utterly spent. If they continued, the possibility of defeat loomed far too close for comfort.
"Oh?" Marco grinned faintly. "Are you admitting defeat?"
Truthfully, even Marco himself hadn't expected things to go this far.
At the outset, his only goal had been to survive three days against Big Mom without losing—just enough to secure his rewards.
But now?
After seven days of evenly matched combat, he could clearly see it: victory was within reach.
If he defeated Big Mom—one of the veteran Yonkos—his name would shake the seas overnight. His claim to the throne would be unquestionable.
Hearing Marco's words, Big Mom's expression twisted as if she'd swallowed something foul.
She was worried. A loss here would deal a devastating blow to the Big Mom Pirates' prestige.
She snorted coldly.
"Admit defeat? Don't be ridiculous. I admit you have the strength of a Yonko—but I will never concede."
She turned away sharply.
"That's enough for today. We continue tomorrow—seven in the morning."
With that, Big Mom stormed back toward the Queen Mama Chanter, her footsteps heavy with irritation.
Marco glanced at the sky. It was barely past eight in the evening.
Ending the fight this early was unusual—normally, they pushed each other until near midnight before retreating to rest.
Still, Marco didn't mind.
After days of nonstop battle, both sides were completely drained. Even if Big Mom could recover some stamina overnight, her accumulated injuries wouldn't vanish so easily.
And Marco knew it.
Tomorrow, the balance would tip even further in his favor.
On the eighth day, Marco and Big Mom resumed their battle—and just like the day before, Marco gradually seized the upper hand, pressing Big Mom back with growing confidence.
From the sidelines, both the Phoenix Pirates and the Big Mom Pirates watched with mounting tension. Eight days of nonstop combat had pushed both fighters to their limits. Even though Marco now appeared to have the advantage, no one dared declare a victor before the final moment.
By noon, the two combatants halted almost instinctively, taking a brief mid-battle respite. After eating and resting for a short while, they returned to the battlefield once more.
As the fight continued, the shift became undeniable.
Over the course of eight days, Marco—the Zoan-type Devil Fruit user—had progressed from being slightly pressured at the start, to evenly matched, to holding a narrow advantage, and now… actively suppressing Big Mom.
Big Mom was growing increasingly frustrated. Her breathing was heavy, sweat rolling down her face. Neither of them rushed to attack—after fighting this long, both understood that neither could be felled in a single blow. They needed a moment to recover their breath.
Eight days of high-intensity combat, lasting over ten hours each day, was a brutal trial—even for a Yonko.
Grinding her teeth, Big Mom finally spoke, her voice thick with irritation.
"Marco… how about we end this here? Let this battle be a draw."
"A draw?" Marco sneered.
With the advantage firmly in his grasp, his confidence surged. Even he hadn't expected that his first true clash with a Yonko would unfold like this.
He laughed lightly.
"How about you concede instead? Just say the three words—'I concede'. I'll release Katakuri and Snack, and we'll wipe away your harassment of Fish-Man Island. Sounds fair, doesn't it?"
"What a joke!" Big Mom roared, her chest heaving.
How could she possibly agree to such terms? If she uttered those words, her reputation would crumble. The Big Mom Pirates would be torn apart by vultures the moment weakness was shown.
Marco's gaze sharpened.
"Since you won't concede," he said calmly, "then I'll just have to beat you until you do."
Big Mom's face darkened, veins bulging at her temples.
"Don't get arrogant, brat. You're still far too green to make me bow my head."
As she spoke, a pink weapon formed in her palm—and in the next instant, she plunged her hand straight into her own abdomen.
From the sidelines, Smoothie's eyes widened.
"Is Mama… using her lifespan?"
"Lifespan?!" The Phoenix Pirates stiffened. The battle had already stretched eight days. Every known trump card should've been exhausted by now—did Big Mom still have more hidden beneath the surface?
Moments later, Big Mom drew out a writhing, pink mass of soul energy from within herself.
"Three months of lifespan," she declared coldly, "to heal all my injuries."
She opened her mouth and swallowed the soul without hesitation.
Instantly, the power surged through her body, rapidly mending the internal damage that had accumulated over days of combat.
Marco's expression hardened.
He had forgotten about this.
And now, faced with a fully restored Big Mom at the peak of her power, the battle had taken a far more dangerous turn.
Soon, Big Mom—her hidden internal injuries completely restored—let out a long, satisfied breath. Her breathing grew steady once more, the pain that had plagued her for days vanishing in an instant. Although her stamina hadn't fully returned, it no longer mattered. With her injuries healed, fear had no place in her heart.
After all, Marco's seemingly unscathed body was merely the result of his terrifying regeneration. Eight consecutive days of combat had drained him just as thoroughly. In contrast, though Big Mom had paid three months of her lifespan, her accumulated injuries were gone entirely.
"Mama… mama!" Big Mom clenched her fists, savoring the unfamiliar comfort surging through her body. Though she hadn't returned to her absolute peak, her condition had improved dramatically. She laughed loudly, her voice echoing across the battlefield.
"Marco—who was it you said you were going to defeat just now?"
Marco's expression darkened.
Big Mom's smile twisted into something feral.
"I will show you—we relics of the old era aren't so easy to bring down."
She attacked.
Marco braced himself, meeting her head-on—but after only a few exchanges, the shift became obvious. He was being pushed back.
Once Big Mom had burned her lifespan to heal, her strength surged anew. She wasn't back to the monstrous state of the first day, but she was close enough. Her speed sharpened, her blows grew heavier, and each strike carried renewed authority.
"Mama… she really used her own lifespan," Smoothie murmured, staring in disbelief.
Charlotte Opera swallowed hard. "Then… Mama can win now, right?"
"Of course!"
"How could Mama ever lose?!"
"After Whitebeard's death, Mama is the closest pirate alive to the Pirate King!"
"Finish him, Mama!"
The Big Mom Pirates erupted into cheers once more.
Marco was sent flying by a sweeping wave of sword slash, crashing hard before blue flames flared around his body, knitting his wounds together in an instant. Gritting his teeth, he spat,
"Damn it… You're literally shaving years off your life because you can't beat me!"
Big Mom bared her teeth in a savage grin.
"I have ruled the seas for decades—of course I have trump cards! Still, for a newly crowned Yonko to push me this far… You've earned the right to be proud."
Even if she won today, Marco would no longer be treated as a mere upstart—but as an existence standing on the same tier as herself.
Her gaze hardened as she continued, "Now listen carefully. Release Katakuri and Snack, and all grievances between our crews will be erased. I swear, from this day on, the Big Mom Pirates and the Phoenix Pirates will not interfere with each other."
A sharp gleam flashed in Marco's eyes.
He could have ended this on the third day—secured two thousand attribute points, achieved deterrence, and returned to support Jozu and Vista. Rationally, that would have been enough.
But now?
After eight days of blood, exhaustion, and willpower…
Stopping here would feel like a loss.
If he couldn't defeat Big Mom now, wouldn't everything he'd endured be meaningless?
'You can burn your lifespan… and I can burn my points.'
Marco opened the system panel without hesitation, his gaze locking onto the 2,000 available attribute points.
He had planned to save them—wait until he reached 15,000 and awaken the Phoenix Fruit in one leap.
But the battlefield didn't allow for patience.
Without the slightest pause, Marco poured all 2,000 points into stamina.
His stamina surged—from 8,100 to 10,100.
Blue flames roared brighter around his body.
The battle wasn't over yet.
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