One could only imagine what he must have been like in his prime.
Back then, it was likely true—conquering the world would have been no challenge at all, just as the legends claimed.
To be honest, El felt a twinge of envy toward someone blessed with such natural, god‑given power.
He had always been told he was highly gifted himself, a true prodigy in battle.
Yet compared to a true freak of nature like Whitebeard, he still felt as though his own advantages were far less pronounced.
"WALALALALA!"
Whitebeard laughed and shook his head. "I'm past my prime… old age catches up with everyone. But don't go repeating that to the others, eh?"
For both men to end their clash and stand down without further conflict left everyone watching utterly stunned.
Crew members from both sides, as well as the onlookers of Fish‑Man Island, could scarcely believe it.
Two such towering figures, who had seemed ready to fight to the death just moments before, were now parting ways with ease and even a measure of respect.
"Captain… what exactly just happened?" Doflamingo stepped forward, eyeing the Whitebeard Pirates cautiously.
Neither crew was making any aggressive moves. The waters remained calm. Had the two captains reached some kind of agreement during their exchange?
"Nothing out of the ordinary," El replied, shaking his head gently. "Just a friendly exchange of blows."
"A friendly exchange?" Doflamingo did not know what to say.
To trade blows with the Strongest Man in the World and walk away unharmed was already a feat that spoke volumes. But to call it "friendly"?
Looking across the entire Grand Line—no, across all of history—only one man had ever reached that level of equality with Whitebeard: the late Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
---
Meanwhile, the commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates gathered around their captain.
"Pops! Are you all right? Who exactly is that young man?"
The most concerned of them all was Marco the Phoenix, Commander of the First Division.
He had served Whitebeard longer than anyone else, and as the crew's chief medic, he understood better than anyone how his captain's condition had changed.
In the old days, not even a sudden attack from a trusted friend or family member could have left a scratch on him.
Back then, the entire guard surrounding their captain had felt almost unnecessary.
But now, if Marco did not remain constantly vigilant, Whitebeard could indeed be injured.
Even a monster of his caliber could not escape the erosion of time.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" Whitebeard waved his hand.
Though he had not gained the upper hand in this "sparring," his mood was clearly light and satisfied.
Marco noticed this immediately, which was why he did not press further.
"Incredible… truly an incredible young man," Whitebeard murmured, shaking his head.
"Seeing more and more like him rise up makes me feel as though this era is slowly leaving me behind."
"Pops, please don't speak that way," his commanders quickly comforted him.
While there were many rising young pirates with impressive strength, few had ascended as rapidly as El.
And none had yet reached his level of power. He stood far ahead of the so‑called "Worst Generation," leaving them in his wake.
It seemed that from now on, strength could no longer be judged by age alone.
Though in theory, more years brought more experience, sharper combat skills, and deeper mastery of Devil Fruit abilities—when someone like El appeared, that rule no longer held true.
"Is that so?" Many of the Whitebeard Pirates turned their gaze toward the El Pirates.
They had never imagined a young man could possess such terrifying power, enough to earn such high praise from their captain.
Their own crew was filled with strong fighters, each commander capable of leading an entire fleet.
Yet none of them had ever received such words of approval from Whitebeard.
"As the saying goes—you never truly know someone until you've fought them!"
Stepping forward to speak was Marco the Phoenix, the most trusted and diplomatic figure among the Whitebeard Pirates.
"Brothers of the El Pirates, we did not expect to cross paths with you here. As it happens, Fish‑Man Island falls under our protection. We don't often meet other crews this far out… so why not put aside our differences and share a drink together?"
Marco was nothing if not smooth. In truth, they had come here specifically after receiving word of the El Pirates' arrival, fully prepared for battle.
But now that their captain had clashed with El and found him worthy, Marco swiftly shifted his tone—pretending they were merely passing through.
It was far better to turn a potential enemy into an ally. The Whitebeard Pirates knew better than anyone that their glory days were fading.
Their captain's health worsened day by day. Even the other commanders, though strong, could feel the change.
If something were to happen to Whitebeard, the crew would lose its anchor.
Without his presence, they would immediately become targets for every ambitious force in the New World.
Though they would remain powerful, the blow to their reputation and unity would be immense.
To avoid that future, they needed fewer enemies and more friends.
And since Whitebeard held no ill will toward El, the young captain and his crew were suddenly prime candidates to be won over.
"Captain… what shall we do?" Doflamingo glanced at El.
El nodded slowly in agreement.
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