Grand Line, Marineford!
The fierce battle had already lasted an hour. Whitebeard and his forty-three subordinate pirate crews had put enormous pressure on the Marines.
But it was only pressure.
Although Whitebeard's side was the strongest pirate crew in the world, their combat strength was still insufficient compared to the Marines.
Not to mention that Whitebeard's body was no longer what it had once been. Whether he still possessed even seventy percent of his strength at his peak was uncertain.
The Marines, on the other hand, had Warring States Period and Garp, who had both declined with age but remained very close to Whitebeard in strength. Add to that the three Admirals in their prime and a host of Vice Admirals—and that was still counting the Seven Warlords of the Sea and similar forces as collectively doing nothing.
Although Whitebeard's commanders were also quite strong, they could not even completely gain the upper hand against the Marine Headquarters' Vice Admirals, much less combatants on the level of the three Admirals.
From every angle, Whitebeard's side was at a complete disadvantage. Even if they could force their way in on the strength of their initial morale, they would ultimately be unable to escape defeat.
Whitebeard had anticipated all of this long ago, but he had come anyway, simply because he was Whitebeard.
His son had been captured. How could a father stand by and do nothing?
That was Whitebeard's conviction, and the reason he was Whitebeard.
With Oars's help, the Whitebeard Pirates had achieved good results and pushed forward a considerable distance.
But what stood before them next was the Marines' true elite.
All three Admirals had fixed their eyes on Whitebeard. At this moment, they were the Marines' greatest fighting force. Whoever could take Whitebeard's head in this war would