Summit War 9

Luffy stood on the ice, looking up, and listened to Sengoku's words.

He didn't refute, didn't explain, but simply pulled his Straw Hat down further, obscuring most of his face. Then he took a deep breath and shouted again towards the Execution Platform, "Ace! Wait for me!!"

His rubber legs compressed to their limit on the ice, and the next second he was launched into the air, heading straight towards the Execution Platform.

Before the naval officers blocking the road could even raise their knives, he flung them away with his outstretched rubber arms. The shrapnel and ice chips along the way were swept into the air by the wind pressure generated by his sprint, drawing a straight line across the smoke-filled square.

While everyone in the square was still processing Luffy's past, he had already smashed through the front line of defense like a cannonball and headed straight for the Execution Platform.

The marines, finally snapping out of their shock, turned their guns around and tried to stop the reckless young man.

But at that very moment, Whitebeard's laughter erupted in the square.

He watched the Straw Hat- hatted figure rushing forward recklessly, a faint smile flashing in his eyes, before Murakumogiri heavily to the ground.

"Cover the Straw Hat Boy!!" His voice drowned out the gunfire and the shouts of battle, echoing across the entire frozen surface. "Anyone who dares to stop him—I'll shatter their bones!"

Marco broke free from Aokiji's ice blades, flapped his wings, and swooped down towards the artillery position in front of Luffy, sending several cannons that were aiming flying with blue flames.

Jozu crashed through the stone wall from the side, his Diamond- like shoulder sending two majors who were trying to intercept Luffy flying backward.

Vista drew his twin swords, creating a crisscrossing line of light behind Luffy, forcing all the pursuers back.

At that moment, all the Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates did the same thing—they stood guard on either side of the Straw Hat boy, tearing a path for him to the Execution Platform.

Garp stood there, listening as Sengoku unveiled his secrets layer by layer.

His fist was still clenched, and the blood on his knuckles had dried, forming dark red scabs.

He didn't say a word, nor did he even look at the Sengoku; he simply remained silent for a moment.

Then he raised his head and looked at the Whitebeard opposite him again. His eyes were different from before—not more angry, nor more pained, but he had suppressed all those surging emotions into the deepest part of his chest, like forcibly covering a pot of boiling water with a lid.

"Whitebeard." His voice returned to its usual roughness, without trembling or hesitation.

The Whitebeard man looked down at the old fellow who was much shorter than him, twirled the Murakumogiri in his palm, and a knowing smile appeared on his lips.

He didn't laugh at Garp —he had never laughed at Garp in his life, just as Garp had never laughed at him.

The two old men, standing at the pinnacle of the old era, both understood the same thing from each other's eyes at this moment: some debts must be repaid sooner or later.

"Gururu la la la! Let's continue, Garp!"

Conqueror's Haki and Armament Haki exploded simultaneously, the two wills, each carrying its own Devil Fruit abilities and peak Taijutsu, clashed violently on the ruins at the intersection of the bay and the plaza.

This time, there was no probing, no backing down.

Garp's fist slammed into Whitebeard's Murakumogiri in shockwaves. The resulting shockwave swept away everything within a radius of hundreds of meters—rubble, severed limbs, turret remains, and even volcanic ash floating in the air were all compressed into a ring of air and pushed outwards at the moment of impact.

Several officers who hadn't had time to retreat were blasted away by the air wall, crashing onto the ice dozens of meters away, unconscious.

No one dared to approach anymore.

The marines and pirates unanimously left a large blank space around the two men—a battlefield left to each other by two different eras.

Whitebeard's arm muscles trembled slightly with each impact.

He knew he wasn't afraid of Akainu or Kizaru, and that he could hold off two of the Three Admirals at the same time.

But Garp is not Admiral.

This old guy's fists are monsters that can chase Roger all over the world and go head-to-head with the captain in God Valley.

Those legends weren't made up by the navy; he had seen them with his own eyes.

So many years have passed, Garp has grown old, and so has he, but how come this old man's fists are still so hard?

Just as the shockwave from Garp's battle with Whitebeard cleared a no-man's-land in the center of the plaza, a dark red figure stepped on the shattered ice and bypassed the ruins from the side.

Sakazuki didn't help Garp. He strode westward, his military boots leaving a hissing, charred footprint on the ice with each step, the melting ice water vaporizing into white mist before it could even spread.

The brim of his baseball cap covered most of his face, revealing only his clenched teeth and the bloodstain at the corner of his mouth that hadn't been wiped clean.

The scene of being blasted away by Whitebeard's punch has been broadcast live all over the world via Den Den Mushi.

He needs another battle to erase that face from the world's memory.

Marco had just broken free from his fight with Aokiji and was diving towards Luffy.

When he caught sight of the dark red figure out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly flapped his wings, abruptly stopping in mid-air, with blue flames drawing two long arcs at the tips of his wings. Then he smiled.

"They changed the person?"

Akainu did not answer.

The moment his right arm was raised, it transformed into surging magma, with large clumps of magma dripping from his arm and exploding into bursts of scorching water vapor on the ice surface.

The next second, the Magma Fist was already in front of Marco.

Marco crossed his wings in front of him, and the flames of the phoenix collided head-on with the Phoenix, exploding into a rain of fire.

His body was thrown back more than ten meters, but he still stood firmly when he landed on the ice. The wound on his chest, which had been scalded by lava, was being filled and healed by blue flames at a speed visible to the naked eye.

He knew very well that he was no match for Akainu, but he didn't need to be.

Almost at the same moment Akainu made his move, an ice path rapidly spread from the south side of the plaza, freezing all the rubble and corpses along its way into ice sculptures.

Aokiji glided across the icy path, the ice blade in his hand gleaming coldly in the sunlight. His gaze pierced through the chaotic battlefield, locking onto the Diamond that was crushing down from the direction of the bay.

Jozu slumped his left shoulder, knocking away two oncoming majors. When he caught sight of Aokiji out of the corner of his eye, he stopped in his tracks.

Akainu took Aokiji's place to stop Marco, while Aokiji freed his hand to block in front of him.

Jozu slammed his arms together in front of him, the Diamond -like fists striking with a crisp, almost ear-piercing sound. Then he grinned.

"Trying to stop me? Try it."

The intensity of the battle continued to rise across every inch of the plaza. Blades clashed, guns and Devil Fruit powers exploded in the crowd, and everyone's nerves were stretched to the limit.

Amidst this overwhelming chaos, the Shichibukai made their move.