The roar of Marine cannons shattered the brief silence.
Dozens of black, solid iron cannonballs tore through the smoke, whistling toward the Moby Dick from the towering fortress walls on the right flank.
Blackbeard had barely escaped before the Marines' heavy artillery positions eagerly blanketed the area with fire.
These were elite artillery crews commanded by Headquarters Vice Admirals, intent on burying the barely surviving Whitebeard in the bay along with the Moby Dick.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Heavy, measured footsteps rang out across the ice as Bullet's massive frame crossed hundreds of meters.
His broad figure, over two meters tall, cut straight in front of the Moby Dick.
Facing dozens of heavy cannonballs hurtling toward him, Bullet did not even blink.
He casually raised his left arm, covered in rough calluses, and lashed it viciously through the air.
With a thunderous crash, his slap knocked the hard cast-iron cannonballs off course.
Four or five cannonballs were shattered on the spot by the dark red Ryuo enveloping his palm, bursting into scrap metal in midair.
The remaining cannonballs tumbled out of balance and scattered across the distant ice, throwing up great showers of ice fragments and snowy mist.
Bullet shook the iron fragments off his wrist and let out a heavy breath.
"Decades have passed, and Marine cannonballs still hit like feathers."
He stepped up before the Moby Dick's battered bow, looking down at the white-haired giant on deck.
Whitebeard was covered in wounds, and the old injury on his chest was still slowly seeping blood.
The great pirate who had once reigned over the New World now needed his polearm just to stand.
"Bullet! Stay away from Pops!"
Blue flames of regeneration surged through the air.
Covered in blood, Marco stood protectively before Whitebeard, his arms transformed into wings of