Rosen didn't need Observation Haki to sense King's presence, but his mastery of it made the Wildfire Emperor's concealment laughable.
King had hidden himself perfectly among the clouds tens of thousands of meters above, a feat that would fool most Marines. To Rosen, whose Observation Haki spanned the horizon in all directions—land, sea, sky, even underground—it was like holding a torch in a dark cave. His Haki was always active, a constant shield that not only detected hostile auras but foretold their intentions seconds before they acted.
King's descent had been foreseen ten seconds before he dove from the heavens, wreathed in fire.
"King's Flash," Rosen murmured, his voice cutting through the mounting pressure.
From the mask on his face, a violet beam erupted—lightning given form, a lance of pure destruction designed specifically for the Lunaria race's resilience. It met King's Guardian Fire Dragon Emperor mid-descent.
Boom!
The collision was immediate and absolute. King's ultimate technique, capable of scorching battlefields, shattered like glass against the Cero. Violet light tore through flame and smoke, continuing its relentless ascent toward the source.
"Rosen!"
King didn't retreat. He couldn't. The Lunaria warrior dove into the attack, wings flared, using his own body as a shield. His hands clamped down on the beam of light, his legendary flames roaring to their peak.
For a heartbeat, it seemed to work. The Cero faltered—then it surged.
A shockwave like a tsunami slammed King upward. His flames, the mark of his tribe's invincibility, flickered wildly. When the light faded, smoke poured from his palms, and the fire on his back had dimmed by half.
King's eyes widened. "Impossible..."
He'd faced Kaido. He'd endured Big Mom's attacks. His flames had never faltered so quickly. Rosen had nearly extinguished them in a single exchange.
"Big Mom! Golden Lion!" King roared, desperate.
Charlotte Linlin, eyes gleaming, seized the opportunity. She grabbed Zeus and Prometheus—her thundercloud and sun homies—and hurled them to Shiki. The Golden Lion caught them, fusing them to his black blades with a surge of Conqueror's Haki.
"Radiant Blade!" Linlin bellowed.
"Roaring Light Sword!" Shiki answered.
The Golden Lion ascended, then dove like a meteor, transformed into a black lightning lion that streaked toward Rosen, breaking the sound barrier. The sheer velocity warped the air into energy rings.
Rosen didn't move. He simply watched the attack approach, then spoke one word.
"Too late."
In an instant, Shiki froze mid-charge—his sword raised, his expression locked in murderous fury. The black lightning lion shattered against an invisible barrier. Ice, thick and absolute, encased the Golden Lion completely.
Thump.
The frozen statue of Shiki crashed onto the battlefield, silent and still.
A scream tore from the heavens. King, his flames finally extinguished by the relentless Cero, was consumed by an explosion of violet light that pierced the sky itself.
"Shiki!" Linlin cried, her voice raw with disbelief.
Rosen's blade, Tensa Zangetsu, pulsed with Armament Haki. He swung it in a crescent arc—Crescent Moon Strike—severing the Haki threads that bound Linlin to her fallen allies. Ice spread from the point of impact, cracking the ground beneath her feet.
She stared at Rosen, then at Shiki's frozen form, then back at Rosen. Her mouth opened, but no words came out.
"You're wondering," Rosen said, his voice calm, "why Shiki froze when I only took two steps."
Linlin's eyes narrowed. She had counted. Rosen had taken two steps toward King, then two toward Shiki. Four steps total. The pattern was deliberate.
"Within four steps," Rosen continued, raising his blade to point at her, "wherever this blade points, all elements freeze."
"Daiguren Hyōrinmaru," he declared. "The Four-Step Freeze."
Linlin's pupils constricted. "Four steps...?"
"Four steps of time, Big Mom." Rosen's lips curled into a cold smile. "Not the act of walking, but the duration of four steps. I needed you to believe the trigger was physical. To believe you could calculate it, predict it, avoid it."
Her face twisted with rage. "You tricked us."
"I misled you," Rosen corrected, his voice cutting as sharply as his blade. "There's a difference. You saw a pattern and assumed causation. Just as Wang Zhi did on Beehive Island, when he waited for me to call my sword's name before striking."
Linlin's breath caught. The memory was fresh—Wang Zhi, dead, because he'd been waiting for a ritual that never mattered. Rosen had played the same hand twice, and both times, pirates had died for their assumptions.
"And you call yourself a Marine," she spat, venom dripping from every word.
"A Marine who understands that power without strategy is just noise." Rosen took his third step. The ice crept further, frost spreading across Linlin's boots. "You and your kind stand at the pinnacle of strength, yet your minds are filled with nothing but greed and instinct. Milk tea for blood. Cake for thoughts. A ship's rudder lodged in your skull."
His eyes were merciless. "Even Aizen, the master manipulator, lost his edge when he stopped thinking and started believing his own legend. Power requires wisdom to wield it. And wisdom, Big Mom, is something you pirates have never possessed."
He took his fourth and final step.
The ice surged forward, swallowing Charlotte Linlin whole. Her scream was cut short as she became the newest statue in Rosen's garden of frozen tyrants.
The silence that followed was absolute. Across the battlefield, Marines stared in awe at their Admiral, who had defeated two Yonko-level pirates with nothing but a blade and a few words.
Rosen turned to the stunned officers behind him. "Secure the prisoners. Execute any who resist. The era of pirate supremacy ends today."
"Yes, Admiral!" they shouted in unison, their voices filled with newfound reverence.
As the Marines moved to bind the frozen pirates, Rosen's gaze drifted to the horizon. The World Government would hear of this. The Five Elders would rage. But let them.
He was Admiral Rosen, the Marine King. And he would forge a new justice from the ice of his enemies' failures.
—-