North Blue, Marine HQ G-1 –
"Rosen..."
Jinbe stared at the figure floating high above the battlefield, looking down upon the carnage like a god. His expression was complex, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He knew the truth now.
Edward Newgate was truly dead.
One was the man who had protected Fish-Man Island, a father figure for whom Jinbe held sincere gratitude. The other was the Marine he had come to respect—a man who stood by his principles, even when they clashed with the World Government. In the end, the former had fallen by the latter's blade.
"Mother..."
Katakuri's heart hammered against his ribs as he watched Rosen return to the sky. Despair washed over him like a cold tide. Like Marco, he had overheard the conversation between the three Admirals earlier—heard the grim confirmation of their defeat. Yet, until the dust settled, a sliver of hope remained.
That hope was now extinguished.
Jinbe, Katakuri, and Marco watched as Rosen, the man who had descended like a deity, stood suspended in the void. A wave of crushing despair swept through the remaining pirates like a plague.
Weapons clattered to the ground. Scattered survivors fled like startled animals. Only a stubborn minority—the true core of the Whitebeard Pirates—chose to stand and fight to the end.
"Had enough?"
Rosen's voice cut through the chaos. His Observation Haki had already swept the battlefield, distinguishing friend from foe. With Shiki, Charlotte Linlin, and Edward Newgate gone, he could focus.
"Charlotte Linlin. Edward Newgate. Shiki... are dead." Rosen looked down, his voice cold and deliberate. "It is time for you to leave."
He didn't wait for a reply.
A terrifying crimson glint flashed in Rosen's eyes. The air crackled as a vast, heavy wave of Conqueror's Haki surged upward. It felt like the sky itself was tilting.
Whoosh.
The Haki spread outward, a dome of black and red lightning flowing across the heavens. It wasn't just a pressure; it was a physical weight crushing down on the world. Clouds dispersed. The blue sky seemed to darken.
The next second...
BOOM!
A deafening roar echoed, not of cannon fire, but of pure spiritual pressure. Then came the rain—torrential, heavy drops of water infused with Haki. The storm covered the battlefield instantly, drenching everyone.
Yet, the Marines remained dry. Every drop of Haki-laced rain seemed to actively avoid them, striking only the pirates.
"Conqueror's Haki rain," Sakazuki murmured, catching a drop in his palm. Despite its size, the pressure within that single drop was mountainous.
"Ara ara ara..." Kuzan watched the deluge. "Is it an illusion? After fighting Whitebeard, Shiki, and Big Mom... has his Haki grown even stronger?"
"Not an illusion," Borsalino said, calm despite the spectacle. "My junior simply leveled up again. Fighting three Yonko simultaneously pushed him to a new threshold. It's what he does."
Borsalino had spent months in Impel Down with Rosen and Zephyr. He had seen it firsthand—Rosen growing at a pace that defied logic. With every meal, every spar, every battle, his Haki, his Devil Fruit mastery, his swordsmanship... everything advanced.
"Even the Pirate King would have to look up to him now," Douglas Bullet said, a wide grin splitting his face. Rosen had kept his promise. He wasn't just the strongest in the world—he was invincible.
"Is this... really Haki?" Jinbe's body was frozen beneath the surface of the ocean, only his head visible. His eyes were wide with shock.
In an instant, Haki soared to the heavens, blackening the sky. It spread like a celestial curtain, an ocean of pressure that turned the universe upside down.
"Mother fought this monster?" Katakuri lay prone on the deck, his heart churning. He finally understood the sheer, crushing despair Charlotte Linlin must have felt at the end.
"Father... your defeat was not unjust," Marco whispered, his body battered and bruised. Before this overwhelming force, what did the Four Emperors matter? What did the Great Pirate Era amount to? The sheer weight of Rosen's Haki was enough to crush the entire age.
As if responding to his thoughts—
BOOM!
The churning Haki ocean pressed down.
The sky was collapsing. It felt as though the dome of the New World was tilting, shattering, swept down by the tidal wave of spiritual power.
"ARGH!"
As the Haki crashed down, the remnants of the Big Mom and Whitebeard crews felt like they were in a small boat facing a tsunami. Despair and helplessness overwhelmed them.
Dizziness.
Blurred vision.
Chests tightening.
The pressure acted directly on their minds and bodies. One by one, pirates screamed, their eyes rolling back, foam flecking their lips as they collapsed.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Like cannon fire, tens of thousands of pirates hit the deck, unconscious.
The Seven Warlords... or rather, any pirate below the rank of officer in a Yonko crew simply couldn't remain standing under Rosen's Conqueror's Haki. In a single exchange, the Whitebeard and Big Mom pirates were wiped out.
Moments later, as the storm receded and Rosen收回 his Haki, fewer than a hundred pirates remained conscious on the vast battlefield.
Of those, half were pale, drenched in sweat, and trembling. They knelt on the ground, unable to fight, barely able to stand. Staying conscious was their limit.
The Whitebeard Pirates.
The Big Mom Pirates.
After the brutal war, only those with exceptional willpower remained standing. Fewer than thirty could truly fight.
And then there was Gecko Moria.
Because he was a pirate, Rosen hadn't spared him. The Warlord was on his knees, face deathly pale, panting heavily. As a former rival to Kaido, his physical strength was immense, but his will had withered long ago. He didn't faint, but he couldn't move.
"Just as I calculated," Borsalino said, adjusting his sunglasses. He scanned the remaining thirty pirates standing amidst the corpses, then looked up at Rosen. He knew it—Rosen's Conqueror's Haki had reached a level no king had ever touched before.
"Troops are meaningless against him," Sakazuki admitted, a rare look of admiration in his eyes. Facing such audacious power, military strength was a joke. Unless they fielded an army composed entirely of Emperor-level fighters—and the world didn't have that many.
"Ara ara... Even though I saw it happen, it feels like a dream," Kuzan shook his head. "Wiping out the Four Emperors in a single day..."
It used to be a fantasy. A dream. But now, it was fact.
From this day forward, the Four Emperors who reigned like gods over the New World were gone. Erased from history. The age of the Yonko had ended.
—-
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