"Just one more day. Please."
Douglas Barrett's voice was uncharacteristically soft, stripped of its usual confidence. A plea. He feared complications during Rosen's resurrection of the fallen Marines.
It was the first time the Devil's Heir had seen the Grim Reaper show such weakness.
That was precisely why.
Barrett understood that death was not a concept to be trifled with. The deaths of hundreds of Marines could not be refused without consequence. There would be a price to pay. Each Marine's journey from mangled flesh to wholeness—and then back to life—was built upon a foundation of immense strain on Rosen.
"Junior," Borsalino spoke up, his lazy demeanor replaced by genuine concern. "Why don't you listen to Barrett? Just one more day."
Before Rosen could respond, the light-admiral chimed in. Like Barrett, this was the first time he had seen Rosen this drained. After resurrecting over two hundred Marines, with more than a hundred still remaining, Rosen's complexion was pale, his breathing ragged. If he continued, he would inevitably overexert himself—possibly to the point of collapse.
"Rosen, just listen to Borsalino," Sakazuki added, his voice carrying the weight of command. "Let's wait another day. One more day in the abyss of death won't matter. Their spirits in the afterlife will understand."
Kuzan nodded in agreement. "They're already gone for the day. Waiting won't change their fate."
Not only the three Admirals and the Devil's Heir, but Marines from every direction were urging Rosen to stop. To rest. To stop using the power of the Shield of Six Flowers to overexert himself.
"Actually," Rosen began, his voice quiet but firm, "I'm not as great as you all think."
He paused, gathering his strength.
"The reason I insist on reviving all the fallen Marines today is because the longer they've been dead, the harder it is to prevent them from truly passing on. If we wait until tomorrow, the difficulty increases exponentially."
Faced with their concern, Rosen shook his head. Having revived over two hundred Marines and used the Twin Heavens Return Shield that many times, he understood the power intimately.
Just as Aizen from the Bleach world had once said, the Shield of Six Flowers was an ability that violated the realm of gods. It could prevent death itself. But like any power, it depended on the user's strength.
In the Bleach world, the upper limit of the shield depended on Orihime Inoue's spiritual pressure.
In the One Piece world, the Shield of Six Flowers—manifested by Rosen's Arms-Arms Fruit—depended on his physical strength and the limits of his Devil Fruit's development.
Even with Orihime's full power, reviving a single person was difficult. Yet Rosen had revived over two hundred Marines in one go. This process allowed him to fully grasp the power of the shield and the burden of refusing death.
"If we wait until tomorrow," Rosen said, glancing at the remaining corpses, "I can't guarantee I can turn these bodies back into living Marines."
In all his years of leading troops, this was the first time he had suffered such large-scale losses. That was why he persisted.
First, to test the naval science unit's limits. Second, because bringing more Marines would only result in more casualties. Third, to train a truly powerful army to suppress the Great Pirate Era.
Strong equipment wasn't true strength. Raw power wasn't true strength either. Only a combination of will, strength, and equipment formed a truly powerful army.
Most importantly, there was the Shield of Six Flowers as a safety net. Even if the entire naval science unit was wiped out, Rosen could resurrect the fallen Marines. But if, as Sengoku had warned, he brought an army of 100,000 and suffered mass casualties, the situation would be different. He could resurrect a few hundred dead. Tens of thousands? That was beyond his control.
"I will freeze these bodies," Kuzan offered, understanding Rosen's concern. "I'll freeze their state of death at this moment."
"The time of death isn't determined by the state of death," Rosen immediately rejected the proposal. "Even if the state of death remains fixed, the time of death can still be infinitely prolonged. Refusing death today is completely different from refusing death yesterday. It involves not only refusing death, but also refusing time."
Hearing this, everyone understood the difficulty of refusing death—and what Rosen had carried in refusing hundreds of deaths.
It was a struggle against death. A struggle against time. Only by refusing both could a Marine be reborn.
"Alright," Rosen said, his voice carrying an edge of steel. "Let's continue."
The three Admirals wanted to protest, but Rosen cut them off.
"Double Heaven Return Shield."
He walked to the next corpse. The familiar voice—the familiar orange-yellow barrier—reappeared.
"I refuse."
With a chilling shout that moved the entire Navy, the god who ruled over death and the god who controlled time seemed to have been silenced by the voice's owner.
Under the orange-yellow barrier, death and time could not corrupt the Navy. Those who should have been dead were able to reopen their eyes under the power of the Shield of the Six Flowers.
Rosen didn't wait for them to fully regain consciousness before turning to the next corpse.
The moving orange-yellow barrier lit up once more in the sight of all the Marines.
Two hundred and three.
Two hundred and four.
Two hundred and five.
...
With each cold corpse brought back to life, Rosen—who had always been like a pillar supporting the Navy and suppressing the Age of the Seas—now revealed an unprecedented weakness.
His gait became unsteady. His steps faltered.
Yet his struggle shocked and filled every sailor with awe.
Those who had been resurrected, after learning everything from their colleagues, revered Rosen as a god.
As Rosen walked toward the 358th body, his once imposing, unyielding form—like red earth itself—swayed like a candle in the wind.
Each step was no longer a display of dominance, but a faltering, weak gait.
Tap.
The sound of high heels on ice rang out. Gion stepped forward, coming to Rosen's side and taking his arm.
"All this time," she said softly, "I've been chasing your shadow. This time, let me walk alongside you."
She looked into his eyes. "Alright?"
Rosen met Gion's resolute gaze. A faint smile touched his pale face.
"Alright."
Supported by Gion, he walked to the 358th and final Marine corpse.
"Double Heaven Return Shield."
This time, Rosen's voice lacked its previous domineering air. It was feeble. Broken.
Whoosh.
The orange-yellow barrier still lit up, enveloping the last corpse and restoring its wounds.
"I—"
The moment Rosen uttered the first word, his voice froze, as if encountering unprecedented resistance.
"Rosen." Gion could clearly feel the hand she was supporting trembling.
"Sakazuki." Borsalino abruptly turned to look at his fellow Admiral.
As a Devil Fruit user, he knew well the price of overdrawing physical strength to use Devil Fruit abilities.
"Knock him out."
As if by unspoken agreement, Sakazuki looked at Borsalino. These two childhood friends reached a consensus in that moment.
Then—of the three Admirals, the most headstrong and bearing the most infamy—Sakazuki moved decisively.
If the cost of reviving the last Marine was Rosen's health, he would rather the man remain a corpse forever. In his view, the Marines could lack anyone—even himself—but they could not lack Rosen.
"Ara ara ara, let me play this less-than-honorable role!" Kuzan grabbed Sakazuki's arm. "I've never been able to accept your sense of justice, not even now. But honestly, there's one thing I have to admire about you."
"You can do it—bearing everything, steadfastly upholding your own sense of justice. You're someone who can bear everything for justice, for the Navy. So can I."
Under Sakazuki's surprised gaze, Kuzan walked toward Rosen. He knew erasing a Marine's chance of resurrection was cruel. He knew it would damage his reputation. But he didn't care.
Suppressing the Great Pirate Era couldn't be done without casualties. Seizing world power couldn't be done without losses. Therefore, necessary sacrifices were acceptable to Kuzan. But he wouldn't let Rosen bear the blame. As an Admiral, he would shoulder it.
Crack.
Just as Kuzan resolved to knock Rosen unconscious and stop him from toying with death, the ice on Rosen's heel shattered.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
A large amount of sand burst through the ice, instantly forming a blade, carrying a chilling killing intent. It shot toward Rosen's back like lightning.
"Crocodile."
The sudden attack caused the three Admirals' expressions to change instantly. They recognized it immediately—Crocodile's Sandy-Sandy Fruit ability. Yet they hadn't expected him to dare attack at this moment.
"Crocodile! You really picked a good time!"
Douglas Barrett's mind raced. If one wanted to assassinate the Navy's Grim Reaper, what better time than when he was weakened? While Barrett admitted Crocodile was adept at choosing moments, the enemy's actions ignited killing intent within him.
CLANG!
Before Barrett could move, a sword's cry—like a dragon's roar—resounded throughout the universe.
It wasn't just Crocodile.
Dracule Mihawk had made his move.
Bang!
Mihawk wielded his swords with both hands, unleashing Armament Haki and Conqueror's Haki to their fullest extent. Black and purple lightning bolts and streaks of light swirled around the black sword, Night.
Then—with a single slash—the sky and sea instantly lost their color.
Except for an overwhelming wave of dark green sword light, all color within a radius of hundreds of kilometers withered, or rather, were obscured by the slash.
At the same time, a devastating, overwhelming strike—like a dragon emerging from the sea—surged forth with a terrifying, sky-splitting blade, aimed directly at Rosen's nape.
"It's time to go, Rosen."
At this moment, Dracule Mihawk and Crocodile stared intently at Rosen's weakened figure—no longer the indomitable, towering pillar he once was.
Their eyes revealed a killing intent that even the waters of the Grand Line could not wash away.
Godslayer.
There would be a price to pay.
Both knew this perfectly well.
After unleashing the Sand Sword and wielding the Black Blade against the Marines' death god, regardless of success or failure, their fate would inevitably be torn apart by the enraged Marines.
But it didn't matter.
Both Hawkeye and the King of the Desert indicated they had been wearing the collars around their necks for quite some time.
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