Jinbe, carrying both Luffy and Ivankov, froze in his tracks. Everything had happened in the span of a single heartbeat.
Drake's movements were flawless, devoid of even a trace of hesitation. The moment he vanished, the strike had already fallen.
"Whoa..." Luffy's jaw dropped, but his shock quickly turned into unbridled excitement. The man who had landed that blow was his brother!
In that moment, Luffy made a silent vow. He was the man who would become the Pirate King; he had to be the strongest! He would surely surpass all his brothers!
Ivankov, meanwhile, was blinking in utter disbelief, her face paralyzed in a mask of shock.
"The Admiral!" The cry went up simultaneously across the bay.
The Marines shrieked in grief and terror, while the pirates stared, awestruck by Drake's overwhelming prowess.
"Doesn't feel great, does it... Red Dog?" Drake's eyes flashed with a cold, sharp light.
He knew that sword strike had truly bit into Akainu. At the moment of execution, he had consciously abandoned the idea of a decapitation. Before, he might not have known why, but through the continuous meat-grinder of battle at Marineford, he had adapted. He had learned the reality of combat in this world: Instinct.
When faced with a lethal crisis, a high-tier powerhouse—especially one as gifted as an Admiral—will awaken a primal physical instinct. It wasn't exactly Observation Haki; it was a profound, almost mystical sense of preservation. Drake used to think such things were just narrative fluff, but now he understood they were tangible. In a life-and-death struggle, this instinct allowed a fighter to survive the impossible.
Even with a ten-fold certainty of hitting Akainu's neck, Drake had chosen the torso instead. His own instinct told him that a strike for the head wouldn't claim Akainu's life; it would be evaded.
He settled for a wound.
But Vale D. Drake didn't let up. The moment his feet touched the ice, he teleported again, appearing at Akainu's rear-right flank.
"Eight Desolations Sweep!"
This time, he aimed for the neck. Though he had a high degree of confidence, he didn't dare be careless. A massive, crescent-shaped blade of energy tore across the horizontal plane toward Akainu.
The onlookers watched, hearts in their throats, as the sword intent roared toward the Admiral.
What is this guy doing?
That's an Admiral!
You landed one cut, and now you're getting cocky?
On the contrary, Drake's nerves were taut as bowstrings. He was unleashing everything he had for two reasons: first, to vent the lingering resentment from his previous life's memories; and second, to actually weaken Akainu. The man was a monster—in the original story, he had taken direct, full-power hits from Whitebeard and kept moving. Drake wasn't arrogant enough to think one shallow cut would end the "Red Dog."
Just as the blade-aura was about to sever Akainu's throat, the Admiral moved. His head instantly liquefied into bubbling magma, dropping toward the floor as the sword-wave whistled harmlessly through the space it had occupied.
The strike missed!
BOOM!
The residual energy slammed into a corner of the harbor, the sound of collapsing masonry splashing into the sea echoing the heavy silence in everyone's hearts.
Hiss... Both Marines and pirates sucked in a cold breath.
The powerhouses on the field wore expressions of extreme gravity. A man with this level of strength couldn't possibly be a nobody. Even in the New World, this man would be at the absolute summit.
Why has someone this powerful only appeared now? Who is he?
And the fact that such a man was the brother of "Fire Fist" and "Straw Hat"—what was his true allegiance?
Between the Pirates, the Revolutionaries, and now this unknown variable, the Marines were beginning to lose their grip. Looking at Drake's age, the potential of these four brothers was terrifying.
In terms of talent, the world had just witnessed two separate Conqueror's Haki awakenings sweep the battlefield. In terms of raw power, none of the four were weak. There was the most problematic rookie in history, the Second Division Commander of a Yonko, the Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, and now Drake—a man who could duel an Admiral.
If they were allowed to grow, they would be a force comparable to a Yonko crew by themselves. And that was just their personal strength. If you factored in their backers—Whitebeard, the Revolutionaries, and the Straw Hat Grand Fleet—it was a nightmare scenario.
The rank-and-file soldiers saw it, and Akainu, as an Admiral, saw it even more clearly.
The magma bubbled and reformed into Akainu's physical shape. However, a long, jagged gash now ran across his chest. Blood seeped through the tattered red fabric of his suit, a sight that made the Marines' skin crawl.
An Admiral was bleeding!
"Who... are you!?" Akainu asked, his face ashen and his voice dripping with venom.
It was a disgrace. To be made to bleed by a nameless brat—he, a Marine Admiral! Whitebeard hadn't even managed to land a clean hit like that yet, but this youth had.
"Luffy's... big brother!" Drake pointed his blade at Akainu. This fight was far from over.
Akainu's lip twitched. Is that the only answer you have, you brat? Your name! I want your name!
"Excellent," Akainu said, wiping the blood from his mouth, his face a mask of cold fury. "I trust you understand the gravity of your actions. Making an enemy of the World Government is not a wise decision."
Drake offered a thin smile and looked Akainu in the eye. "Making an enemy of us four brothers isn't a wise decision either... for the World Government!"
"If you hadn't provoked us, the World Government would still be the World Government, and you, Akainu, would still be an Admiral." Drake's eyes turned cold. "But you poked the nest. To us, you're just a pile of shit, and it's high time the World Government had a change in leadership."
Drake's heart was pounding with excitement. This power was tailor-made for him. It was god-like, and he hadn't even explored its full potential yet. He felt a surge of validation—this is what being a protagonist felt like.
Heh heh heh.
Don't get it twisted; I didn't give away the Flame-Flame and Lightning fruits just to get something better... really... I didn't.
"You..." Akainu was beyond words. "FINE!"
There was no more room for talk. Akainu's legendary ability to provoke others was useless against Drake.
CRACK!
Akainu shattered the ice beneath his feet and launched himself like a volcanic projectile toward Drake.
Drake didn't back down. He lunged forward to meet him, and the two became a blur of elemental violence. Akainu was resolved to bury Drake here; he understood that the combined potential of these brothers was a terminal threat to the Marines' world order.
Meanwhile, the rest of Marineford had reached its boiling point. Whitebeard was deep in the heart of the enemy formation, surrounded by a seemingly endless sea of Marines. They swarmed him like ants, a barrage of techniques and cannon fire raining down.
With Kizaru occasionally sniping him with lasers from the periphery, Whitebeard's body was becoming a map of fresh wounds. Blood poured from him without cease.
"HRAAAH!" Whitebeard unleashed a massive, 360-degree shockwave, but the effort forced him to his knee.
"Ugh... cough... SPIT!"
As Whitebeard spat a massive glob of blood onto the ice, a mournful cry went up from his crew.
"POPS!!"
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