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[TIOP] Chapter : 90
🕑 Added 2025-04-10 19:27:49 +0000 UTCJust then, Aokiji—who had been quietly seated below the execution platform—vanished in an instant.
“Ice Age!”
Soaring into the sky, Aokiji unleashed his ice power, freezing the towering tsunami in its tracks. With the battlefield now under his control, he launched a follow-up attack—“Twin Ice Spears!”—hurtling two razor-sharp lances of ice straight toward Whitebeard.
“Gurararara… Aokiji, you little brat!” Whitebeard laughed, unfazed. With a thunderous roar, he slammed his fist forward.
The very air cracked apart under the sheer force of his punch. A shockwave ripped through the atmosphere, shattering Aokiji’s ice spears mid-flight and dispersing his elemental form into icy shards that crashed into the now-frozen harbor below.
“Hah! The whole harbor’s frozen solid—our turn now!”
“Finally, some footing! Let's tear into the navy!”
Cheers erupted from the Whitebeard Pirates as they leapt from their ships, charging across the frozen sea toward Marineford with weapons drawn.
“Fire at will! Sink the Moby Dick!” the navy countered, seizing the opportunity. Dozens of cannons roared to life, launching a fierce barrage toward Whitebeard's flagship.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
But before the shells could find their mark, they were intercepted midair—sliced, smashed, or detonated—by a wave of fierce defenders: the division commanders of the Whitebeard Pirates had entered the fray.
“Hahaha! Fire back, boys! Let them see we’ve got more than just swords—load the cannons and show 'em what real firepower looks like!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Explosions rocked the battlefield again—but this time, the navy stood firm. The Marine Headquarters’ vice admirals stepped forward, intercepting the volleys with skill and precision, their iron defense holding strong against the pirates’ onslaught.
"Hey, hey... that's a scary number of vice admirals!" one pirate muttered, his voice tinged with dread. "Feels more terrifying than even a Buster Call!"
With the elite forces of Marine Headquarters finally joining the fray, the pirates' momentum was abruptly halted.
"Ah, Tsuru-san, maybe you should stay back a bit," Vice Admiral Momonga said awkwardly, glancing at the veteran strategist standing beside him.
"Nonsense," Tsuru replied sharply, waving him off. "Stop fussing and have your squad steer the warship closer to the ice. We don't have time to dawdle."
Clang—
A sharp, ringing sound echoed across the battlefield.
It was Dracule "Hawkeye" Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman, calmly drawing the obsidian blade strapped to his back.
"Oh? Getting eager, are we?" Doflamingo chuckled darkly from his post nearby, lips curling into a twisted grin. "Fufufufu... you going to make a move now?"
"No... not yet," Mihawk answered coolly, eyes fixed on the figure in the distance. "I simply want to test the gap between me and that man."
With a single, effortless swing, Mihawk unleashed a flying slash—an immense arc of sword energy—cutting through the air toward Whitebeard.
"Whoa!" gasped the watching marines and pirates alike.
But before the slash could reach its target, a towering figure intercepted it. His body shimmered, half-transformed into diamond.
"Look! It’s Diamond Jozu, the Third Division Commander!"
The glint-glint human stood firm, deflecting Mihawk’s attack with sheer brute strength and unbreakable defense.
Then, in a flash—literally—another assault arrived.
"Yasakani no Magatama!"
Admiral Kizaru launched a barrage of dazzling light bullets, each one a deadly beam moving at the speed of light, raining down toward Whitebeard’s position.
"Hey, hey... isn’t that a bit too flashy?" Whitebeard chuckled, watching Kizaru's blinding assault streak toward him. His tone was light, almost amused—completely unfazed by the Admiral’s deadly light-based attack.
“Look! It’s Marco—the First Division Commander!”
Like a brilliant flame rising from the ashes, Phoenix Marco soared through the air, his glowing wings spread wide as he intercepted the light bullets midair. The ethereal fire surrounding him shimmered like a living aura.
“No way… it got blocked?!”
“That was Admiral Kizaru’s full-on barrage!”
Gasps echoed from both navy and pirate spectators who hadn’t yet joined the fray. Their eyes widened in disbelief.
"You really shouldn’t be firing at our king so recklessly," Marco said with a relaxed grin, blue flames dancing across his shoulders.
“How frightening… the Whitebeard Pirates are no joke,” Kizaru muttered as he slowly descended from the sky, his voice as sluggish and carefree as ever—but his eyes sharp and focused.
From the shadows behind the main square, Jack watched in awe. The clash of titans playing out before him was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
“Incredible,” he whispered, eyes fixed on the chaos. “This... this is the might of the Whitebeard Pirates.”
"Ouch, that stings," Marco quipped with a grin, brushing off Kizaru’s attack as though it were nothing more than a mosquito bite.
“You messing with me?” Kizaru frowned, clearly annoyed as he stared at Marco—completely unharmed, not even a scratch on him.
Marco’s secret? The Phoenix Fruit—a mythical Zoan-type Devil Fruit even rarer than the Logia types. The azure flames that enveloped his body weren’t ordinary fire—they were regenerative. As long as the flames burned, Marco could heal from almost any wound, making him virtually untouchable.
Without wasting another breath, the two lunged at each other again, sparks flying as their battle resumed mid-air.
"Ouch," Marco said again with mock pain, this time delivering a powerful flaming kick straight at Kizaru.
Kizaru blocked it with ease and smirked, echoing Marco's earlier words: “You messing with me?”
Marco stared at him, caught off guard. "Wait, seriously?" he said, blinking in disbelief.
The roles had reversed, but the results were just as dramatic. Marco’s kick launched Kizaru straight down to the ground like a meteor. Yet when the Admiral stood back up, there wasn’t a mark on him—not even a wrinkle on his clothes.
Meanwhile, the battlefield trembled once more.
“Raaaahhh!” roared Diamond Joz, hoisting a massive slab of ice ripped straight from the harbor. With strength that defied belief, he hurled it toward the navy lines like it was nothing more than a snowball.
From the command post, Akainu—still seated—watched with simmering irritation.
“They’re all charging out now. If we all move, who's left to hold the line?” he muttered coldly, before finally rising to his feet.
Gurgle… gurgle…
His hand morphed into molten magma, dripping and bubbling with destructive force.
“Great Eruption!”
Then, with a single fiery punch, Akainu obliterated the massive chunk of ice hurtling toward the navy lines, sending shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.
The massive block of ice shattered and vaporized instantly under Akainu’s molten assault. As his magma collided with the icy mass, fiery chunks rained from the sky like a volcanic storm, scorching both pirates and marines caught in the chaos below.
“Tch... that guy Akainu…” Jack muttered, frowning as he watched even fellow navy officers fall victim to friendly fire.
Unfazed by the destruction, Whitebeard glanced up at the magma raining from the heavens and scoffed.
“Gurararara... Magma brat, your flashy flames might be good for lighting birthday candles—but nothing more!” He said with a smirk, completely unimpressed.
“Heh... then let me light yours, old man,” Akainu replied from beneath the execution platform, a thin smile stretching across his face. “You do like grand funerals, don’t you, Whitebeard?”
Meanwhile, over at the Sabaody Archipelago, the reporters watching the broadcast were stunned into silence.
“Is this... the end of the world?” one of them whispered, swallowing hard as the battlefield transformed into an apocalyptic war zone.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
“Don’t stop! Charge the square!”
“Keep firing! Don’t let them land! Take down Whitebeard!”
The chaos had reached its peak. Bullets and cannon fire lit up the square of Marineford, turning it into a living hell as pirates and marines clashed in a deadly frenzy.
Then—just as the battle seemed at its wildest—the ground trembled.
Thoom… Thoom…
A colossal shadow stretched across the battlefield, and an enormous figure emerged from the smoke—towering even over the giants.
“Is that… Oz’s grandson? The one they call the Island puller?” a marine gasped, craning his neck upward.
“He’s... massive! Bigger than even the Vice Admiral giants!”
All eyes turned toward the towering newcomer. The battlefield had just gotten a whole lot more intense.
"Raaahhh!" Little Oars Jr roared, his massive frame shaking the ground beneath him as he stormed toward the square of Marineford. "Ace is a good man—I won’t let you kill him!"
“Stop him! Don’t let him reach the bay!” The navy shouted in panic, immediately mobilizing troops to intercept the oncoming giant.
From the other side of the battlefield, Gekko Moriah, one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea, watched with a gleam of greed in his eyes. Still bandaged from his last encounter, he chuckled darkly.
“Hehehe… So that’s Oars’ descendant? And under Whitebeard’s command, no less… I’d love to get my hands on that body.”
But Little Oars barreled through the navy’s defenses like a battering ram, using his immense size and strength to force a path straight to the heart of the battlefield.
On the Moby Dick, Whitebeard watched the reckless charge with narrowed eyes.
“Foolish boy,” he muttered, frowning. “There’s a fine line between bravery and foolishness, Oars.”
High above on the execution platform, Ace’s voice cracked with desperation.
“Oars! Don’t come any closer!” he shouted. “You’re too big—you’ll be an easy target!”
Their bond ran deep. Ace had always been close to Little Oars. In fact, the giant’s beloved hat—the one that shielded him from the sun and rain—had been handwoven by Ace himself during his time in Wano Country. Oars had cherished it ever since, refusing to part with it even in battle.
“Dad!” Little Oars called out, glancing back at Whitebeard on the deck. “Please don’t stop me. Even if I can save him just a second sooner—I have to try!”
With that, the giant surged forward, undeterred by the storm of firepower awaiting him.
“Fool…” Whitebeard muttered, a mix of frustration and sorrow in his voice. “Cover Oars!” Despite calling him an idiot, Whitebeard didn’t try to stop him—he ordered his crew to protect the giant as he charged ahead.
“Oars—!!”
But even with support, Little Oars couldn’t withstand the combined might of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.
Bartholomew Kuma struck first—his enormous ursus shock with a single, devastating blow. Doflamingo, with his String-String Fruit powers, sliced clean through one of the giant’s legs. Then Gekko Moriah finished the assault, driving a shadow-infused attack straight through Oars’ chest.
The giant collapsed just meters away from Ace.
“Ace…kun” Oars whispered weakly, eyes fixed on his comrade as they slowly fluttered shut. He had been so close—too close.
“Oars!” Ace cried, tears streaking down his face. Guilt and heartbreak crashed over him like a wave.
'Why didn’t I listen to Jack’s warnings?' he thought bitterly. 'If only I had stayed back, if only I hadn’t acted on my own... none of this would be happening. No one would be dying for my mistakes.'
On the Moby Dick, Whitebeard’s expression darkened as he stared at the fallen giant.
“You damn fool,” he growled softly.
Suddenly, Vice Admiral Ronse, a towering giant himself, charged at Whitebeard from behind with a massive weapon raised.
“You're wide open! Whitebeard!”
“Hmph.”
Without even turning fully around, Whitebeard shattered Ronse’s weapon with a single blow, then grabbed the vice admiral’s head in one powerful hand. In one brutal motion, he ended him—snapping the man’s life like a twig.
He flung the body aside with all the emotion of tossing away trash.
“Step over Oars and press on!” Whitebeard roared, voice echoing like thunder across the battlefield. “Keep moving forward!”
His anger surged, his sorrow buried beneath a rising tide of vengeance. The fall of Little Oars had ignited something dangerous in the heart of the world’s strongest man.
Meanwhile, Jack, watching from the shadows behind Marineford, swallowed hard. He had faced off against several of the Navy’s giant vice admirals in the past—and won. But his victories had come from exploiting their size and lack of agility, using speed and finesse to outmaneuver them.
In a pure contest of strength, though? Jack knew he wouldn’t stand a chance.
And now, seeing one of those same giants taken down effortlessly by Whitebeard with a single, brutal move—it sent a chill through him. For the first time, Jack found himself truly reassessing what “top-tier combat power” meant in this world.
Elsewhere, Fleet Admiral Sengoku picked up a Den Den Mushi, his voice calm but heavy with purpose.
“Tsuru, is it time to begin the battle plan?”
“It’s time,” the stoic Chief of Staff Tsuru replied, her voice unwavering.
Around her, several unfortunate pirates hung limply from nearby rigging, looking as if they'd been wrung out and hung to dry like laundry. Tsuru’s Wash-Wash Fruit was no joke—a power so formidable it once forced even Doflamingo to flee to the ends of the earth.
Back on the deck of the Moby Dick, Whitebeard kept a close eye on the shifting formation of the navy. His seasoned gaze spotted something—an unease in their positioning, a preparation for something more.
“Gurararara… Sengoku, always scheming…” he rumbled with a grin, voice laced with both respect and warning. “What kind of trap are you laying this time?”
Despite the growing tension, Whitebeard held his command. He wouldn’t act blindly. Not yet—not until he understood the shape of the storm the navy was preparing to unleash.
