Chapter 67: The Last Chapter (I)

Marineford was a cacophony of chaos, its once-proud structures reduced to smoldering rubble. The cries of wounded soldiers mixed with the relentless roar of cannon fire, and the sharp clang of steel reverberated across the battlefield. Amid this storm of carnage, two titans prepared for a confrontation that would be etched into history. On one side stood Whitebeard, the strongest man in the world, and on the other, Sengoku, the venerable Fleet Admiral of the Marines.

Whitebeard towered above the chaos, his colossal frame bearing the marks of a lifetime of battles. His once-pristine white coat hung in tatters, stained with blood and dirt. A deep, gaping wound marred his abdomen, yet his presence remained unyielding, commanding respect and fear in equal measure. Leaning on his legendary naginata, Murakumogiri, Whitebeard gazed across the battlefield with eyes that burned with determination despite their weariness.

On the other side, Sengoku's form radiated divine power, his golden Buddha transformation shimmering with a celestial glow. He exuded a steady authority, his massive hands glowing with destructive energy as if preparing to render judgment. While his body was encased in golden light, his eyes carried the burden of decades spent upholding justice.

"How many years has it been, Sengoku?" Whitebeard's voice rumbled like an impending storm, deep and resonant. "Since the last time we truly clashed? I don't mean those petty skirmishes or games—I mean a real fight."

Sengoku stood firm, his gaze unwavering as the golden energy pulsing around him illuminated the destruction. "Too many years," he replied, his tone even but touched with a faint melancholy. "We've both been too busy carrying the weight of our worlds to settle old scores."

Whitebeard let out a low, guttural laugh that reverberated through the battlefield, though it lacked the mirth of younger days. "Don't sugar-coat it, Sengoku. We're old men now. Ten years ago, that brat Akainu wouldn't have even grazed me." He gestured to the wound in his torso, blood trickling from its edges. "And now look at me—time's a cruel mistress."

Sengoku frowned but kept his tone steady. "This isn't the time for sentimentality, Whitebeard. This is war."

A smirk spread across Whitebeard's face, his hand tightening around the shaft of Murakumogiri. "Straight to the point, as always. You've never been one for words. At least Garp knows how to laugh every now and then."

Ignoring the jab, Sengoku allowed his gaze to flicker momentarily to a distant figure—a cloaked man wielding a blade crackling with red lightning. His voice turned wary.

"How did you manage to find someone like him?"

Whitebeard followed Sengoku's gaze and let out another chuckle. "The brat? Met him two days ago. I didn't know about his existence before then. In a way, he was the one that found my crew."

"Two days?" Sengoku's brow furrowed. "And he managed to orchestrate all this?"

Whitebeard shrugged, his massive shoulders heaving. "Sharp kid. But let's stop wasting breath, Sengoku. If we're going to do this, let's do it right."

The two legends squared off, their towering forms emanating a presence so overwhelming that the surrounding battles slowed as if the air itself grew heavier. Marines and pirates alike hesitated, their fights forgotten as they turned to witness the clash of giants. Both these men knew that this was the last time they'll fight each other. So, they were going to make it count.

Without further words, Whitebeard struck first. With a swing of Murakumogiri, he unleashed a quake-infused shockwave that tore through the battlefield. The very ground shattered beneath its force, cracks spreading like jagged spiderwebs. Sengoku braced himself, raising a massive golden palm to meet the attack head-on. The collision sent a deafening boom echoing across Marineford, soldiers and debris hurled through the air as the ground trembled violently.

Neither man held back. Whitebeard's strikes came with relentless fury, his naginata gleaming with destructive energy that cleaved through anything in its path. Sengoku countered with golden fists radiating shockwaves powerful enough to split mountains. Each collision left craters in the earth, reducing the already battered landscape to a mess of rubble and ash.

"You've slowed down, Whitebeard," Sengoku said between clashes, his voice steady despite the strain of battle. Blood seeped from his golden palms, but he stood his ground. "Is this the best you've got?"

Whitebeard grinned, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. "Big words for someone barely holding on."

Their titanic battle continued, each strike shaking Marineford to its core. The ground beneath them was fractured and broken, while the air itself seemed to ripple with the sheer force of their attacks. Around them, the chaos of war raged on, yet no one dared to intervene. This was a clash far beyond the reach of ordinary men.

Suddenly, a beam of light cut through the air with blinding speed. Kizaru's attack struck Whitebeard's wounded side, forcing the pirate to stagger. Whitebeard winced in pain but retaliated with a wild swing of Murakumogiri. Kizaru dissolved into shimmering light, dodging the strike with ease. Before the admiral could counter, a streak of blue flames collided with him mid-air. Marco, Whitebeard's first division commander, slammed into Kizaru, their ensuing battle spiraling into chaos above.

Whitebeard, his breathing labored, turned his attention back to Sengoku. "Stay out of my way!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the very air around him.

Sengoku took the opportunity to go on the offensive. He lunged forward, a massive golden palm glowing with concentrated energy as it aimed straight for Whitebeard's chest. The pirate countered with his own punch, their fists colliding in an explosion of force that sent soldiers and debris flying in all directions.

The tide of battle seemed to shift again with a deafening explosion from the far side of Marineford. Both Whitebeard and Sengoku paused, their attention drawn to the source. Amidst the smoldering ruins, Akainu's battered form lay crumpled. His body now carried a scar that seemed to dismember his body in two. He was going to die without proper medical attention.

Whitebeard's grin widened, his booming laughter ringing out across the battlefield.

"Gurararara! He's done it! That brat took down an admiral!"

Sengoku's expression darkened, his voice sharp. "That wasn't a fair fight." He too had seen Blackbeard's intervention. But this was never a duel. Their fight was a three-way battle. It was Akainu's own fault that he thought that those two pirates will team up. Even for just a moment.

The comment drew a growl from Whitebeard. "Fair fight? Don't make me laugh. You've pulled every trick in the book to try to bring me down. Now you want to talk about fairness? Don't be a hypocrite, Sengoku."

With a roar, Whitebeard raised his massive hands and gripped the very air, his fingers twisting and pulling as if manipulating the fabric of reality itself. The battlefield tilted violently, the ground cracking and heaving as though the world was bending to his will. Marines and pirates alike stumbled, struggling to stay on their feet as the earth shifted beneath them.

"What are you doing, Whitebeard?" Sengoku shouted, his voice tinged with alarm.

Whitebeard laughed, his voice echoing like rolling thunder. "Yesterday, a brat asked me to choose between life and legacy. I've thought about for quite some time." His voice rose, booming across Marineford. "Then I asked myself, why was I even thinking about these kind of stuff. I'm Whitebeard! I don't choose one or the other—I TAKE EVERYTHING!"

The ground trembled violently, massive fissures spreading outward as the sea roared in response to Whitebeard's power. Sengoku's golden form flickered as he steadied himself, his gaze narrowing with determination.

The last chapter of Marineford war is nearing it's end.