At the same moment, closer to the center of the bay, Akainu, still facing Mihawk, flashed a smirk despite his injuries. Magma crackled around him, his slashed chest oozing lava, but his eyes gleamed with cruel satisfaction as he saw Sengoku step in. "Look at that," he growled, his voice hoarse and mocking. "Your efforts are pointless. Justice always wins. These vermin will be crushed—and you along with them!"
Inside Mihawk's mind, Leo felt a surge of adrenaline.
Oh, he's already here?
A smile—a real one, rare for Mihawk's stoic face—curved the swordsman's lips. He plunged Yoru into the ice before him, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. "He took his time," he said, his low, sharp voice cutting through the clamor. Then, fixing Akainu with an icy challenge, he added, "You talk too much, Sakazuki."
Akainu's brow furrowed, thrown off. The magma around his fists flared hotter. But before he could strike, a shout rang out in the distance, followed by an overwhelming presence that made the air itself tremble.
A streak of red flashed across the bay at blinding speed. A figure appeared in front of Luffy's group just as Sengoku's fist was about to crash down. A blade—Gryphon, the legendary sword—rose in a perfect arc, meeting the Buddha's golden palm with a deafening CLANG. The impact unleashed a massive shockwave, cracking the ice for dozens of meters and forcing Sengoku's fist back. The golden light flickered, and the fleet admiral staggered back a step, his eyes widening in shock.
Shanks the Red stood there, his black cape billowing in the wind, his red hair blazing like a flame under the stormy sky. His single arm gripped Gryphon with unyielding strength, and an aura of Conqueror's Haki—stronger than anything the bay had felt before—burst around him, dropping weaker fighters, pirates and Marines alike, to their knees. Another Emperor had entered the fray.
Ace and Hancock looked up, stunned. Ace blinked in disbelief, while Hancock, though wary, lowered her hands slightly, recognizing the power of the man before them.
Sengoku, still in his Buddha form, glared at Shanks with a mix of anger and suspicion. "Red-Hair… What are you doing here?" he thundered, his voice rumbling like a storm. "Do you dare stand against the Marines?"
Shanks met Sengoku's gaze, calm but unyielding. "I agree with you, Fleet Admiral Sengoku," he said, his deep voice carrying natural authority. "This war needs to end. But not like this—not by crushing lives for an order that's falling apart. Too much blood has been spilled today."
Sengoku clenched his fists, the gold of his skin glinting under the strain. "You're talking peace now, pirate?" he shot back, his voice quaking with restrained fury. "The rotten roots must be torn out!"
Shanks shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "Really? Look where that's gotten us. Whitebeard's dead. This war has no purpose anymore. Let them go, Sengoku. End it here."
Back at the bay's center, Akainu, seeing Shanks intervene, roared in frustration. "Red-Hair?!" he spat, magma flaring around him like a tempest. He shot a furious glare at Mihawk. "You knew he'd show up, didn't you? You think this changes anything? Justice will prevail!"
Mihawk, unflinching, yanked Yoru from the ice with a sharp motion, his golden eyes locking onto Akainu with cool amusement. "Maybe," he replied, his voice low and cutting. "But your triumph will wait for another day, Sakazuki."
Inside, Leo was ecstatic.
Shanks! Holy crap, this is too perfect!
He'd hoped for this moment, an iconic scene he knew from the manga, but experiencing it live was on another level.
Akainu snarled, ready to charge despite his wounds, but Shanks' arrival had frozen the bay in a new tension. The fighting slowed—Marco and Vista paused against Kizaru and Kuma, while Teach, Kuzan, and the others turned their eyes to the center. Everyone sensed something monumental unfolding.
Sengoku, still towering in his colossal form, stared at Shanks for a long moment, his golden fist hovering in the air. Then, slowly, he lowered his arm, the gold of his skin fading as he reverted to human form. His face was etched with anger. "You're playing a dangerous game, Red-Hair."
Shanks' arrival, his Conqueror's Haki bursting like a silent storm, had halted the chaos, forcing every fighter—pirate, Marine, Shichibukai—to turn their gaze to the bay's center. Sengoku, back in human form, faced the Emperor, his expression tight with rage and exhaustion, while Shanks radiated unshakable calm.
Suddenly, a low rumble echoed from the distance. The bay's churning waters parted, and a majestic ship emerged on the horizon, its dragon-shaped figurehead slicing through the waves. Shanks' crew disembarked in imposing silence, their figures stark against the stormy sky. Benn Beckman, Shanks' right-hand man, chewed his cigar, a rifle slung over his shoulder. Lucky Roo, grinning wide, hefted a massive chunk of meat, while Yasopp, the sharpshooter, adjusted his headband with practiced nonchalance. The rest followed, each exuding raw power.
Shanks lifted his piercing gaze to Sengoku, his eyes cutting through the fleet admiral like a blade. "Think carefully, Sengoku," he said, his deep voice rising above the ice's creaking. "This war's already cost too much. Keep fighting, and you'll only feed an endless cycle. Let them go, and let's end this madness."
Sengoku's fists clenched, knuckles cracking under the pressure. His narrowed eyes, burning with rage, swept across the bay—the wreckage, the dead, the chaos left by hours of battle. He knew Shanks was right, but the thought of yielding to a pirate—an Emperor, no less—made his blood boil. Yet he also saw the reality: the Marines were spent, their forces scattered, and Shanks' intervention shifted the balance. He took a deep, shuddering breath, then turned to his men.
"Marines!" he roared, his voice booming like a cannon shot. "Lower your weapons! Let the surviving pirates leave!" A ripple of shock ran through the ranks, but no one dared object. Sengoku fixed Shanks with a glare that could melt steel. "The Marines have won. Whitebeard is dead. That victory is enough… for today."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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