The din of the surrounding battles seemed to fade into a dull roar, a distant storm. In the clearing carved by their arrival, Gunnar and Blackbeard stood as the twin poles of the conflict. The very air, heavy with the stench of sugar and malice, warped around them.
"Zehahahahaha!" Blackbeard's laugh boomed, a disgusting, arrogant sound. "You have your father's eyes, boy. But not his strength. He was a relic, and you? You're just his shadow!" He slammed his fists together, darkness swirling around his left hand, the sickly pink aura of the Soru Soru no Mi crackling around his right. "I'll snuff you out and take everything you have!"
Gunnar's response was not a word, but a movement. He took a single, heavy step forward. The ground did not crack from the force of his step. It simply... compressed.
"You failed to take his power at Marineford," Gunnar's voice was a low, guttural rumble, like stones grinding together deep within the earth. "You were too weak. Too cowardly."
He raised his right hand, his knuckles white.
Blackbeard laughed again, opening his palm. "Kurouzu! (Black Vortex!)" A whirlpool of absolute darkness manifested before him, its gravitational pull immense, designed to drag Gunnar in and nullify all his abilities. It was his signature move, the ultimate counter to any Devil Fruit user.
Gunnar didn't even try to resist the pull. He let it tug at him, and as he slid forward, he cocked his fist back.
"So allow me," Gunnar growled, his fist beginning to glow with a faint, white aura, "to show you what you missed."
He punched. Not at Blackbeard, but at the empty air in front of him.
KRA-KOOOM!
The world fractured. The air itself cracked like glass, sending terrifying white fault lines spiderwebbing towards Blackbeard. The Kurouzu didn't stand a chance; the very space it occupied was shattered, imploding with a deafening roar. The gravitational pull vanished, replaced by an apocalyptic shockwave that tore the ground asunder.
Blackbeard's eyes bulged in utter disbelief. He recognized that power. It was the one he had coveted above all others. He threw his arms up, coating them in Armament Haki and a thick layer of darkness, but the quake-shockwave slammed into him with the force of a moving continent.
He was sent flying, tumbling end over end like a cannonball, blood spraying from his mouth. He crashed through the remains of a gatehouse and plowed a deep furrow through the corrupted earth before coming to a stop.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of crumbling candy architecture.
Then, a wheezing, pained laugh echoed from the rubble. "Ze...hahaha... ZEHahahahaHA! You have it! The old man's power! Fate truly has a sense of humor!" Blackbeard pushed himself up, blood dripping from his chin, his grin wider and more manic than ever. "Wonderful! This saves me the trouble of digging up his corpse! I'll take it from you, along with that Titan fruit!"
He slammed his hands on the ground. "Gloom Homies!" The souls he had stolen from the island's fodder pirates were forcibly infused into his own darkness. The ground bubbled, and monstrous, vaguely humanoid figures made of pure darkness and screaming souls clawed their way into existence, their eyes glowing with the same pink energy as his.
As the gloom homies shambled forward, Blackbeard raised a hand towards Gunnar, pink tendrils of energy reaching out. He was trying to rip Gunnar's own soul from his body.
Gunnar didn't even look at the homies. A wave of invisible pressure exploded from him, so immense it felt like the sky was falling. Conqueror's Haki.
The soul tendrils disintegrated before they got within ten feet of him. The gloom homies froze, then dissolved back into inert darkness, the stolen souls within them utterly annihilated by the force of his will.
"You want to see my power, Teach?" Gunnar's voice was dangerously low. "Fine."
The ground beneath him began to hiss and steam. His red and white hair ignited with energy, one side glowing with the intensity of magma, the other shimmering with crystalline frost. He grew, his body distorting and expanding, muscles swelling, bones cracking and reforming.
He didn't stop until he stood over fifty feet tall, a true giant. His hybrid-Titan form was a terrifying spectacle. His right side was black, cracked rock with rivers of molten lava flowing through it, culminating in a single, glowing red horn. His left side was made of jagged, translucent blue ice, so cold it steamed, with a matching blue horn. His golden eyes burned with the heat of a star.
"ZEHAHAHAHA! YES! THAT'S IT!" Blackbeard screamed, a cocktail of fear and avarice in his eyes. He wasn't intimidated; he was enthralled. "A a true monster!"
Gunnar raised his colossal foot, wreathed in both lava and ice, and stomped. The resulting quake was a localized cataclysm, sending a fissure racing towards Blackbeard.
Teach acted fast. "Black Hole!" He spread his darkness across the ground, creating a void that swallowed the earthquake's energy whole. But he was forced to give ground, leaping back as the fissure still tore the earth apart.
"Your size just makes you a bigger target!" Blackbeard roared. He placed his massive hands on the ruins of the Whole Cake Chateau itself. "Come on, old hag! Let's have one last party! IKOKU SOVEREIGNTY!"
Using Big Mom's power on a scale only he could manage, he infused the entire, half-eaten castle with a massive infusion of stolen souls and his own darkness. The chateau groaned, the shattered windows becoming eyes, the main gate a gaping maw. It ripped itself from its foundations, becoming a colossal, multi-thousand-ton monster of gingerbread and hate, animated by Blackbeard's will. A dark parody of Big Mom's power.
The monster castle swung a tower like a club at Gunnar.
Gunnar met it with a punch. His lava-wreathed fist, coated in a shimmering layer of Conqueror's Haki, connected with the tower. The impact was silent for a split second before the sound arrived: a deafening BOOM that shattered every remaining piece of candy-glass on the island. The tower didn't just break; it vaporized into a cloud of molten sugar and dust.
"RAAAAGH!" Gunnar roared, a sound that was both human and monstrous.
He opened his maw, and from his throat erupted a torrent of pure, liquid magma. The Lava Breath scoured the side of the castle-homie, melting entire sections into slag. The castle groaned in pain, retaliating by firing giant candy-cane cannons from its ramparts.
Gunnar created a shield of crystalline ice to block the barrage, the projectiles shattering against its frozen surface.
This was no longer a fight between two men. It was a battle of mythological proportions. A walking volcano versus a living fortress.
Gunnar cocked back his right fist, the one that held the power of the Gura Gura no Mi. A sphere of white, shattering energy formed around it. He coated the entire fist in a thick, obsidian-black layer of Armament Haki, which was then overlaid with the crackling black-red lightning of his Conqueror's Haki.
Blackbeard, perched atop the castle's highest remaining spire, poured his own darkness into the structure, reinforcing it, preparing for the blow he knew was coming.
"COME ON, GUNNAR!" he screamed, his voice filled with mad ecstasy. "SHOW ME THE POWER THAT WILL MAKE ME KING OF THE WORLD!"
Gunnar swung.
The Titan's quake-infused, Haki-clad fist shot forward, aimed at the very heart of the monster castle.
The island groaned. The sky seemed to crack. The two forces, one of pure, inherited will and the other of stolen, gluttonous ambition, were about to collide in a blast that would reshape the island forever.
The titan's fist connected.
The explosion of power was unlike anything the island had ever experienced. It wasn't just sound; it was a physical tearing of reality. The colossal castle-homie, Blackbeard's ultimate trump card, was obliterated in an instant. The shockwave of the quake punch, amplified by Gunnar's titan strength and Conqueror's Haki, vaporized the structure and continued outward, peeling the very frosting off the island's crust for miles. The syrup-sea recoiled as if struck by a meteor, forming a temporary tidal wave.
From the heart of the dust cloud, Blackbeard shot out like a cannonball, his body a broken mess. He slammed into the ground, skidding for a hundred yards before coming to a stop in a heap.
Gunnar stood tall, his lava side glowing, his ice side steaming. The hybrid-titan form slowly began to shrink, steam and embers pouring off him as he returned to his human size. The transformation took a massive toll, and he landed on one knee, breathing heavily, his body radiating immense heat and cold.
"Is that all?" Gunnar rasped, his voice raw. "Was that your grand plan? Pathetic."
A wheezing, gurgling sound came from Blackbeard's crumpled form. A laugh. "Ze...ha... Zehahahahaha!" He pushed himself up, his bones audibly snapping back into place, a testament to his inhuman endurance. Blood poured from his mouth and a dozen wounds, but his grin was ecstatic. "THAT'S IT! THAT'S THE POWER! I FELT IT!"
Gunnar stood, his knuckles cracking. "Good. Feel it again."
He charged. Blackbeard met him, his own fist wreathed in darkness.
This was no longer a battle of titans and castles. This was a brawl. Brutal, personal, and ugly.
Gunnar's punch landed squarely on Blackbeard's jaw, the impact a sickening crunch. Blackbeard's head snapped to the side, but he ate the blow, his other hand lashing out and grabbing Gunnar's face. "Kurouzu!"
The familiar suction pulled at Gunnar, attempting to nullify his Devil Fruits. But Gunnar was ready. He grabbed Blackbeard's wrist with his other hand, a surge of Conqueror's Haki flowing through his grip, disrupting the vortex of darkness. He headbutted Blackbeard with a crack like a thunderclap, forcing him to release his hold.
"You rely on that trick too much," Gunnar growled, wiping blood from his lip.
"It always works!" Blackbeard roared back, swinging a wild, darkness-infused haymaker.
Gunnar ducked under it, driving his shoulder into Teach's gut. The force lifted the massive man off his feet. Gunnar didn't let him go. He wrapped his arms around Blackbeard's torso in a bear hug, squeezing with strength born from his Titan lineage. Ribs audibly cracked.
"ZEHAHAHA! YOU THINK YOU CAN HOLD ME?!" Blackbeard yelled, his face turning purple. He slammed his fists repeatedly onto Gunnar's back, each blow coated in Haki, feeling like he was trying to break down a stone wall.
"I can do more than hold you," Gunnar grunted, and with a primal roar, he heaved Blackbeard into the air and slammed him down into the ground, a crater forming from the impact.
Gunnar stood over him, raising his foot to stomp, but Blackbeard was faster than he looked. He rolled, spreading his darkness across the ground. "Black Hole!"
Gunnar was pulled down, his leg sinking into the void up to his knee. The darkness latched on, sapping his strength.
"My turn!" Blackbeard cackled, lunging forward. He wasn't aiming for a punch. He raised his hand, the pink energy of the Soru Soru no Mi crackling. He was going to try and rip Gunnar's soul out while he was immobilized.
But Gunnar's eyes flashed with golden light. He ignored his trapped leg and focused on his right fist. He slammed it into the ground next to him. KRAK!
The quake didn't travel outwards. It traveled inwards, destabilizing the very ground Blackbeard was using to anchor his darkness. The Black Hole wavered, its grip loosening for just a second.
It was enough. Gunnar ripped his leg free and launched himself at Blackbeard, tackling him to the ground. They rolled, a whirlwind of fists and fury. It was a dogfight. Gunnar landed a punch to Blackbeard's temple. Blackbeard gouged his claws into Gunnar's shoulder. Gunnar smashed an elbow into Blackbeard's nose, a spray of blood erupting.
They broke apart, both panting, both battered and bruised. They were a mirror of each other: two men brimming with immense power, driven by iron wills.
"You're strong, boy," Blackbeard admitted, spitting out a tooth. "I'll give you that. Stronger than Ace. Stronger than the old man was at the end."
"And you're still a rat," Gunnar snarled, his body aching. "Hiding behind cheap tricks and stolen power."
"Zehahahaha! It's not stolen if you're strong enough to take it!"
They stared at each other across the ruined landscape, a silent understanding passing between them. The warmup was over.
"I'm tired of this," Gunnar said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. He began to walk forward, slow and deliberate.
"So am I," Blackbeard agreed, his grin fading into a look of pure, murderous intent.
They met in the middle. There was no charge, no roar. Gunnar threw a straight right. Blackbeard threw a straight right. Their Haki-clad fists collided.
The island screamed. A dome of pure, destructive energy—black, red, pink, and white—erupted from the point of impact, annihilating everything within a hundred-meter radius. The shockwave sent even the distant commanders stumbling.
This was no longer a fight for territory or revenge. It was a clash to determine the future of the seas, fought in a dirty, bloody brawl between two monsters who refused to break.
The ground itself had become Avalo Pizarro's weapon. Katakuri, standing on a floating Peerless Donut of his own creation, watched as the "Corrupt King" fully merged his consciousness with the chateau and the surrounding island.
"Nowhere to run, mochi-man!" Pizarro's voice boomed, not from a single source, but from the groaning earth itself. "You are trespassing in the body of a king! For that, you will be buried in it!"
The very air became thick with malice. The ground swelled, and two colossal arms made of rock, gingerbread, and steel reinforcements ripped themselves free, each one the size of a warship. They swung at Katakuri from opposite sides, aiming to swat him out of the air like an insect.
Katakuri's eyes glowed, his advanced Observation Haki showing him the immediate future—the trajectory of the fists, the crumbling debris, the secondary shockwave. He was an island of calm in a sea of chaos.
"Your 'body' is slow and clumsy," Katakuri stated, his voice toneless. He abandoned his donut, leaping into the air. At the apex of his jump, his body twisted. "Nagare Mochi! (Flowing Mochi!)"
He transformed into a stream of thick, white mochi, flowing through the air with impossible fluidity. The two giant fists crashed into each other where he had been, the impact sending a tremor through the island and showering the area in a rain of rubble.
Before the dust even settled, Katakuri reformed, landing silently on Pizarro's outstretched stone arm. He began to run up it, his speed a blur.
"Get off me!" Pizarro roared. The surface of the arm warped, sharp spires of hardened rock candy erupting upwards, trying to impale Katakuri.
It was useless. Katakuri saw every spike before it formed. He weaved between them without breaking stride, his movements economical and precise. He was not just dodging; he was flowing through a pre-ordained path he had already witnessed.
He reached the massive shoulder of the stone avatar and leaped towards the colossal head. In mid-air, he activated his awakening once more. "Muso Donuts! (Unrivaled Donuts!)"
Dozens of mochi donuts materialized around Pizarro's head, boxing it in. From each one, a massive, Haki-blackened arm shot out, all converging on the stone face.
"A king does not fall to such parlor tricks!" Pizarro bellowed. The stone head hardened, glowing with a deep, powerful sheen of Armament Haki.
The mochi fists slammed into the face with the force of a meteor shower. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! CRACK! The sound was deafening. Cracks spiderwebbed across the Haki-infused stone, but it held.
"See?" Pizarro's voice boomed triumphantly, though it was strained. "Useless!"
"That wasn't the attack," Katakuri's voice droned, now coming from directly behind the stone head.
While Pizarro had focused all his defensive Haki on his face to tank the blow, Katakuri himself had used the barrage as a diversion. He'd flowed through one of his own donuts, appearing behind the avatar. His right leg was already drawn back, swollen to an incredible size with mochi and spinning at a dizzying speed. A thick, square-shaped layer of Busoshoku Haki coated his foot, giving it a brutal, blocky appearance.
"This is."
"Kaku Mochi! (Square Mochi!)"
He unleashed the kick. It struck the back of the stone head, an area left undefended. The power of the blow, amplified by his strength and Haki, was devastating. The cracks from the front of the face instantly shot through to the back, and the entire colossal head exploded in a shower of rock and candy shrapnel.
The island itself seemed to scream in pain. The giant arms went limp, crumbling back into the earth.
For a moment, there was silence. Katakuri landed gracefully, his trident, Mogura, in hand. He knew it wasn't over. A Devil Fruit user like Pizarro wouldn't have his core in such an obvious location. He scanned the area, his Kenbunshoku Haki peeling back the layers of reality, searching for the tell-tale pulse of Pizarro's consciousness.
There.
It was deep underground, beneath the very foundations of the chateau's ruins. A faint, panicked flicker.
"I see you," Katakuri murmured.
He stomped his foot. "Zan-giri Mochi! (Slicing Mochi!)"
His leg transformed into mochi, elongating and sharpening into a ridged, Haki-coated drill. It shot downwards, piercing the earth with incredible force, burrowing deep into the island's crust like a living missile, aimed directly at the hidden presence of Avalo Pizarro.
The ground groaned and trembled as Katakuri's attack drilled deeper and deeper. Then, a muffled, furious roar of pain echoed up from the depths. The entire area convulsed violently. The earth itself was fighting back.
A massive shockwave erupted from below, forcing Katakuri's leg back out of the hole it had created. He landed, his expression grim.
The ground began to reform. But this time, it wasn't a single, slow avatar. The entire central plaza began to rise, transforming into a gargantuan, monstrous form. It was a horrifying centaur-like beast made of earth and stone, with four thick legs and a vaguely humanoid torso. At its heart, embedded in the chest like a grotesque pilot in a suit of armor, was the true body of Avalo Pizarro, now visible. He was panting, a trickle of blood on his lips from where Katakuri's probing attack had found him.
"Alright, mochi-man! No more games!" Pizarro roared, his real voice now syncing with the stone beast's. "You found the king! Now you face his royal fury!"
The stone centaur reared up, its two massive fists raised high, and slammed them down. The attack was not aimed at Katakuri, but at the entire area, an indiscriminate attempt to pulverize everything.
Katakuri leaped back, his eyes glowing brighter than ever. He had seen the future of this new form—its power, its speed, and its single, glaring weakness: Pizarro himself was now the target.
He landed, coiling his body like a spring. He thrust his trident forward, and his arm elongated, turning into a spiraling drill of mochi. It was a familiar move, but charged with a new level of focus and intent.
"Mochi Guri! (Mochi Drill!)"
The stone centaur brought its fists down to crush him, but Katakuri was faster. His drilling arm shot forward, a silver-and-white blur aimed not at the stone, but at the one fleshy part of the entire monstrous construction.
The man who could see the future was on a collision course with the man who had become an island.
The battlefield had become a maelstrom of destruction, centered on two colossal forces. Pizarro's earth-golem, a masterpiece of his Shima Shima no Mi, was a walking fortress, each step shaking the very foundations of the island. Katakuri, a blur of white and black, was a phantom of precision, his every move dictated by a future only he could see.
"You can't break me!" Pizarro's voice, amplified by his stone avatar, boomed with maniacal confidence. "I AM THIS LAND! I AM ETERNAL!"
He swung his massive stone arms in wide, devastating arcs, pulverizing the ground and sending shockwaves of debris flying. But it was like trying to swat a ghost. Katakuri, guided by his Kenbunshoku Haki, flowed around each attack, using his Mochi-Mochi fruit to propel himself through the air, creating and discarding platforms of hardened mochi as needed.
He saw it all: Pizarro's rage, his desperation, the slight tremble in the golem's left arm that signaled its next attack. He saw the future where the stone fist would slam down, and he was already moving to counter it.
"Your 'eternity' is built on a flaw," Katakuri's voice droned, cutting through the roar of destruction. His voice was calm, a chilling contrast to Pizarro's raging bellows.
He thrust his trident, Mogura, forward. It elongated and spun, but instead of aiming for Pizarro's exposed body, he struck the golem's knee joint with his Mochi Guri. The drill didn't shatter the rock; it exploited a natural fissure Katakuri had foreseen, burrowing deep inside. Once lodged, Katakuri flooded the joint with a massive amount of sticky, unhardened mochi.
"What are you doing?!" Pizarro roared, trying to move the leg. It wouldn't budge. The joint was gummed up, immobilized by a mass of hyper-adhesive mochi. The colossal golem stumbled, its balance compromised.
This was the opening.
"The flaw," Katakuri stated, his eyes glowing with an intense crimson light, "is you."
He abandoned his defensive posture. It was time to end it. He landed on the ground, planting his feet firmly, and his entire body began to swell and transform. This was no mere Mochi arm or leg; this was his ultimate awakened form.
"Awakening: Kagami Mochi! (Mirror Mochi!)"
His body inflated to a gargantuan size, becoming a towering, multi-armed Asura-like deity made of pure, white mochi, hardened to the consistency of steel with Busoshoku Haki. He was now a titan of mochi, easily matching the scale of Pizarro's golem. Four massive arms, each one clutching a gigantic, Haki-blackened trident made of mochi, sprouted from his back.
Pizarro stared in a mixture of awe and terror. "What... what in the hell ARE you?!"
The mochi-titan's face was impassive, its eyes burning with the cold light of prophecy. It raised all four of its secondary arms, the tridents aimed at the heavens.
"Judgement."
The four tridents shot forward with impossible speed, a synchronized volley of destruction. "Chikara Mochi: Peerless Power!" They didn't strike the golem, but plunged into the earth around it, pinning its remaining limbs and torso to the ground. The golem was crucified, immobilized completely.
Pizarro screamed in fury and panic, trying to wrench his avatar free, but the Haki-infused mochi held fast, stronger than steel. He was trapped, his true body a helpless target in the center of the paralyzed stone beast.
Katakuri's primary arms, the ones of his own body, pulled back. He focused all his remaining power, all his will, into one final, decisive blow. His fists swelled, hardening into two massive, square-shaped battering rams of obsidian-black Haki. The air around them crackled with condensed power.
He saw the future crystal clear: Pizarro's scream, the shattering of stone, the silence that followed.
"For my family," he whispered, a rare flicker of raw emotion in his voice.
He unleashed the final attack. "Zan-giri Mochi: Final Cut!"
The two massive fists shot forward, not as a punch, but as a pincer. They didn't just strike the stone chest plate protecting Pizarro. They slammed into it from both sides with the force of a tectonic collision.
The sound was absolute. A deafening, final CRACK that was felt more than it was heard. The Haki-infused stone, the strongest defense Pizarro could muster, couldn't withstand the focused, awakened power of a Yonko Commander. It imploded, shattering inward like a pane of glass.
The attack carried through, slamming directly into Avalo Pizarro's real body.
His roar was cut short, replaced by a choked, wet gasp. The light in his eyes faded. The colossal stone golem, its consciousness extinguished, crumbled instantly. The arms, legs, and torso disintegrated into a mountain of rubble and dust, releasing the mochi tridents.
When the dust settled, Katakuri stood in the center of a newly formed crater, slowly shrinking back to his normal size. He was panting, the use of his ultimate form having drained a significant amount of stamina.
At his feet lay Avalo Pizarro, unconscious and broken, buried beneath a small pile of the very island he sought to command.
Katakuri adjusted his scarf, his gaze already sweeping across the wider battlefield, searching for his next opponent. The Corrupt King had fallen.