Crocodile's dramatic intervention had thrown Marineford into yet another paroxysm of disbelief. The execution of Portgas D. Ace, moments from completion, was now on hold. Sengoku raged from the command platform, his face turning a shade of purple usually reserved for his Buddha transformation.
While the immediate focus was on the scaffold, Admiral Kizaru, who had been zipping around harassing the pirates, saw an opportunity. With Whitebeard on the ice, he decided to apply pressure from another angle.
"Ooooh, how very… gritty," Kizaru drawled, his lazy smile firmly in place. "A little light should clear things right up." He transformed into a beam of blinding yellow, streaking towards the Moby Dick. "Yata no Kagami!" He formed his light mirror, preparing to bounce and strike.
But before his attack could materialize, a figure moved with a speed that was a law unto itself. This was not a pirate, nor a familiar Marine. He was an man, wiry but with an undeniable air of lethal grace, clad in simple, dark robes. His black hair was tied back, and his eyes glinted with a samurai's keenness. In his hand, he wielded a single, unadorned katana. This was Isshin Ashina, the Sword Saint.
"That's far enough, Admiral," Isshin's voice was calm, aged, yet carried undeniable authority. His katana flashed, a silver streak against Kizaru's yellow brilliance.
CLANG!
Kizaru, forced to partially materialize to block the strike, looked genuinely surprised. "Oya oya? Well now… I remember you! That was… quite a swift blade."
Isshin didn't answer with words. He flowed into a series of incredibly fast, precise slashes. Each strike was aimed with deadly accuracy, forcing Kizaru to constantly reform and redirect his light-form. It was a dazzling display—pure, unadulterated swordsmanship against the almost intangible power of light.
"Your movements, though fast, are built on straight lines," Isshin stated, his blade a continuous blur. "A simple pattern to discern."
While Kizaru was unexpectedly occupied, "Diamond" Jozu, guarding Whitebeard's flank, saw his chance. Kizaru, distracted and partially tangible, was momentarily vulnerable.
"ADMIRAL!" Jozu roared, his diamond-encrusted body gleaming. He charged, a human diamond-tipped missile, and slammed into Kizaru with a tremendous shoulder tackle.
CRRAAACK-BOOM!
The impact was like a freight train hitting a wall. Kizaru, caught off guard, was sent flying like a pinball of light, crashing into a distant Marine barracks with a deafening explosion.
"Hmph," Jozu grunted, satisfied. He gave a respectful nod towards Isshin. "Thanks for the opening, Brother."
Isshin sheathed his katana with a soft click. "Everyone is so energetic," he sighed, before melting back into the chaos.
Meanwhile, Luffy, witnessing Crocodile's shocking intervention, was pushing forward with renewed vigor. The sight of Ace still alive fueled him.
He was battered, bleeding, but his spirit was an unquenchable flame. He used a Marine's head as a springboard, barrel-rolled under a Pacifista's laser, and continued his desperate scramble.
On the main front, the clash of emperors was imminent. Admiral Akainu, his body radiating an infernal heat, finally stood before Whitebeard. The ice around them had long since melted into a steaming, muddy morass. The air crackled with tension.
"So, you've finally come down from your throne, Whitebeard," Akainu sneered, magma dripping from his fists. "Or did you just get lost on your way to the retirement home?"
Whitebeard's eyes, ancient and filled with a weary sorrow, narrowed. "Sakazuki… Your twisted 'absolute justice' is just an excuse to burn children." His grip tightened on his bisento, the veins on his massive arms bulging. "You have caused my sons enough pain. For that… there will be a reckoning."
"Justice demands the eradication of pirates like you!" Akainu roared. "DAI FUNKA!" He launched a colossal fist of magma, an eruption of pure destructive power, directly at Whitebeard.
Whitebeard met the attack head-on. He swung his bisento, not with finesse, but with the raw, earth-shattering power of the Gura Gura no Mi.
KRA-BOOOOOM!
Magma met quake-infused steel. The resulting explosion was cataclysmic. A shockwave tore outwards, sending pirates and Marines alike tumbling.
A geyser of superheated steam erupted where the attacks collided. When the steam cleared, both men stood their ground. A slight burn mark sizzled on Akainu's cheek where a fragment of Whitebeard's Haki had grazed him.
Whitebeard was breathing heavier, a trickle of blood seeping from the corner of his mouth—a testament to his age, his existing injuries, and the sheer ferocity of Akainu's magma.
"You're old, Whitebeard!" Akainu snarled, pressing his advantage. "Your era is over! It's time for pirates like you to be purged!" He unleashed another barrage of magma fists. "RYUSEI KAZAN!"
Whitebeard roared, a sound of pure, defiant power. He spun his bisento, creating a shield of quake vibrations that shattered the incoming magma fists, though globules of molten rock splashed onto his arms and chest, searing his flesh. He gritted his teeth against the pain. He stomped his foot, and the ground beneath Akainu buckled violently.
Akainu leaped back, avoiding the fracturing earth, and retaliated by sending a wave of molten rock surging across the ground. "MAGMA GEYSER!"
Whitebeard met it with another quake punch, parting the magma wave like the sea, though the intense heat washed over him.
While the giants of the era clashed in a cataclysm of magma and quakes, Ragnar remained momentarily grounded. He stood amidst the shattered ice, his red hair plastered to his brow with sweat, his golden eyes scanning the maelstrom with a profound, unsettling sense of annoyance. It wasn't just a battle; it was a headache made manifest.
The towering figure of Whitebeard, locked in combat with Akainu, drew his gaze with a magnetic pull. The sight of the old Emperor—the iconic mustache, the sheer, indomitable will—was an irritation, and Sadness, felt like his heart was about to give in. It felt familiar, but a familiar, nagging pain, not a fond memory.
He saw Luffy, a small, determined blur, weaving through the frontlines. A surge of conflicting impulses warred within him.
"This is all taking way too long," he muttered to himself. "Maybe if I punch that noisy kid, everyone will quiet down."
With a frustrated sigh that was more about his own internal static than any real anger, Ragnar leaped. His target: Straw Hat Luffy. His speed was formidable, a predator striking to end a nuisance.
Luffy, focused solely on Ace, sensed the approaching threat at the last second. He turned, eyes widening as the red-haired Warlord bore down on him.
But before Ragnar could reach him, another figure materialized with startling speed, a whirlwind of sand and a glint of gold.
Sir Crocodile, his hook raised, his expression a mask of cold fury, interposed himself between them.
"Well, now," Crocodile drawled, his voice laced with a venomous satisfaction. "Fancy meeting you here. Still alive, I see. What a disappointment." His eyes, cold and sharp, raked over Ragnar. "Or should I still call you... Gunnar?" He savored the name.
Ragnar skidded to a halt, his golden eyes narrowing. "You. Sand guy. Bad time for a reunion. I'm busy."
Crocodile let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Oh, I think my schedule just opened up. You see, you and I have some unfinished business. Very old, very personal business."
Ragnar stared, genuinely perplexed. This was getting more and more bothersome. "Listen, I don't keep a diary of every stray cat I kick. If I owe you money, send me a bill."
"No recollection?" Crocodile's sneer deepened into something far more dangerous. "Convenient. You don't remember leaving me to rot in a New World gutter? Pity. I've been replaying it every day in my cell for years. That blank, bored look in your eyes... it's the same one you had right before your hot-headed crew tried to tear my heart out."
Ragnar's brow furrowed. The man was clearly insane. And loud. "Sounds like a you-problem."
"It's about to become a you-problem," Crocodile hissed. "SABLES!"
Without further warning, he thrust his hook forward. A compressed blade of hardened sand, razor-sharp and incredibly fast, shot towards Ragnar.
Ragnar reacted, demeanor vanishing in an instant. He brought his forearm up, wrapped in Haki.
SHINK!
The sand blade sliced through what was left of his leather bracer, drawing a line of blood before his Haki stopped it cold. He grunted, surprised by the power.
"You broke my bracer," Ragnar said, his voice now flat and cold, the lazy drawl gone. "Do you know how hard it is to get good leather?" He shoved the sand blade away. "Alright, you have my attention."
He lunged, aiming a powerful right cross at Crocodile's jaw. All the bored lethargy vanished, replaced not by the cold precision of a killer, but by the overwhelming, simple force of a landslide. "Let's end this quickly," Ragnar said, his voice flat. "I have other business to attend to."
Crocodile, with the fluidity of his Logia fruit, partially dispersed his lower body into sand to absorb the brunt of the impact, then reformed, retaliating with a sweep of his hook.
CLANG!
Ragnar parried the hook with his bracer again, the force of the blow sending a jarring shock up his arm.
"DESERT GIRASOLE!" Crocodile slammed his hand onto the ice, and a swirling vortex of quicksand began to form rapidly around Ragnar's feet, attempting to pull him down into the frigid water below. "That day, That Katana missed by heart by an Inch. Weevil managed to escape, but I couldn't because I was barely breathing!"
Ragnar leaped back with an explosive burst of power, shattering the ice where he'd stood and avoiding the trap. His golden eyes narrowed. This sand-user was proving to be a surprisingly tenacious opponent, fueled by a hatred Ragnar couldn't comprehend. "Did I jog a memory? Ha-Quake Kid!"
"I told you," Ragnar said, his voice tight with annoyance, "I have no idea what damned nonsense you're talking about." A dangerous, heavy aura began to radiate from him. "But if you're going to keep getting in my way, Sand-Freak, then I'll just have to break you."
Luffy, momentarily forgotten by the two Warlords locked in their sudden, personal vendetta, seized his chance. "Thanks, weird Sand-guy who helped Ace!" he yelled, then, with a renewed burst of speed, he scrambled past them, continuing his desperate rush towards his brother.