As the five Shichibukai took their stances, the atmosphere on the field grew unbearably tense.
It felt like even the air had frozen.
Many young Marines swallowed nervously, their scalps tingling from the pressure.
Staff Officer Tsuru quietly approached Sengoku and spoke in a low voice.
"We can't let this drag on. The title conferment ceremony is about to begin. Ships from major news outlets around the world have already passed through the Gate of Justice and will arrive at Marineford any moment now."
Sengoku, who had been watching with some amusement, frowned and responded in a hushed tone.
"What's the rush? Not everyone's arrived yet."
Tsuru gave him a sidelong glance. After working together for so many years, she saw right through him and couldn't help but say irritably,
"The Intelligence Division already has visual Den Den Mushi set up. Everything here is being recorded."
"If we wait until the press actually arrives and this chaos is still ongoing, we won't be able to control what they write."
The reminder snapped Sengoku out of his mood.
He immediately understood.
The Marine's own Intelligence Division had already captured enough footage. If he stepped in now, they could shape the narrative.
But if he waited too long and let independent journalists get their footage instead, who knew what kind of wild headlines they'd come up with to boost their sales?
At that point, tomorrow's front page could easily go from "Marine Admiral Sengoku Dominates the Shichibukai with Authority" to "Shichibukai Run Wild in Marineford, Justice Humiliated."
Realizing this, Sengoku shot Tsuru a grateful look.
Thank goodness for Tsuru. As expected from the one overseeing both Staff and Intelligence—this was her specialty.
"Mm. You're absolutely right…"
Sengoku nodded solemnly.
"That's exactly what I was thinking."
Then she saw Sengoku clear his throat, stepping forward to draw everyone's attention. With a calm, confident smile, he addressed the five hostile Shichibukai.
"It's about time. If you have personal grudges, settle them in private later."
"For now, let's stop here. Show an old man some—"
Sudden footsteps thundered against the ground.
Sengoku's voice had completely broken the fragile tension on the field—setting off the powder keg.
All five Shichibukai lunged from their positions at once, launching attacks on their respective targets.
Sengoku's expression froze. His movements stiffened.
No one listened to him.
They didn't even look his way.
Sharp threads of silk hissed through the air and slammed into the massive black blade, sending sparks flying.
Doflamingo's pink-feathered coat flared behind him as he sneered at the calm-faced Mihawk, a mad grin twisting his features.
"Fufufufu... Even though that black sword of yours is chipped, it still looks pretty good. I've got a friend who loves collecting rare Meito."
A glint of killing intent finally flashed in Mihawk's eyes.
"If you're not afraid to die, go ahead and try."
With a twist of his wrist, Mihawk flipped his sword and forced Doflamingo back. Then, like a hawk diving on prey, he surged forward, blade moving like a phantom, locking onto the flamingo's wings.
Their clashes erupted again and again, shockwaves ripping through the ground, slicing into buildings and cannons—leaving deep, jarring gouges that forced the surrounding Marines to back away in panic.
Elsewhere on the field, Fisher Tiger was holding off both Moria and Crocodile on his own.
"Fish-Man Karate: Gosenmaigawara Seiken!"
A powerful punch, charged with the raw strength of the Fish-Man race, landed dead center and blasted the incoming Desert Spada into a cloud of shattered sand.
As the grit scattered through the air, Fisher Tiger stomped down. From the sea near the edge of the port, a towering column of water surged upward.
With a light wave of his massive red hand, the water column twisted like it had a will of its own, transforming into a high-pressure torrent that erupted with force.
"Fish-Man Jujutsu: Mizugokoro—Kairyu Ipponzeoi!"
The water cannon tore through Moria's swarm of shadow bats and forced both Moria and Crocodile into a hasty retreat. The most update n0vels are published on NoveI★Fire.net
Their expressions had grown dark—gone was the swagger from moments ago.
This damn fishman's strength alone was already on par with theirs. But combined with the Fish-Man race's natural control over water, and the port's proximity to the sea, Fisher Tiger now held a crushing advantage over the two Devil Fruit users.
Crocodile felt especially miserable. The seawater had drenched him, and now even his Logia powers were sluggish. His Suna-Suna no Mi was being completely suppressed by this fishman.
Chaos erupted across the battlefield.
Sand raged, blades flashed, shadows writhed, seawater screamed through the air... A flurry of techniques exploded across the arena. The military port beneath them shook violently under the sheer pressure, groaning under the strain.
Sengoku was still standing there with one hand half-raised, the confident smile on his face frozen in place.
Under the awkward stares of countless Marines, his old face flushed slightly. He silently lowered his hand.
"The Shichibukai are really something... Not a single one even bothered to show you respect, Admiral Sengoku."
Borsalino commented casually, looking regretful.
"Want me to just take them all down?"
The surrounding Marines: "..."
Staff Officer Tsuru buried her face in her hand.
"Borsalino... Sometimes silence is a gift."
Sengoku growled, gritting his teeth with a forced expression.
Borsalino raised both hands innocently.
"I was just trying to back you up, Admiral Sengoku... but that look on your face is terrifying."
Clutching his chest, Sengoku's face contorted in pain.
Suddenly, a sharp buzzing rang out from the distant sky.
It grew louder and closer, like some kind of deadly weapon slicing through the air at high speed.
Sengoku's face shifted slightly.
Borsalino raised an intrigued eyebrow.
The five Shichibukai locked in fierce combat all sensed it at once. Their pupils shrank.
A chill surged up from the soles of their feet, racing along their spines and exploding in their minds.
Their scalps tingled. Every pore screamed in alarm.
Overwhelmed by a surge of danger, the five simultaneously abandoned their fights. As if driven by instinct, they threw themselves backward without hesitation.
Two razor-sharp beams of light, one black and one white, shot down from the sky like phantoms and struck the earth.
The entire massive elliptical port trembled violently, and a thick cloud of dust shot into the air.