"Whoa, Marco actually charged straight at him!"
"Though this young rear admiral's courage is commendable, forget facing Pops directly—he probably can't even get past Marco, right?"
"Hey, you Marines should just accept Pops offer. It's rare for him to take a liking to someone—he'll definitely change his mind later."
"Gurararara! You brats actually ganging up on your own father!" Whitebeard roared with laughter, his booming voice shaking the seas, completely unfazed by his sons' teasing.
But before his laughter faded, an overwhelming pressure erupted in front of Marco, who had just flown towards Michael.
The next moment, Marco came hurtling back at even greater speed.
"Guh—!!!"
Still in his phoenix form, Marco vomited a mouthful of blood, spraying a crimson mist across the sky.
The sheer volume of blood clearly far exceeded Marco's regenerative limits.
"...Are my eyes playing tricks, or has Marco gotten weaker? Did he just get beaten until he puked blood?"
"Didn't you feel that pressure just now? If that hit us, we'd be in way worse shape!"
"Hahaha! Marco! You finally bit off more than you could chew! Serves you right, slacker!"
Some division commanders expressed concern, while others mocked him.
Yet in all their eyes,seriousness emerged.
If even Marco got wrecked, what chance did they have?
"Cough! Cough! Pops, this guy's... no joke!" Marco forced himself upright, his injuries gruesome yet already beginning to heal.
"He's definitely no ordinary rear admiral!"
"The Phoenix really is tough. Taking that hit and still not reaching critical condition." Michael regarded Marco with surprise.
The Tori Tori no Mi, Model: Phoenix—while its offensive power left much to be desired, its vitality and defensive capabilities were absolutely top-tier!
But even knowing this, Marco wasn't even seriously injured?
For context, when a younger Hawkeye took this same slash, he'd been instantly knocked flat, hovering between life and death.
Michael was astonished by Marco's resilience.
Meanwhile, the Whitebeard Pirates were equally shocked by Michael's strike.
Because Marco had just given them an evaluation...
"Ever since I ate the Phoenix Fruit... I've never felt pain like this!" Marco grimaced through clenched teeth.
"Especially those white flames... It feels like my spirit and soul are being scorched!"
"Aside from his sword, his Devil Fruit is likely one of unprecedented power we've never encountered before."
Instead of anger, Whitebeard's expression brightened further upon hearing Marco's words.
"Gurararara! What an unexpected surprise!" Raising his head, Whitebeard gazed at Michael still hovering mid-air.
"Your name's Michael, right? How about... becoming my son?"
"Seriously old man, you must be seriously starved for affection." Michael rolled his eyes and flicked Morning Star, causing flecks of Holy Flame to erupt in the air.
"Can't we just skip to the fighting?"
"What an ill tempered brat."
"Truth be told, I was quite troubled earlier. Though I've made recent improvements, I still didn't consider myself strong enough against you." Michael shrugged.
"But after what you just said, I've changed my mind!"
Michael grinned broadly as the Holy Light around him suddenly intensified.
Before everyone's eyes, a second pair of wings gradually emerged from his back—though only half the size of his first pair.
Michael shook his head.
Still not strong enough.
Only when the fruit's development reached its next stage would these wings fully mature to match the first pair's size.
Yet even these half-sized secondary wings unleashed an overwhelming aura of power that dwarfed his previous presence.
If Whitebeard had initially seen Michael merely as a formidable young man...
Now, even the man hailed as "World's Strongest" grew serious.
He understood now.
This... was a young monster.
"Even I have to admit—this level of monstrosity is downright terrifying!"
"Shut it, old man!" Michael's grin widened as Holy Light streamed from his mouth, swirling around him like luminous sprites.
"Now return my Marines to me!"
Morning Star gleamed coldly in his grip as he slashed toward Whitebeard.
"Stellar Brand·Scorched Earth!"
In an instant, the Holy Flame—now shifting from pure white to pale blue—transformed under Michael's command into countless sword replicas.
Each an exact duplicate of Morning Star!
These Holy Flame-forged blades followed Michael's motion, all converging on Whitebeard.
"Gurararara! What an intriguing boy!" Whitebeard watched Michael with delighted surprise.
"Initially i'm just curious, but now I'm genuinely thrilled!"
The razor-sharp Holy Flame approached and even Whitebeard felt considerable pressure from its terrifying heat and power—a sensation he hadn't experienced in years.
Whether from sheer excitement...
Or anticipation of facing a strong opponent...
Ever since people began calling him "World's Strongest Man," he'd rarely found reason to fight seriously.
Without hesitation, he grasped Murakumogiri beside him and cleaved through the air.
A torrent of Conqueror's Haki instantly enveloped the blade!
With just a single slash, the dense swarm of Holy Flame blades hurtling towards Whitebeard in the air vanished instantly.
Whitebeard himself took half a step back in response.
Michael's eyes widened in shock.
Conqueror's Haki Coating!
Whitebeard, in his absolute prime in every aspect, really was using Conqueror's Haki Coating as a basic attack!?
Feeling the terrifying pressure of his opponent's Conqueror's Haki, Michael was sent flying backward over a dozen meters before barely managing to steady himself midair.
However, he was barely injured—only feeling a surge of energy churning within him.
"You… you could at least rival Oden—no, Rayleigh! You absolutely stand on par with Rayleigh!"
Whitebeard stared at the cold-faced Michael hovering in the air, his excitement growing.
"Tch, shut up! you old monster."
"Hmph, you little monster lurking in the shadows." Whitebeard then pointed at the "Morning Star" in Michael's hand and added.
"That sword… gives me a familiar feeling."
"Your instincts aren't wrong. Before I reforged it, it was called Ace." Michael shrugged.
"Whitebeard, Roger told me plenty about you back then. And he also made one thing clear to me..."
"With someone like you, persuasion is pointless. The only way to communicate is through overwhelming strength!"
"So..."
Michael grinned as all the Holy Light and Holy Flame around him instantly receded.
The next moment, an endless radiance of Holy Light enveloped Fishman Island from the sky.
"Stairway… Ascension!"
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