Chapter 164: Frozen Sacrifice and The Despair!
"Beckman!!!"
The scream tore from Shanks's throat, raw and jagged, sounding less like the command of an Emperor of the Sea and more like the desperate, wounded cry of a cornered beast.
A surge of hot, violent blood rushed to his head, pounding against his temples with a rhythm that matched the frantic, terrified beating of his heart.
His chest felt constricted, crushing inwards as if an invisible, cruel hand were squeezing the very life out of his lungs.
Red.
Everything in Shanks's vision was tinted a horrifying shade of crimson. He stared intently at the solitary figure of Benn Beckman standing against the monstrous enemy, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot with a volatile mixture of rage, grief, and helplessness.
He knew. In that split second, amidst the chaos of the crumbling battlefield and the choking smoke, Shanks understood perfectly.
This was an opportunity. A fleeting, fragile lifeline that Beckman—his First Mate, his partner, his oldest friend—had bought with the currency of his own life!
"Don't just stand there, Captain!"
Beckman did not look back. He stood with his back to the crew, his gray hair whipping wildly in the turbulent winds generated by the enemy's spiritual pressure. He seemed completely oblivious to the pain radiating from his severed limbs or the crushing self-reproach burning in Shanks's eyes behind him.
He cracked a smile. It was an expression uglier than a cry, distorted by agony but anchored by an unshakeable, steely resolve. His voice, usually calm and analytical, was now hoarse, rasping like sandpaper over stone, yet it carried the weight of a final order.
"Promise me... you must take everyone out safely!"
The words hung in the air, heavy as lead. Having said them, Beckman gave Shanks no chance to argue, no chance to react, and certainly no chance to die alongside him.
"Haaa!"
With a roar that defied his mortal injuries, Beckman raised his weapon. The flintlock pistol in his hand, a companion through countless battles across the Grand Line, spat fire like a sudden squall. He didn't retreat. Instead, he rushed toward the pale, terrifying figure of Ulquiorra like an arrow released from a bow, without a shred of hesitation!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gunshots exploded in rapid succession, the sound deafening even over the roar of the ocean. Every bullet was coated in a thick, obsidian layer of high-level Armament Haki, carrying not just gunpowder, but Beckman's absolute conviction and his rage.
He used a nearly suicidal fighting style, abandoning all defense to close the distance. He fired point-blank, using the muzzle flashes to blind, using his broken body to obstruct. He was attempting to restrain a monster that defied logic, desperate to buy even a single, precious second for his comrades behind him!
Shanks's body stiffened where he stood, his boots rooted to the cracked earth. He looked at Beckman's silhouette—slight compared to the giants of this world, yet at this moment, appearing more sturdy and insurmountable than the Red Line itself.
He was watching his right hand, his brain, his brother, use his own flesh and blood to block the path of a god-like enemy. The sight made his heart twist in such agony he thought it might stop beating altogether.
I should be there. I should be the one fighting.
But he did not stop! He could not stop!
The opportunity Beckman had purchased with his life must not be wasted! To hesitate now would be to trample on Beckman's sacrifice!
"Go!"
Shanks gritted his teeth fiercely, so hard that a molar cracked. He turned his back on the fight—a motion that felt like tearing off his own limb—and reached out to pull up the nearest crewmate, Lucky Roux, whose round face was wet with tears.
His voice was hoarse, urgent, and laced with a terrifying command.
"Take a detour! Everyone, hurry up and get back to the ship!"
Move! Don't look back!
He had to keep these comrades alive! He had to honor the price that was being paid. He had to safely send everyone onto the Red Force, and then... then he would return!
I will send them off, and I will come back.
The thought was a desperate mantra in his mind.
I will definitely return! I won't let you die alone, Benn! We will leave this place together!
Behind them, the battle raged on, a one-sided symphony of violence.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The flintlock pistol in Beckman's hand became a rhythmic drumbeat of defiance. He fired with inhuman speed, reloading and shooting in a blur of motion. Every bullet was aimed with lethal precision, targeting the eyes, the throat, the hollow in the chest—blocking Ulquiorra's path forward with a wall of Haki-infused lead.
However, the reality was cruel.
These warheads, capable of smashing boulders and piercing the hulls of Marine battleships, were as fragile as sea foam before the opponent standing before him.
Ulquiorra Cifer did not even draw his sword.
The 4th Espada stood with one hand casually tucked into the pocket of his white hakama, his posture relaxed, almost bored. With his other hand, he simply waved.
Swish. Swish.
His pale hand moved with a speed that the human eye couldn't track, creating invisible trails in the air. He slapped the Haki-clad bullets aside as if they were annoying insects.
Clang! Ping!
The bullets, deflected by his Hierro, struck the surrounding rocks, shattering the terrain, but they could not touch the Arrancar. Ulquiorra's movements were elegant, efficient, and terrifyingly effortless. He wasn't fighting an Emperor's First Mate; he was taking a stroll and shooing away a pest.
"Exchanging your own life for a few seconds of escape time for your comrades?"
Ulquiorra's tone was flat as stagnant water. It was devoid of mockery, anger, or pity. He spoke as if he were merely stating an objective, scientific fact.
"I must say, while this action is meaningless in the grand scheme of things, you are certainly a man of courage."
He paused, his movement ceasing for a fraction of a second. The emptiness that saw through everything was reflected in his pale, emerald-green eyes with slit pupils.
"Unfortunately, you cannot delay me for very long. After you die, I will send your comrades... to join you."
Hearing this, Beckman felt no anger. He didn't have the energy for it, nor did he offer a rebuttal to the monster's logic.
He simply took another deep, ragged draw from the cigar burning faintly at the corner of his mouth. The ember glowed bright orange one last time before he slowly exhaled a thick white mist, mixing the smell of high-quality tobacco with the metallic tang of gunpowder and his own blood.
"No matter what," Beckman grinned.
The smile appeared somewhat savage on his blood-stained face, his teeth red, yet his expression was utterly serene.
"The more I stop you, even for a second, the greater chance my comrades have to survive. By any calculation... I profit."
Boom!
Before his words even finished echoing, his muzzle spat fire again! A point-blank shot aimed directly between Ulquiorra's eyes!
This time, however, the target in front of him vanished.
Zip.
There was no sound of movement, only the sudden displacement of air. It wasn't speed; it was a teleportation-like step. Sonido.
"Not good!"
Beckman's pupils contracted to pinpricks. He realized something was wrong instantly. His advanced Observation Haki had already captured a sense of extreme, fatal danger appearing right behind him!
He wanted to turn. He wanted to swing his rifle like a club. He wanted to dodge!
But his body refused to obey. The ice spikes from the previous skirmish that pierced his thigh, combined with the excessive blood loss from his earlier battles, had made his limbs sluggish and heavy like lead.
He couldn't be faster than the opponent's blade. He couldn't outrun death.
Pfft...!
It was a sickeningly wet sound. The dull noise of a sharp hand sinking into soft flesh and bone.
Ulquiorra's figure had suddenly appeared behind him, his expression unchanged. His hand, stiffened into a spear-like blade, had penetrated Beckman's back without the slightest resistance, shattering the spine and emerging from his chest.
One strike. Fatal.
Beckman's body stiffened abruptly. The rifle in his hand slipped from his numb fingers, clattering onto the rocky ground.
Clatter.
He did not look down at the pale, white hand piercing his chest. He didn't scream.
Using his last ounce of strength, fighting against the darkness encroaching on his vision, he struggled to lift his head. He looked toward the shoreline, toward the approaching ship in the distance.
He saw them.
He saw the Red Force, its dragon figurehead proud and defiant. He saw Shanks, stumbling as he pushed the last of the crew aboard. He saw Lucky Roux, Yasopp, and Bonk Punch scrambling onto the deck.
They made it.
A smile of genuine relief curved his lips, softening the hard lines of his face.
"Cough... cough..."
Blood poured from his mouth, dark and thick, staining his gray shirt. Yet he paid it no mind.
He bit down hard on the nearly extinguished cigar in his mouth, keeping it steady even as his life faded. He took one last, fierce drag, though his lungs could barely hold air.
A faint wisp of smoke slowly curled from his lips, rising into the blue sky.
My mission... is complete... Captain.
Beckman's eyes slowly closed. His tall, sturdy body, which had been the pillar of the Red Hair Pirates for decades, lost its tension. As if all strength had been drained from it by the Arrancar's touch, he collapsed weakly.
He slid off Ulquiorra's arm and fell onto the cold, unforgiving ground with a heavy thud.
Silence descended on the cliffside.
"Beckman...!!!"
On the shore, Shanks had just pushed the last comrade onto the ship's rail. He turned back, his hand reaching out, and witnessed the scene that shattered his spirit.
He watched helplessly as his most trusted partner, the man who always cleaned up his messes, the man who was the anchor to his storm, fell down right in front of him!
A string named "sanity" snapped completely in his mind with a terrifying crack!
"Vice-Captain!"
"Mr. Beckman!"
The people on the ship, having also witnessed this scene from the deck, let out heart-rending cries that echoed through the sky, mixing with the sound of the waves! Tears streamed down the faces of hardened pirates who had laughed in the face of death a thousand times.
Just as this atmosphere of grief reached its absolute peak, just as Shanks was about to jump back off the ship in a blind rage, two voices approached from the sky.
They were voices that were completely inappropriate for the tragedy that had just unfolded.
"You are truly useless, letting those insects escape from your grasp!" a female voice scolded, icy and arrogant.
"Hmph, it was clearly you who failed to stop that Red Hair earlier! If anyone is useless, it's you, you frozen cow!" came the retort, equally sharp.
Esdeath and Albedo had actually rushed over from the island's interior while arguing the whole way.
Esdeath, the General of the Empire, strode through the air on steps of ice. Albedo, the Guardian Overseer of Nazarick, flew with her black wings spread wide.
Behind them, Rem and Ram followed with helpless expressions, their maid outfits fluttering in the wind. They looked at each other, sighing, constantly trying to mediate the fight between the two alpha females.
"Lord Albedo, Lord Esdeath, now is not the time to bicker with your comrades!" Rem called out softly, her blue hair swaying.
"Hmph, who's bickering with her!"
Esdeath and Albedo shouted in perfect, indignant unison. Their voices overlapped seamlessly.
They turned their heads away from each other with a simultaneous huff, then glared back at each other, sparks practically flying between them.
Esdeath glanced briefly at Ulquiorra, who had finished off Beckman and was wiping his hand. She snorted coldly.
"At least someone is doing their job," she muttered.
She then cast her gaze toward the distant sea, where the Red Force was beginning to turn its sails, attempting to catch the wind and flee.
"Rest assured," Esdeath said, stepping forward. Her heels clicked on the rock, echoing loudly. A terrifyingly cold aura began to radiate from her body, causing the moisture in the air to crystallize instantly into snowflakes.
"You think you can escape from this King's presence? It's not that easy!"
A trace of cruel mockery flashed in her ice-blue eyes. She licked her lips, the thrill of the hunt igniting within her.
"Let me completely freeze their 'hope'!"
With that, she raised her hand high into the air. A sphere of condensing ice energy formed above her palm. She slammed her hand down violently, pressing it toward the sea surface where the Red Force was located!
"Watch me freeze it completely!"
Crack... crackle crackle crackle...!
The sound was sickening. It was the sound of nature being violated.
Accompanied by a teeth-grinding noise of rapid freezing, the temperature dropped to absolute lows. Centered around the Red Force, the sea surface for hundreds of meters—no, kilometers—was instantly sealed shut by deep blue Profound Ice!
The undulating waves were caught mid-motion, turned into jagged sculptures. Countless savage ice spikes, massive as skyscrapers, surged madly from beneath the sea like the jaws of a mythical beast. They rose up, surrounding the ship, forming a giant, translucent cage that trapped the entire vessel firmly in place!
The sea was gone. In its place was a frozen wasteland of death.
"This is bad, Captain!"
Inside the cabin, the Navigator, who was steering, looked at the helm. It was frozen solid. He tried to turn it, but the mechanism had fused with ice. He looked out the window and shouted in absolute despair, his voice cracking with fear.
"The ship... the ship is frozen! It won't start at all! The rudder is stuck! The ocean... the ocean is gone!"
"Bastard!"
Bonk Punch ran out to the deck. He looked back at the shore, where Beckman's body was gradually being covered by the falling snow and ice generated by Esdeath's power. Then he looked at the ship that was completely trapped, immobile in the ice.
His heart filled with grief and indignation. Beckman had died for them to escape, and now they were stuck?
"We can't let his death be in vain!"
Bonk Punch violently wiped the tears from his eyes with his massive forearm. He roared, his voice trembling with fury, and jumped directly off the ship's rail!
"I'll smash open this damned ice!"
"Count me in!"
Lucky Roux jumped down without a second thought, his usual smile gone, replaced by a grimace of determination. He landed heavily on the ice surface.
Thud! Thud!
Waving his fists infused with Haki, Bonk Punch began frantically attacking the Profound Ice that had frozen the ship's hull.
"Oaaaaaah!"
He struck the ice again and again, his knuckles bleeding, his tears freezing on his face, trying desperately to pave a path to freedom for the captain who was too broken to move!
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