Another pirate streamer, hiding behind half a broken mast, pushed his phone's telephoto lens to its limit. The lens trembled slightly from excitement and fear, yet it remained stubbornly locked onto Akainu's every minute expression and movement.
"The Gorosei are threatening the Marine! Did you hear that?! Family, this is a bombshell! The World Government is using Marine family members as leverage! Record it! Record it all!" Some even bolder individuals turned on audio enhancement mode, risking discovery by Observation Haki to capture those cold, threatening words in the air.
The dazzling special effects of gift donations flashed one after another on the edge of the smoke-filled battlefield, reflecting the world-destroying energy explosions in the distance, creating an absurd yet incredibly real picture. These pirate streamers seemed to treat this battle of gods and demons as the greatest, and perhaps the last, traffic Carnival of their lives.
It wasn't that they weren't afraid of death.
Quite the opposite; it was the extreme fear combined with the realization of this battle's subversive significance that birthed a twisted excitement. They might die tomorrow, but if they could leave behind the clearest and most shocking first-hand footage of this event destined to be recorded in history, their names would live forever in the ocean of TikTok as data, becoming the "Prometheans" through whom future generations would glimpse the truth of this era.
This was a live stream conducted with lives, traffic exchanged for blood.
It was the most direct, grassroots, and undeniable—
Silent provocation and record against the authority of "God."
The live stream's bullet chat had long been submerged in various extreme emotions:
[Streamer is awesome!]
[Get closer! I'll gift you ten Carnivals! I want to see the Haki patterns on Red Hair's sword!]
[Will the Marine really revolt? The World Government is too dark!]
[Where is the screen recording team? Back it up quickly! These streams could be cut off at the source by the World Government at any time!]
[Crazy! Everyone's crazy! But... please continue! History needs eyes!]
These figures, as humble as dust, wandering on the edge of the battlefield, and the small screens in their hands connecting the whole world, had also become weapons in a sense—weapons capable of piercing through time and space to spread truth and the will to resist.
While the confrontation and maneuvering at the top level proceeded quietly through obscure techniques, subtle openings, and tacit "mistakes," the Marine soldiers and Officers in the middle and lower ranks were experiencing the true torment of blood and fire.
The cruel orders of the Gorosei were like a sword of Damocles hanging over their heads, and the powerful pirate enemies before them were by no means easy to deal with. After the initial shock and fear, many low-ranking Marines were instead pushed to their limits, roaring as they fought desperately against pirates trying to break the lines or those also wandering on the edges. Blades turned red, cannons roared, and people fell every second.
However, those battle-hardened Vice Admirals and Rear Admirals, who could grasp the rhythm of the battle to some extent, sensed a different atmosphere from the highest-level combat.
Fleet Admiral Akainu's brief but meaningful pause after being repelled, Admiral Kizaru's consistently "just right" combat range, Admiral Aokiji's "drifting" cold air that always "delayed" the enemy at critical moments rather than going for the kill... These subtle signals were no less than clear secret codes to veteran Officers familiar with their superiors' styles.
Soon after, more explicit instructions were quietly passed among senior Officers through encrypted communication channels or hidden gestures. The content might vary, but the core message was strikingly consistent:
[Avoid head-on clashes with the enemy's main force.]
[Preserve effective strength, reduce pointless sacrifices.]
[The situation has changed; prioritize self-preservation, wait for further instructions or... a turning point.]
"Shrink the formation! Alternate cover!"
"Don't advance rashly! Stabilize the defense line!"
"Leave that side to the Admirals! We're retreating in echelons!"
The orders were executed quickly and covertly. The Marine units that originally intended to cooperate with the Gorosei to purge the battlefield saw their offensive visibly "soften." They were no longer seeking annihilation but focused on defense and disengagement, shifting the primary combat pressure away.
Vice Admirals swung their famous blades or used Rokushiki mostly to repel approaching threats rather than pursue. Officers commanded their soldiers, fighting while moving toward relatively safe areas on the outskirts of the battlefield, skillfully using the terrain and the aftershocks of the battle as cover.
The effect of this large-scale, organized tactical contraction was significant. Soon, the originally stalled and chaotic melee area began to become "clear."
The center of the battlefield completely became the "Domain of Gods" where the peak combat powers collided—
Red-Haired Shanks fought one against two, his sword light and Haoshoku clashing against the violent power of the two Mythical Zoan Type Gorosei.
Beckman fought to the death without retreating, intercepting Saint Mars who was lunging toward Uta.
The battle between Kaido and Saint V. Warcury shook heaven and earth.
Zephyr fought fiercely on the edge, effectively forming an invisible isolation zone.
Meanwhile, the large number of Marine elites and pirate groups that originally filled the area retreated like a tide, either facing each other warily on the outer perimeter or simply disengaging, completely leaving the central stage to those few figures who would decide the fate of the world.
The Marine was using this collective, silent "concession" to demonstrate their final, albeit helpless, stance in this conflict between "Gods" and "Emperors of the Sea"—
No longer acting as the World Government's ruthless butcher's knife, nor openly defecting to become an ally of the pirates.
Simply... refusing to be the first sacrificed cannon fodder in this power game... Yamato held Uta, pushing her speed to the limit. Cold frost continuously condensed and exploded under her feet, providing powerful reaction force like an icebreaker gliding on land. Her goal was clear—get away from the suffocating divine battlefield behind them and find even a sliver of breathing room.
Uta clung tightly to Yamato's neck, burying her face against her sturdy shoulder armor. The sounds of explosions, roars, and the humming of clashing laws behind them were like a nightmare chasing them, getting closer yet seemingly thrown slightly further away by the distance Yamato was desperately pulling.
Just as they were about to rush out of a rock beach leveled by shockwaves, the view ahead suddenly opened up, revealing the vast, boundless, and surging sea—
An extremely strange, even somewhat absurd image forced its way into their sight.
In the distance on the sea, a giant Sea King, as massive as a mountain and hideous in appearance, was slowly swimming toward this war-torn island in a nearly leisurely and comfortable manner that completely contradicted its terrifying exterior.
What left them even more dumbfounded was that this Sea King would occasionally lazily lift its massive head and open its giant mouth, capable of swallowing a warship. Beside its mouth, there actually floated a wine bowl the size of a small pond, made of some transparent substance!
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It might not seem tempting right nobut who knows what the future holds?
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