Chapter Fifty-One: Momentum!

The three moved at incredible speed, their flight accompanied by faint sonic booms—not because they had broken the sound barrier, but due to the torrents of air clashing and intertwining around them, creating a sound reminiscent of a sonic boom. Soon, they swept past several pirate ships under Whitebeard’s command, vanishing swiftly under the astonished and fearful gazes of the crewmen. The island was already in sight, floating on the calm sea like a radiant emerald, dazzling and beautiful.

As the island drew closer, the trio began to descend, their speed gradually dropping. The Moby Dick had come into view—a pirate ship of immense size, far larger than the Thousand Sunny sailed by the Straw Hat crew. Its hull, shaped like a blue whale, appeared cumbersome, but the cannons bristling along its sides testified to its formidable combat strength. The Moby Dick was docked at a large wharf, surrounded by several other pirate ships, likely the vessels of the division commanders. On shore stood a small town, visible from above; though not large, it could easily accommodate tens of thousands.

Three streaks of light flashed across the sky, descending gently onto the platform at the bow of the Moby Dick.

Marco turned back with a smile and walked toward the deck. The pirates on board had already noticed their arrival, eyeing Karmiel from a distance with curiosity, excitement, and a hint of disdain. Evidently, Whitebeard’s decision to have Marco personally greet these guests had stirred some resentment among the crew.

Karmiel’s expression hardened. At this moment, Whitebeard sat upon his throne, watching him with a faint smile. The division commanders regarded the newcomer curiously—Karmiel had recently made quite a name for himself. Though they’d heard bits and pieces from Whitebeard, they had never fought him and remained somewhat skeptical of his strength. Marco, leaning casually against the ship’s rail, also looked on with keen interest. In this New World, only the powerful were respected, only the strong could stand atop the world. Yet at the sight of Karmiel’s icy, piercing gaze, the commanders’ expressions changed dramatically, a chill running through them as if plunged into an ice cavern—the power in that glance alone…

Recalling how, in the future, when Red-Haired Shanks came aboard, he’d unleashed his Haki to make his presence known, Karmiel realized he should do the same, to awe those who still believed Whitebeard was the world's greatest pirate.

He smiled at Ice Phoenix beside him, who seemed to understand and stepped back slightly. Karmiel’s gaze grew cold as he swept it over the pirates. The division commanders, and even that future Blackbeard, Teach, suddenly felt a chill seize them, their bodies trembling involuntarily. Even Whitebeard was startled by Karmiel’s look—a gaze that treated all as ants, supremely arrogant. Whitebeard managed a wry smile, realizing his sons were in for a lesson today.

Suddenly, the clouds above seemed to tremble, and from where Karmiel stood at the bow, an overwhelming aura erupted, like a volcano’s fury. The dark clouds overhead scattered, the nearby sea began to tremble, and even the island quaked gently under Karmiel’s Conqueror’s Haki.

Whitebeard narrowed his eyes, releasing a trace of his own Conqueror’s Haki. Yet the oppressive intent directed at him was only slightly diminished, not even by a third. The crew, however, fared worse—one after another, they collapsed, foaming at the mouth in utter humiliation. Teach stared at the young man in shock, his face dark; after decades of striving, he still couldn’t withstand the aura of this youth. The blow was devastating. His head spun ever more, until finally he too collapsed, though his eyes still burned with a fervent longing for power as he gazed at the mountain-like figure before him.

The division commanders sensed disaster the moment Karmiel unleashed his Haki. Seeing their crewmates collapse and the world itself seem to shake under Karmiel’s pressure, they were utterly shaken—this aura alone surpassed even Whitebeard’s.

As Karmiel moved forward, each step struck the hearts of all present with oppressive force. Eventually, even the division commanders could no longer resist and fell one by one. The diamond-wielding one activated his abilities, but still ended up sprawled on the ground, to say nothing of the others—some fainted, some foamed at the mouth. Marco, though aware of Karmiel’s overwhelming power, was still stunned. He tried to counter with his own Haki; since gaining the Phoenix’s powers, Marco’s Haki had been transformed, now far stronger than ordinary Haki, only three-tenths weaker than Conqueror’s Haki. As the oppressive aura finally receded, Marco was drenched in cold sweat. Looking around, he saw that only he and his father remained conscious; the rest had all collapsed. His gaze toward Karmiel was now filled with awe and a deep wariness.

Whitebeard himself was not unscathed—at his age, enduring such pressure was no mean feat. Beads of cold sweat trickled down his face as he marveled—this young man’s strength already far surpassed his own at his peak.

Karmiel gave a wicked grin, took Ice Phoenix by the hand, and walked toward Whitebeard. Marco, leaning against the rail, took several deep breaths to dispel his lingering discomfort, shooting Karmiel a wry look as the pair approached. Such lack of propriety! A show of force would have sufficed—they really had to knock everyone down, leaving him to clean up the mess.

Whitebeard eyed the smiling Karmiel, a trace of anger in his face quickly suppressed as realization dawned on him. He sighed and said, “I am no match for you.”

Karmiel paused, and Marco’s expression also shifted. He still remembered what Karmiel had said more than a decade ago: “When I am strong enough, I will challenge you.” Most of the crew had long since forgotten those words, but Marco and a few division commanders still remembered the resolve in that youthful voice. Now he had come, and to Marco's dismay, Whitebeard conceded without a fight. What was this?

Karmiel felt a bit awkward; he had already forgotten his previous words, recalling only that he’d met Whitebeard in Loguetown and, thinking carefully, had indeed intended to challenge him back then. Apparently, his recent display had made Whitebeard think he was here for that challenge.

Seeing Whitebeard’s somewhat dejected look, Karmiel realized he may have overdone it.

With a gentle sigh, Karmiel slowly raised his right hand as if lifting a mountain. The mounting pressure made Marco and Whitebeard feel as though their bodies were weighed down—was he preparing to annihilate the Whitebeard Pirates?

Karmiel caught their reactions and smiled faintly. His raised right hand clenched, and suddenly heaven and earth trembled. The spiritual energy of the world began to gather around the Moby Dick at an incredible rate, nearly coalescing into something tangible.

Whitebeard and Marco sensed the currents of energy flowing gently into their bodies, and felt themselves growing stronger. For Whitebeard, the effect was especially pronounced, as though his aging body was being remade, returning him to his prime. His gaze toward Karmiel now brimmed with dread—such a feat was beyond ordinary men. He had heard of this spiritual energy: the life force exuded from trees, the ocean, and the earth itself. Absorbing it brought untold benefits to the body. This time, Karmiel’s action had subtly evolved both Whitebeard’s and Marco’s bodies, to their immense advantage.

Karmiel lowered his hand, and the spiritual energy dissipated. Whitebeard and Marco awoke from that sublime sensation, looking at Karmiel with gratitude. He shook his head, signaling them to treat this incident as if it hadn’t happened, and assuring them there would be no next time.

After a while, Karmiel gave a mischievous smile and said, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” On deck, the crew began to recover from their unconsciousness. The spiritual energy had not affected them much; Karmiel had focused it mainly on Whitebeard, not wanting to see him, in the future, riddled with IV tubes.

The division commanders were the first to wake, and their eyes toward Karmiel were filled with deep wariness. The feeling of utter helplessness, of their very lives in someone else’s hands, was not an experience they wished to repeat.

Whitebeard stood up and instructed Marco to prepare food and drink, then gestured for Karmiel to join him in the cabin.

Clearly, there was something important to discuss. Karmiel understood immediately, glanced at Ice Phoenix, who smiled like the blossoming of spring, and followed Whitebeard inside, hand in hand.

...

Yesterday, an elderly lady of the Lin family passed away. The funeral arrangements kept me very busy, so there was little time for writing. I hope everyone understands!