His fist tore through the molten lava, the force crashing heavily against Sakazuki's raised arms.
A surge of power exploded from Rosinante's punch, forcing Sakazuki to slide back more than a ter!
"Hmph, is that all?" Sakazuki sneered coldly.
Though surprised that Rosinante's earlier counterattack had weakened considerably, Sakazuki still mocked him with disdain.
"The real attack… is now! Release—Limit Breaker Smash!"
Rosinante vanished without a sound, reappearing in front of Sakazuki in a blink, and his fist crashed out again with terrifying force.
BOOM!
The punch slamd into Sakazuki's chest with an ear-splitting impact. In the very next instant, an unimaginably hot and explosive force erupted from within!
It felt like an unstoppable tidal wave of power burst from Rosinante's fist, hamring Sakazuki's chest and sending his body flying uncontrollably backward—crashing hard into the protective barrier behind him.
The wall, made of specialized reinforced materials, was dented in from the impact.
"Puh—Agh!" Sakazuki spat out a mouthful of blood, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Rosinante.
He couldn't comprehend it—how had Rosinante's power skyrocketed in such a short ti?
Could it really be just because he used his own magma to attack?
No… sothing had changed.
Of course sothing had changed.
Whether it was the Crushing Fist Smash or the Limit Breaker Smash, both were techniques Rosinante had developed himself—built on the foundation of traditional martial arts, yes, but entirely transford by his own insights.
To put it bluntly, his fighting style was a wild path, one born of intuition and honed through the sharp perception of Observation Haki. Countless adjustnts and iterations had led to the effects he was achieving now.
It was like using modern instrunts to analyze ancient martial arts forms—sure, you might record the movents, the angles, the force, but you'd never uncover the hidden essence of internal martial arts, like soft force, hidden energy, or energy redirection—let alone the will behind the fist.
But everything changed when Rosinante got his hands on the books from Ohara.
Among them were not just texts on history or knowledge—but tos on physical training, bodily control, and the very science of strength. With those, Rosinante had gained insights that let him refine his techniques far beyond before.
Even with limited ti, his basic refinents had elevated his attacks to an entirely new level.
"So strong!"
"Amazing, Captain!"
"With one punch, he made that Navy monster cough up blood!"
"That's what I'm talkin' about! So badass!"
"The Captain is invincible!" The mbers of the Second Division erupted in wild cheers.
"Charge! While Captain's dealing with that monster, let's storm the Marine HQ building!" one of the Second Division elites shouted.
"Kill! Let's crush these bastard Marines!"
"They almost sent to hell just now—no way I'm letting them off easy!"
The words sparked a fire in the squad. The Second Division warriors surged forward like a tide, tearing through the cloud path straight toward the heart of the Navy Headquarters!
"Stop them! Not one step closer to the Marine building!" several Vice Admirals appeared, leading waves of Marines into the fray.
These Vice Admirals were no pushovers—so were masters of close combat.
With Rokushiki's Rankyaku, they slashed the skies—Second Division fighters were cut down in droves by their blade-like kicks.
So used Shigan, fingers jabbing rapid-fire to form a rain of bullets, splattering blood from Second Division chests like bursts of crimson fireworks.
Others used Tekkai, their bodies so hardened that even Sky Island's Impact Dials couldn't pierce them. And with Soru, they flitted across the battlefield like ghosts, sending warriors flying with each lightning-fast strike.
And then there were those with Devil Fruit powers—each one bizarre, powerful, and overwhelming. The average Second Division fighter didn't stand a chance, falling one by one.
"Don't let them run wild! Second Division elites, stall them!" Beadle roared as he charged into the fray, crossing into the defensive walls of the base.
Elite mbers sprang out imdiately, throwing themselves at the Vice Admirals.
"Slash Dial!" One fighter rushed a Vice Admiral unleashing Rankyaku, absorbing the energy of the kick into the shell—then sent it roaring back in a deadly counterattack.
"Cloud Rope Bind!" Dozens of fighters mounted on Wavers zipped around a Vice Admiral, looping cloud ropes around him, trying to tie him down.
"Burning Cannon!"
"Flash Lance!"
"Shock Spear!"
Despite their efforts, it was incredibly difficult to restrain these Vice Admirals. Their sheer power made them nearly untouchable.
"Bring out those Pulse Rifles the Captain gave us! Snipe those Vice Admirals down!" Beadle shouted suddenly.
He rembered now—the rifles Rosinante handed them before the battle. He'd ntioned they were incredibly powerful. Rosinante had told them to use the weapons only if they ran into truly difficult enemies.
And what better ti than now?
"Yes, sir!"
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A group of marksn from the Second Division raised their Pulse Rifles and aid at the Vice Admirals.
Light flashed from the barrels, and in the blink of an eye, several Vice Admirals dropped like felled giants.
"W-What the hell?!"
One of the downed Vice Admirals struggled to rise again, blood streaming from his cracked forehead.
They had sensed the danger the mont the rifles fired and raised their Armant Haki to defend, but even that wasn't enough—their heads were still blasted open, blood pouring from fresh wounds.
"We can't let those snipers fire again!" the Vice Admirals shouted in alarm, bolting toward the source of the shots.
But Beadle was already in motion, leading his elites to intercept and block their path.
And the gunners with the Pulse Rifles, thrilled by the weapons' incredible power, quickly shifted positions and kept up their suppressive fire.
Even Vice Admirals couldn't ignore such firepower—each shot was a deadly threat.
And with Beadle and the Second Division elites desperately working to tie them down—not to kill them, just to limit their movent—the plan worked. They successfully restrained the Vice Admirals!
"That brat Rosinante… his strength has improved far more than expected," Garp muttered, frowning deeply.
Garp and the others weren't paying close attention to the skirmishes nearby—they knew the real threat was Rosinante. Defeat him, and the rest would crumble. Just scattered resistance.
"His ability is even trickier than we thought," Sengoku said. "He took Sakazuki's magma head-on without defending and used it to launch a counterattack. If we can't kill him in one strike or wear down his stamina over ti… it's going to be very hard to bring him down."
"What a damn troubleso ability," Garp muttered. "Looks like I'll have to step in."
"Wait," Sengoku stopped him. "Sakazuki's not going down that easily. Let's see what Rosinante still has up his sleeve."
Sengoku firmly believed Rosinante wouldn't launch a full-scale assault on Marineford without so trump card hidden in his hand.
"Rosinante!!"
Sakazuki's furious roar interrupted the conversation, his voice echoing like a volcano about to erupt.
And then—he charged again, magma boiling, fists blazing, hatred burning in his eyes.
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