The natural system started off strong, but the navy finally reached its peak!

Shanks held on for a while, but his consciousness began to fade, and in the last moments his eyes closed, a scene of apocalypse was reflected.

The entire sea area was forcibly pressed into a depression with a diameter of one kilometer, and the exposed seabed was covered with spider web-like cracks.

......

"Crack!" A piercing metallic groan echoed across the battlefield.

Gern's arms trembled violently, and for the first time, the blade of the Black Blade Eight Desolations showed a noticeable bend.

He watched helplessly as his purplish-black aura was gradually swallowed up by the red torrent, those high-frequency particles powerful enough to shatter everything.

It melted away like ice and snow under the sun in the face of Roger's slash.

This is...

Was it the strength of Roger, the "Pirate King," at the pinnacle of this era?

It's an overwhelming level of power, a force that transcends generations!

"Bang!" Ace slammed down without any fancy moves, and Gern's knee slammed heavily into the reef.

Fresh blood gushed from the ruptured tiger's mouth, forming a thin stream on the hilt of the knife.

His vulnerabilities, which he was so proud of, couldn't even touch the hem of Roger's clothes at this moment.

"Not bad eye." Roger suddenly grinned and flicked his wrist.

A seemingly casual movement caused the heavens and earth to sink!

"Unstoppable! This is a general facing a king..." Gern's pupils constricted.

What he saw was not the glint of swords, but the crushing weight of an entire era!

"Boom!" The Black Blade Eight Desolations flew out of his hand, spinning and embedding itself in the rock wall a hundred meters away.

Gern's body flew backward like a kite with a broken string, crashing into three floating reefs before finally coming to a stop.

He tried to sit up, but found himself completely unable to move and just lay there on the ground, blood blurring his vision. Guern saw Roger's figure riding the waves towards him.

With a single blow, the reef island built by Gern was completely shattered, and seawater began to slowly seep out.

Meanwhile, the man didn't even catch his breath, and Ace casually draped himself over his shoulder, as if the earth-shattering attack just now was nothing more than a casual gesture.

“Gern Reginald Sigma.” Roger stopped five steps away, the sunlight gilding his silhouette.

"It's such a pity, if only we had been born in the same era..."

The sea breeze blew the stray hairs from his forehead, revealing eyes that seemed to see through history.

"Perhaps it could change the course of the world!"

Gern's teeth were deeply embedded in his lower lip.

The bitter taste of defeat spread through his mouth, but what terrified him even more was the gap in skill.

It's not about the strength of the Devil Fruit's power, nor the level of Haki cultivation, but something more fundamental.

The powerlessness of a general facing a king! It's like a stream facing a vast ocean, or a fledgling eagle gazing at the sky.

Previously, he could still manage to fight Rayleigh, a Yonko-level figure, but he was completely overwhelmed by Roger.

"Is this... the height of those who stand at the top?"

As Guern's trembling left hand touched half a rock, he suddenly chuckled softly.

“Hey, Roger.” Gern loosened his tie with his bloodied teeth and stared at the sky.

Dark purple lightning flashed again, this time mixed with scarlet blood energy.

Guern stood up unsteadily, the shockwaves beneath his feet parting the seawater.

"We will have another battle in the future. I will personally lead you to the execution platform and end your era!"

Roger's eyebrows shot up, then he burst into a deafening laugh: "Rayleigh! Did you hear me?"

Rayleigh approached, clutching his ribs, his gaze behind his glasses complex and unreadable: "Maybe it's true?"

The waves gently caressed the shattered battlefield, and the afterimage of the Oro Jackson was reflected in Gern's increasingly blurred vision.

In the last moments before darkness fell, he heard Roger's distant voice.

“You brat of the new era… If you can, I’ll wait for you to take me to the execution platform.”

Chapter 131 "Defeat"

One month later, Sabaody Archipelago, Naval Base G-33.

The setting sun cast its last rays across the harbor, casting long shadows of the two warships.

One was Gern's black warship, and the other was Garp's iconic dog-headed warship.

The sea breeze carried the scent of foam trees, but it couldn't dispel the somber atmosphere within the base.

The wards of the field hospital, a unique feature of the Sabaody Archipelago base, reeked of disinfectant.

Garp stood with his back to the hospital bed, his cloak of justice swaying slightly as he stood by the window.

Her once jet-black short hair now has noticeable silver-white streaks at the bottom, making her look as if she has aged ten years in just one month.

Outside the window, the mangroves of Chambord cast dappled shadows in the twilight, and bubbles slowly rose into the air before bursting.

On the hospital bed, Gern slowly sat up, his movements slow and painful, each inch of movement sending a tearing pain through his muscles.

His body was wrapped in bandages, and in some places there were faint traces of blood.

After turning over, Gern lay there with his head down, elbows on his knees, and stray hairs falling down, obscuring his eyes.

The silence lasted for a long time.

"How is it?" Gern finally spoke, his voice hoarse beyond belief.

Garp didn't turn around, but stared out the window and snorted coldly, "Roger has already re-entered the New World."

His fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. "When I got there, I couldn't even see the stern of that bastard's boat!"

Karp's gloomy face was reflected in the windowpane.

Gern raised his head, his pale face expressionless: "Vice Admiral Garp, I'm sorry, I think I've lost..."

"Bang!" A heavy punch slammed into Gern's face, knocking him back to his hospital bed!

In an instant, the hospital bed and the cabinet were smashed together.

"You bastard!!"

"Do you know you're going to die?!" Garp roared, and the sheer force of his voice made the glass of the hospital room vibrate.

"Do you know what our expressions were when Zephyr and I received the news that you had fought Roger?"

Do you know what Zephyr's expression was like when he pulled you out of the sea?!

Garp shouted repeatedly, his eyes burning with anger and lingering fear, "If Roger hadn't held back, you'd be fish food by now!"

Gern lay in the hospital bed, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

He didn't wipe it; he just stared at the ceiling.

Seeing that Gren didn't answer, Karp stepped forward, grabbed him by the collar, and lifted him up.

"You think you're invincible just because you defeated Kozuki Oden?" Garp's voice was low, but it was more terrifying than a roar.

"Let me tell you, even Oden, that samurai, couldn't withstand a single blow from Roger!"

Outside the ward, a passing nurse was so startled that she knocked over her tray.

"Where's Teacher Zephyr? And what about Lipo?" Gern's pupils contracted slightly.

“Zeffa’s gone back, as for your furry lieutenant…” Karp released his grip, and Gern slumped back to the ground.

“We didn’t tell her about you; she’s still at the main training camp.”

"So many people care about you, but you..."

Karp turned and walked to the window, his back as heavy as a mountain: "Internal organs displaced, more than 40% of the muscle fibers in his body torn, and a permanent scar on his chest."

He paused, then added, "And all of this, Roger accomplished with just one strike."

Dusk deepened.

Gern slowly sat up, and this time Karp did not stop him.

"Is the difference really that big?" Gern asked softly, looking at his hands wrapped in bandages.

Karp did not answer.

Outside the window, the last ray of sunlight disappeared below the horizon.

The ward was dimly lit, with only the regular "beeping" of the medical equipment.

“During the rest of your recovery period,” Garp suddenly said, turning around with a sharp, piercing gaze.

“I hope you can think this through carefully and truly understand what ‘King-level’ means before you leave Sabaody.”

Gern looked up and met Karp's gaze.

Garp's eyes held anger and disappointment, but deeper still... a barely perceptible hint of expectation.

“Zeffa said he hoped you would succeed him after he became a general, but now it seems to me… you are far less mature than Kuzan and the other two.” Garp finished speaking and strode towards the door.

Just before closing the door, he stopped in his tracks: "Oh, right, your little golden brat..."

"What happened to Tesoro?" Gern asked immediately.

"He was taken back to Marineford with Zephyr," Garp said calmly, his brow furrowing slightly.

"He's quite good; he has a real talent for developing his fruit, you..."

Garp didn't go into details after that, and then left completely.

He wasn't completely stupid; he could tell that after being promoted to general, Gern had already begun cultivating his own loyal followers.

.........

After Karp left, the ward fell into a brief silence.

Gern leaned against the wall, slowly exhaling a breath of stale air. The pain in his chest made him frown slightly.

Just then, a lazy footstep came from the doorway.

"It seems a patient won't have a bed to sleep in today."

Gern looked up and saw Kuzan leaning against the doorframe, his hands in his pockets.

He wore his signature lazy smile, but his eyes were more serious than usual.

"Kuzan." Gern forced a smile, clutching his chest as he struggled to his feet. "When did you get here?"

“From the time Lieutenant General Garp started cursing you.” Kuzan shrugged, walked into the room, grabbed a rickety chair, and sat down opposite Gern.

"However, I didn't want to get scolded by him too. So I waited until he left before coming in."

Gern snorted softly and didn't reply.

Kuzan's gaze swept over Gern, finally settling on the blood-soaked bandages, and he frowned slightly: "Honestly, you were too impulsive this time."

"Even you're lecturing me?" Gern glanced at him.

“It wasn’t just me,” Kuzan sighed. “After Sakazuki received news of your attack on the Roger Pirates…”

It was rare for him to lose his temper at G-2 base; he even smashed half a table.

Gern paused for a moment, then chuckled, "That stubborn guy actually cares about me?"

"Don't misunderstand, it's just that even he, who's known for his extremes, thinks you went too far this time." Kuzan shrugged.

"After all, the Roger Pirates are not someone you can mess with."

Gern was silent for a moment, then looked down at his palm, the wound under the bandage throbbing slightly.

"Is the gap... really that big?" he asked in a low voice, asking himself again.

Kuzan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took an apple out of his pocket and tossed it to Gern: "Eat this, it'll give you some energy."

Guern took the apple but didn't move it; he just held it in his hand.

“The gap does exist,” Kuzan finally spoke, his tone unusually serious, “but it’s not insurmountable.”