“Is this some kind of joke?”

Prometheus—perhaps no longer in his right mind—had the nerve to say something like that.

Did he forget who he was talking to?

Big Mom wasn’t stupid. If she really tossed away Zeus, the thundercloud that was keeping her airborne, who did he think would support her in midair? Himself?

How laughable.

But the Prometheus of now wasn’t thinking for himself anymore. Controlled directly by Big Mom’s soul, the sun-shaped homie had no choice but to obey her will.

And so, with no time to argue, Prometheus hurled himself toward a massive incoming ice bird radiating death from its wings.

A collision of extremes—fire and frost.

The moment their bodies clashed, a burst of blinding light exploded across the sky.

But strangely… there was no massive boom.

No fiery shockwave.

Instead, the two opposing forces simply canceled each other out—vaporized into nothingness, leaving only silence behind.

From above, Big Mom roared in rage as she rode atop Zeus.

Her eyes burned with fury as she looked down at her so-called ally.

“You damn brat! Kaido—snap out of it and fight!!”

As her voice thundered through the air, she raised her colossal sword—Napoleon—which crackled with red lightning infused with Conqueror’s Haki.

“Elbaf no Yari: Ikoku!!!”

(Spear of Elbaf: Nation’s Power!)

A monstrous wave of Haki exploded from her blade and barreled straight toward Garp and Tachibana Kyūjō’s backs.

At that exact moment—despite his battered state—Kaido reacted.

As if hearing her battle cry, he raised his Supreme Grade kanabo, Conqueror’s Haki crackling across its surface.

“Galaxy Impact!!”

Garp noticed the incoming double strike.

He didn’t run.

He didn’t dodge.

Instead, the Hero of the Marines clenched his right fist, coating it in a swirling storm of Armament Haki and Conqueror’s Haki combined.

A punch honed over a lifetime collided with Kaido’s monstrous club.

Thooom!

The entire sky shuddered from the impact.

Kaido felt a crushing force surge up through his weapon. The pain coursed through his arms, through his chest, threatening to tear him apart. His mouth and nose burst open—another spray of blood.

He was reaching his limit.

But Kyūjō had no intention of letting Big Mom’s attack land cleanly.

Rather than press the assault on Kaido, he pivoted midair and raced toward Big Mom’s wave of energy, intercepting it with his body.

Truth be told, if he were to take it head-on using only his current physical body, he probably wouldn’t suffer serious damage. But Garp…

Garp wasn’t what he used to be.

In his prime, Garp’s Armament Haki was fearsome—perhaps the strongest in the world.

But Haki wasn’t just about willpower. It also depended on the state of the body. And Garp… was old.

The fact that he could even fight at this level now was a miracle in itself.

No human could stay at the top forever—unless, of course, they were no longer truly human.

Kyūjō’s brow furrowed.

He felt it again. That elusive presence hiding in the dark.

The Knights of God—the World Nobles’ pet monsters—still hadn’t shown themselves. But they were watching.

Waiting.

He exhaled slowly.

“Maybe it’s time I start getting serious.”

He glanced toward the horizon.

“Besides… Whitebeard and Shanks will be arriving soon.”

— — —

About a hundred kilometers from the battlefield—

Two emperors of the sea, Whitebeard and Red-Haired Shanks, were soaring through the skies at full speed, accompanied by their trusted officers: Beckman, Marco, and Katakuri.

But the way they traveled… was nothing short of bizarre.

The giant Whitebeard was being carried through the sky by Marco the Phoenix, who was in full Zoan form. In one hand, Whitebeard casually held a massive jug of sake, chugging it like water.

His legendary Murakumogiri, a Supreme Grade bisento, was strapped to his back.

Shanks and Beckman flew using Geppo, the Navy’s Moonwalk technique, to keep pace with Marco.

Katakuri, who couldn’t fly at all, was being carried like luggage—in the claws of King from the Beasts Pirates, flying in his Pteranodon form.

— — —

“Glug glug glug…”

Whitebeard took another long drink of sake, then turned to Katakuri—whose face had gone pale from motion sickness.

“Gurararara!”

“Oi, Katakuri, right? Big Mom’s second son? Want a drink?”

He shook the sake jug toward the mochi man, grinning ear to ear.

Katakuri gripped his trident and politely declined.

“Drinking would dull my focus during battle.”

Whitebeard chuckled in approval.

“No need to worry too much. Linlin and Kaido aren’t that easy to kill. Even the World Government can’t get rid of them that easily.”

“And we’re almost there, aren’t we?”

Katakuri nodded silently. But then—

“Oh right… Katakuri,” Whitebeard said, tilting his head.

“Wanna be my son?”

— — —

Shanks: “…”

Beckman: “…”

King: “…”

Marco: “!?!!?”

WHY does he keep trying to adopt people?!

At least ask Big Mom first—that’s her actual son!!

Katakuri: “U-uh… that’s a bit sudden…”

— — —

Back in the skies above Whole Cake Island—

Tachibana Kyūjō’s thoughts raced at lightspeed.

He figured it was time to unleash something a bit more serious.

Because if things kept escalating, and he had to face four Yonko plus the Knights of God, he’d need to bring out everything.

He took a deep breath.

His sword arm darkened—not the usual obsidian hue of Armament Haki, but a deeper black, like the absence of light itself.

No roar.

No technique name.

No flare of Conqueror’s Haki.

Just a simple swing of his blade.

A slash of black energy, dozens of meters long, tore through the air—

CRACK!!

Like thunder splitting the heavens.

The massive Conqueror’s Haki wave launched by Big Mom crumpled like soaked paper under Kyūjō’s blade.

The slash didn’t stop there. It crashed straight into Big Mom’s stomach—

“Ghhak!”

For the first time in decades, a deep, gaping wound split open across her abdomen.

She froze.

Not even screaming. Just stunned.

Silence swept across the battlefield.

— — —

Kaido watched in disbelief.

“Impossible…”

He knew better than anyone just how unbreakable Big Mom’s body was.

In all the years they’d known each other, he’d never seen her bleed. Not once.

She was called the Iron Balloon for a reason.

Not even Kaido himself—”the Strongest Creature in the World”—had skin that tough.

But now…

The unthinkable had happened.

Even the Knights of God, still lurking in the shadows, stared in shock.

They knew the Yonko inside and out. Their intelligence network was flawless.

And Kaido…

Kaido was not natural.

He was one of their experiments.

An artificial monster, designed with resistance to flame, frost, poison—even suffocation. Drowning in seawater wouldn’t kill him. He violated every law of Devil Fruit logic.

And only the Celestial Dragons, rulers of the world for 800 years, had the technology to make something like him.

— — —

In the shadows, someone whispered:

“Saint Figarland Garling… do you think this Vice Admiral Seiryu has reached the level of a ‘King’?”

The speaker was a short man—average-looking, barely 170 cm tall. But appearances deceived.

He was Saint Jaygarcia Fasidia, a blood relative of Jaygarcia Saturn of the Gorosei.

Unlike the spoiled scum among the Celestial Dragons, some were truly dangerous.

From birth, every Tenryūbito was tested. The talented were given Devil Fruits perfectly matched to their bodies.

These were the elite—those who truly ruled the world from the shadows.

As for Imu-sama, the being on the Void Throne… they remained hidden, only stepping in when destiny itself shifted.

The real day-to-day control? That was the job of the Knights of God.

And Fasidia was second-in-command among them.

His Devil Fruit?

The Elimination-Elimination Fruit, a Paramecia type.

Not listed in any official record—too dangerous to publicize.

The fruit’s power scaled with imagination and willpower. In the hands of someone like Kyūjō, who possessed limitless analysis and unbreakable will, the fruit might even erase the entire world.

Imu-sama? Sorry, that’s too beefy for my taste.

— — —

Because of that power, Fasidia could erase their presence from all perception. Not even Kenbunshoku Haki could detect them—unless you were Kyūjō.

Garling, rubbing his red beard, finally replied.

“That slash… it was at the level of a ‘King’.”

“Reminds me of Garp in his youth. The way he broke through the limits of Armament Haki.”

“But Busoshoku has a ceiling. Once the body weakens—like Garp now—it falls fast.”

“So unless this Seiryu breaks the limits of Kenbunshoku and Haoshoku as well… he’s not a real threat to us.”

Fasidia blinked.

“Wait, what does that even mean? What is Kenbunshoku and Haoshoku beyond their limits?”

Garling just smiled, and said nothing.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep