The moment those words were spoken, it wasn’t just the Five Elders who froze—

Even Tachibana Kyūjō faltered for a brief second.

He muttered under his breath, almost like a grumble of frustration,

“Uncle Sengoku… You really went this far? If you’re making a move like that… that just piles even more pressure on me.”

Before Kyūjō could finish venting, the bald swordsman—Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro—shouted in disbelief.

“Impossible! There’s no way! Sengoku would never… He’s not that kind of man! How could he—?!”

In contrast, Saint Topman Warcury, the Warrior God of Justice, accepted the reality swiftly. Without hesitation, he turned to the CP0 agent still present in the room.

“Inform Commander-in-Chief Kong. If he cannot convince the Navy to back down, and they dare invade the Holy Land… interrupting Imu-sama…”

He paused for just a moment, then continued coldly:

“If they provoke Imu-sama’s wrath… then Kong should already understand what comes next.”

The CP0 agent froze under Warcury’s piercing gaze, not daring to question or even nod. He glanced at Kyūjō only once, bowed deeply to the Five Elders, and prepared to leave.

But Kyūjō tilted his head and smiled faintly.

What, am I invisible? You think I’ll just let you walk away?

Without wasting another second, he gave a small exhale, raised his black blade—Rairyūken—and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

No—he had simply moved so fast it seemed like teleportation.

A slash surged out toward the other swordsman—Nusjuro—like lightning, as Kyūjō appeared directly in the center of the Five Elders’ formation.

It wasn’t just a strike.

It was a swordsman’s salute—the highest form of respect:

A lightning-quick deathblow.

The blade sliced down with flawless precision—targeting the Baihui point at the top of Nusjuro’s skull.

(The Baihui is an acupuncture point at the crown of the head, believed to be where all energy lines converge. In martial arts, it’s considered a fatal spot.)

The sheer speed of the attack made Nusjuro’s pupils contract sharply.

His eyes locked onto the edge of Rairyūken, but his body… felt like it was filled with molten lead—unable to move.

The crushing pressure that accompanied Kyūjō’s strike seeped into Nusjuro’s skin like needles, threatening to pierce him from the inside out.

In that narrow space between life and death, time seemed to slow.

Refusing to die quietly, Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro reached deep into himself, shattering his human limits.

Antlers burst from his forehead, his body expanded and swelled with raw power, and strange green flames danced around him. Totem-like patterns began crawling across his skin.

Mythical Zoan: Uma Uma no Mi, Model: Bakotsu.

With the grace of a horn clinging to a cliff edge—dangerous yet precise—Nusjuro raised his blade to meet Kyūjō’s from below.

And for a brief moment… he smiled.

Today, I—Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro—shall teach the so-called “World’s Strongest Swordsman” what it truly means to wield a blade.

Then came the crash.

A crystalline chime echoed through the air.

Nusjuro’s smile cracked.

And then… so did his sword.

Shodai Kitetsu—one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades—shattered into pieces.

A razor-thin red line split down from the Baihui point across Nusjuro’s body… slicing through his core.

Kyūjō calmly turned toward the remaining Four Elders.

Behind him, Nusjuro’s body collapsed—cleaved clean in two.

One strike.

That’s all it took.

And it wasn’t just the man that fell.

Even Shodai Kitetsu—long hailed as one of the strongest blades ever forged—had been broken in half in a single swing.

The other Four Elders were stunned speechless.

Ever since the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades were created, none had ever been broken. To see one destroyed in a single slash…

Not even Imu-sama might be capable of that.

For the first time in centuries, doubt crept into their minds.

Doubt… about the one they once believed omnipotent.

Was this man—Tachibana Kyūjō—too strong?

Or had Rairyūken, now known worldwide as the Black Sword, reached a level of sharpness beyond reason?

They had no time to find the answer.

Kyūjō wasn’t going to waste a single second.

He raised Rairyūken once more and murmured a deadly incantation:

“Blade severs life, heart reaps soul.

A thousand foes, one stroke.

One swing—one truth.

Soulbreaker… Deathbringer!”

The moment he finished, a massive Flying Slash erupted from his blade.

It was over a dozen meters wide—dense, focused, and nearly solid.

It surged toward the remaining Four Gorosei.

The slash radiated black—a void that devoured the light around it.

It carried with it the weight of advanced Busoshoku Haki, fused with infused Kenbunshoku.

By the time they even sensed it—it was already in front of them.

And the way they responded? Well…

Let’s just say the old saying proved true:

“In disaster, everyone saves themselves first.”

None of them even tried to counter it.

Counter it? With what?

If someone could snap a Supreme Grade Blade in one blow—how were they supposed to fight that?

They had only one option:

Flee.

Let Imu-sama deal with this monster. That was the only play.

They all transformed into their respective Mythical Zoan forms:

Gyūki. Itsumade. Fengxi. Sandworm.

Four massive beasts tore through the walls and ceiling of the administrative hall.

The unfortunate CP0 agent never made it out. He was crushed under the debris.

None of the Four turned to check on the slash behind them.

They hoped it wasn’t wide enough to kill all of them at once.

With bodies that huge, maybe—just maybe—they could take one hit.

Maybe…

They split in different directions, trying to escape.

But the truth was harsh.

With Infinity and perfect predictive simulation, Kyūjō didn’t make careless attacks.

His slash wasn’t meant to hit one enemy.

It was meant to cut through everything.

Even grazing the edge of that attack meant disaster.

Physically, they might survive…

But mentally?

A brush with that slash would shred their soul.

Some would fall into endless trauma.

Others would lose consciousness.

Some… would simply cease.

And the slash was fast—ridiculously fast.

The slower ones—Sandworm and Fengxi—never stood a chance.

The blade sliced through them at the waist, dragging their life force out in its wake.

Even as they were bisected, their faces showed confusion—not pain.

They barely realized what happened.

As for the other two—Gyūki and Itsumade—they managed to avoid direct hits, but even a slight graze to the leg shattered their spirits.

Eyes glazed.

Breaths lost.

Bodies plummeting from the sky.

Kyūjō casually followed up, flicked his blade twice—

And the last two heads fell.

All five were dead.

The Five Elders—rulers of the world—now lay in pieces.

Kyūjō glanced at the trembling pile of rubble nearby, then turned and walked away, using Geppo to ascend.

Only after the dust cleared… did the CP0 agent emerge.

He stared at the five corpses before him.

Frozen.

The Gorosei… are all dead?

Is it too late… to switch sides?

— — —

Mary Geoise – Within Pangaea Castle

The chaos outside had thrown the entire Holy Land into turmoil.

But within the heart of the castle, everything was still.

Too still.

To Kyūjō, the silence felt like a bottomless pit—dark and suffocating.

Beyond the carefully manicured gardens and birdsong, there was only a hollow void.

He looked out across the palace grounds and shrugged.

No point holding back now.

He unleashed his Conqueror’s Haki without restraint.

If there was ever a time to fight seriously—this was it.

He swung his sword.

A Flying Slash, thousands of meters long and hundreds wide, tore through the clouds.

So massive it blotted out the sun.

This was over half his full power.

All three types of Haki—Haoshoku, Busoshoku, Kenbunshoku—were layered into the attack.

If it actually landed, not just the palace, but the Red Line itself might crack.

Twenty years of refinement.

Even four Yonko together couldn’t stop this.

— — —

A booming explosion echoed—

But the slash never touched the castle.

A figure emerged.

Cloaked in black, towering above the clouds.

He didn’t block the attack.

He welcomed it.

A pale, jade-like fist—flawless and without effort—rose to meet the slash.

The impact shattered the air.

And then…

The slash cracked.

It sounded like glass breaking.

But it wasn’t glass—it was energy.

Invisible shards of the shattered Flying Slash floated down like snow.

Kyūjō narrowed his eyes.

This power… is absurd.

Still, a swordsman never backs down.

The moment you admit you’re weaker—

You’ve already lost.

He calmed his breathing and activated Infinity—pushing its analysis to the limit.

But something was wrong.

Infinity felt… slow.

The cloaked figure above Pangaea Castle wasn’t just hiding with Observation-Killing.

This was something beyond that.

Kyūjō stared at the data progress bar in his mind and decided to stall for time.

“So, you’re Imu—the one who’s ruled from the shadows for over 800 years?”

To his surprise, Imu actually responded.

The voice—neither masculine nor feminine—was cold and flat.

“So you know of me?”

Before the echo faded, the cloaked figure was already before him.

Less than five meters away.

For two beings both over three meters tall—that was very close.

And both were enemies.

Kyūjō stared silently.

Two horns. One enormous, singular eye.

Even with all the bizarre things I’ve seen… this is new.

A Devil Fruit transformation? Or… is Imu not human at all?

He didn’t keep the question to himself.

“Imu, are you human?”

The one-eyed figure shook his head.

Then spoke with zero emotion:

“You haven’t answered my question, human.”

Kyūjō’s brow twitched.

Human?

So Imu wasn’t?

He thought for a second—then smirked and improvised.

“Yeah, I know you. The Five Elders just told me about you.”

Imu let out a faint smile.

It had been centuries—maybe more—since someone had dared lie to his face.

And strangely… he found it amusing.

“In over 800 years… you are the first human to lie to me.”

“Now. Tell me your name.”

— — —

ps: (Author’s note: Should I rename Kyūjō for the Naruto arc? Would it mess up the story?)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep