The enormous black hand spanning the heavens brought a terror beyond death.
It was not pressure on the body, but a direct crushing of the soul and will.
Under the shadow of that palm, the Holy Land of Mary Geoise fell into absolute silence.
Then, within that frozen despair, a complex eight-pointed star magic circle flared into existence on the distant horizon, spinning as it cast down a frigid, merciless light.
"Insolent!"
A furious shout rolled across the sky like thunder, carrying unquestionable authority. In an instant, it shattered the fear choking everyone's hearts.
A streak of cold light flashed out from the magic circle, crossing a distance no ordinary mind could comprehend.
Where that light passed, the air congealed into frost crystals, and even the raging flames dimmed.
The black hand, woven from countless souls, was as fragile as a curtain before it.
Without a sound, it was cleaved cleanly in two, then shattered and dispersed into nothingness.
The slash did not weaken in the slightest. Wrapped in bone-deep chill, it continued on, aiming straight for Kael Grylls atop the wall.
At the critical moment, a figure shot upward.
Mihawk leapt high into the air, both hands gripping Yoru. From above, he brought down a massive emerald slash stretching a hundred meters!
Boom!
Emerald and icy-white collisions detonated in midair. The scattered energy became a gale that shoved the sea of fire below aside, revealing wide patches of scorched ground.
A figure landed atop a tower not far from the wall. Bone hooves clicked crisply against the stone tiles.
Tap. Tap.
The newcomer had a human upper body, but below the waist was a vicious skeletal warhorse. In his hand was a long blade that radiated ominous menace.
Shodai Kitetsu.
The Financial Warrior God, Venus, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro.
He stared across at Mihawk, his gaze heavy.
That earlier slash had been ruthless and pure. In swordsmanship alone, this man was absolutely not beneath him.
Mihawk slowly rested the black blade on his shoulder. In those hawk-like eyes, an unprecedented blaze of battle intent ignited.
He could feel it.
This inhuman existence before him was the kind of opponent that demanded everything he had.
Today might be the day he finally claimed the title of the World's Strongest Swordsman.
Right as the air turned razor-sharp, a lazy voice broke the silence.
"Yo, old geezer." Kael waved at Nusjuro as if nobody else existed. "Long time no see. I'm here to cash in on that promise I made years ago."
Nusjuro's attention shifted from Mihawk to Kael. His expression darkened until it looked like it could drip water.
A promise? What promise?
That arrogant declaration, "I'll come to Mary Geoise in person and find you"?
How dare he?
A surge of fury rose in Nusjuro's chest, the feeling of being toyed with.
Back then, after Roger's execution, they had compromised and turned a blind eye to Kael, thinking it was a leash on a wild beast.
Now it was clear.
They had raised a tiger, only to invite calamity.
And what made it worse was this: even now, they still had no clean solution for this man.
This was Mary Geoise.
If Kael wanted to, his bizarre Devil Fruit ability could flatten half the Holy Land in an instant and slaughter more than seventy percent of the Celestial Dragons.
The Five Elders did not care about the lives of those foolish "kin."
But the World Government's dignity could not be challenged.
If the news spread that pirates had invaded the home of "gods," that the "gods" themselves had been butchered like livestock…
Then the absolute rule and authority built over centuries would collapse overnight.
In simple terms, they could not afford to lose face.
Nusjuro tightened his grip on Shodai Kitetsu.
This Holy Land, symbol of supreme power, had become the very shackles binding their hands and feet.
…
Time rewound slightly.
Inside a resplendent Celestial Dragon palace, half-bitten exotic fruits lay scattered across a luxurious carpet, discarded after a single mouthful.
Stella sat with her back against an icy wall. The heavy slave collar around her neck rubbed raw against her skin.
In her hand, she clutched a sharp shard of broken porcelain.
Her final dignity.
Her final resistance.
Suddenly, she noticed her shadow move on its own.
It was no longer a still patch of darkness.
It seemed to come alive, twisting and writhing.
Click.
A soft sound.
The collar around her neck snapped apart and dropped to the floor.
Stella did not even have time to gasp.
The shadow surged up like a tide and swallowed her whole.
She sank soundlessly into the darkness beneath her feet, vanishing without a trace.
…
At the edge of Mary Geoise.
The Boa sisters had escaped the burning hell by sheer luck and stubbornness, hiding behind the shadow of a massive boulder as they panted for breath.
"Big sister, we…" Sandersonia and Marigold, faces bright with relief, turned to speak to the sister who had protected them the whole way.
They turned back.
There was nobody there.
Boa Hancock, who had just been guarding the rear, watching the surroundings with fierce vigilance, was gone.
…
In the chaotic tide of people, Gild Tesoro pushed forward like a mad beast, ramming against the flow.
The fire of hope in his eyes suddenly flared brighter.
He saw him.
The Celestial Dragon who had once, with a casual sentence, bought Stella right in front of him.
Now that "god" was sprawled on the ground in panic, his bubble helmet crooked, not a single guard in sight.
Tesoro's mind went blank. His body moved before thought.
He lunged forward.
Before the horrified stares around him, he seized the Celestial Dragon and dragged him violently into a narrow alley already being devoured by flames.
"Where is she?!" Tesoro slammed him into the wall, roaring with bloodshot eyes. "The girl you bought! Stella! Where is she!"
A Celestial Dragon had never suffered such treatment.
After a heartbeat of terror came arrogance and rage carved into bone.
"Filthy commoner! You dare touch me?!" he shrieked. "Guards! Where are the guards! Kill this disgusting bug!"
Tesoro answered with his fist.
Bang!
The bubble helmet shattered.
Scalding air rushed in. The Celestial Dragon reacted as if he had inhaled poison, clutching his throat and coughing violently.
Tesoro did not stop.
Another punch smashed into his face.
One.
Two.
Warm blood splattered across Tesoro's cheeks, and he felt nothing.
"I asked you, where is she!"
The Celestial Dragon was beaten senseless. The pain of a broken nose and a terror he had never known shattered him. He had no idea who Stella even was anymore.
He had bought countless slaves. Many he had not even had time to "play with."
His words turned into incoherent sobbing.
"Which toy… ah! I remember…" he wailed through blood. "That toy… I already broke her! I threw her away!"
Broke her.
Threw her away.
Tesoro's fist stopped in midair.
It was as if the world's sound died right then.
The roar of flames, the distant screams, all drifted away.
Only those cold words echoed in his mind, again and again.
He had believed that as long as he had money, he could buy her freedom.
He had believed that as long as he worked hard enough, he could reclaim his light.
So the treasure he had tried to protect with his life…
In someone else's eyes, she had been nothing more than a toy, something to break, something to toss aside.
Money could not bring her back.
Those golden eyes that had burned with hope went out completely, sinking into a dead abyss.
He swung his fist again.
Mechanically.
Again.
And again.
Beneath him, the "god" who had screamed "filthy commoner" grew quieter and quieter, until there was no sound at all.
He did not know how much time passed before Tesoro returned to himself.
He slowly loosened his grip and looked down at the corpse, battered beyond recognition.
His face held no expression.
Hatred for nobles and "gods."
A mad hunger for wealth and power.
In that moment, those feelings became poison seeds, taking root in the ash-gray soil of his heart.
Tesoro staggered to his feet and stumbled out of the alley, hollow-eyed.
He needed to escape.
And then, with all the wealth in this world, he would build an empire where no one would ever again be able to take anything from him.
An empire that belonged to him alone.
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