Sengoku's near–line-drawing response was like the final straw, plunging the atmosphere in the Hall of Power straight into subzero depths.
Cradling the First-Generation Kitetsu, Ethanbaron V. Nasjuro Saint slowly rose to his feet. The face that was usually as calm as an ancient well was now coated in a layer of chilling frost, terrifying in its severity.
He didn't look at the other three elders at all.
Those eyes—sharp as a hawk's—locked firmly onto Sengoku. His voice was so cold it seemed capable of freezing the air itself, every word carrying an unquestionable weight.
"Enough."
"Sengoku. Your previous demands… we agree to them."
"Make Gern stop."
"This matter ends here."
The moment those words fell, Marcus Mars Saint, Shepherd Ju Peter Saint, and Topman Warcury Saint all paused slightly in surprise. Their lips moved, as if they wanted to object—but in the end, not one of them spoke.
With a powerful enemy still pressing from the north, flames of chaos rising in the south, and Saturn Saint's condition unknown, this was the only possible way to minimize losses.
Silence, in this moment, meant consent.
And when Sengoku heard those words of concession, it felt as if he had downed a cup of ice-cold water in the height of summer—refreshing him from head to toe.
Only now did he truly understand why, back then on the plaza of Marineford, Fleet Admiral Kong had worn that expression when he heard the word "compromise."
It really did feel that good.
At the same time, Nasjuro Saint didn't pause for even a second. His commands followed immediately, crisp and decisive.
"Sengoku. You're coming with me—now. We head north to meet Gern Reginald Sigmar in person!"
Then he turned sharply to Marcus Mars Saint.
"Issue the order immediately. Once the CP0 units holding back Gern disengage safely, they are to withdraw entirely. Abandon the northern line and return at full speed to reinforce the southern side of the Land of the Gods!"
"No matter the cost, the slave uprising must be completely crushed! All rebellious slaves are to be executed without exception!"
With the orders given, Nasjuro Saint wasted no more time. He didn't even check whether Sengoku was following.
Hand gripping the hilt of the First-Generation Kitetsu, he strode forward with heavy yet rapid steps, heading straight out of the Hall of Power.
He chose to personally face the Navy's strongest spear—the man capable of suppressing Saturn Saint—while entrusting the task of quelling the internal chaos to CP0.
At present, this was the only plan capable of addressing both crises at once.
Sengoku's gaze flickered briefly as he watched Nasjuro Saint's resolute back.
He then glanced at the other three Five Elders, whose faces looked unbearably grim. The corner of his mouth lifted by the slightest, nearly imperceptible arc—before quickly settling back into neutrality.
He adjusted the seagull hat atop his head, said not a single word, and stepped forward to follow Nasjuro Saint.
The bargaining chips had already been secured.
Now, he needed to make sure that on Gern's side… things wouldn't escalate to the point of tearing an unfixable hole in the heavens.
The doors of the Hall of Power closed behind the two of them, leaving only the remaining three Five Elders behind.
This was the second time the World Government had been forced to make a reluctant compromise—because of the Navy!!
...
Northern Front
Gern hovered in midair, gazing down coldly at the Ushi-Oni below.
Trapped within the "Heavenquake · Stellar Ring," the massive body struggled desperately, its form continuously ground down and regenerated—yet the overall state was unmistakably weakening.
A frigid curve formed at the corner of Gern's mouth as he prepared to layer another stellar ring atop the first, intending to completely suppress Saturn Saint's stubborn shell right here—
But at that very instant!
An extremely sharp, icy killing intent—so terrifying it felt capable of severing all life—came hurtling in from the distant sky without the slightest warning!
Its target—
Gern's neck.
Gern's pupils contracted violently. His combat instincts reacted faster than thought.
"Heavenquake Flash!"
His body instantly dispersed into countless vibrating particles and vanished from where he stood!
Almost the exact moment he disappeared—
"SHRRK—!!!"
An enormous, hyper-condensed, pitch-black crescent slash tore through the air!
Like a ghostly claw ripping open the heavens themselves, it crossed the battlefield in complete silence—yet at an incomprehensible speed!
Its target was not Gern.
It was the Heavenquake · Stellar Ring crushing the Ushi-Oni.
That powerful star ring—capable of suppressing a Mythical Zoan—
Before this dark slash, it was like fragile glass.
Split cleanly in two.
Its structure collapsed instantly, exploding into a storm of chaotic vibration particles before dispersing completely!
And after cleaving through the ring, the slash lost none of its momentum—if anything, it grew even sharper, cutting straight toward the position where Gern had just reassembled!
Gern's form had only just solidified when the fatal strike was already upon him!
The edge alone made his skin prickle with pain.
"This kind of slash…" Gern's eyes turned deadly serious. Facing an attack that genuinely threatened his life, he dared not relax for even a fraction of a second.
His right hand clenched hard around the hilt of the black blade Eight Desolations at his waist.
Humm—
Something strange happened.
The dark red patterns that once crawled across the jet-black blade like veins suddenly seemed to come alive, greedily absorbing the surging torrent of Gern's Haoshoku Haki.
Their color deepened rapidly—
Until they transformed completely into a profound, ominous violet-black.
The entire blade radiated a devouring darkness, as though it could swallow all things.
"Hah!"
Gern exhaled sharply and drew his blade in a powerful upward slash!
"Heavenquake · Nether Sever!"
The instant Eight Desolations swung forth, a twisted vortex of violet-black Haki erupted in front of the blade, warping the very space around it!
Accompanied by a shrill, soul-piercing hum—like the wails of countless wronged spirits—a devastating violet-black torrent, fused from extreme vibration force and top-tier Conqueror's Haki coating, slammed head-on into the incoming dark slash!
There was no earth-shattering explosion.
Only a teeth-grinding shrrrk—as though space itself were being torn apart!
At the point where the two ultimate slashes collided, the space there seemed to collapse for an instant. Light twisted, then vanished entirely!
In the next moment—
The violet-black torrent unleashed by Gern forcibly split the dark slash down the middle!
The two severed halves screamed past Gern's body on either side, smashing into the distant ground and the remaining ruins behind him!
"Crack! Crack!"
What was truly horrifying was that the split slashes did not explode.
Instead, they released an intensely frigid sword aura—
Instantly freezing and petrifying everything they touched, before silently erasing it into the finest dust.
The land to Gern's left and right became frozen dead zones in an instant, forming an eerie contrast with the untouched space where he stood.
(The freezing effect originates from Nasjuro Saint's Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit ability.)
Gern slowly sheathed his blade and tilted his head slightly, his icy gaze shifting toward the direction from which the slash had come.
Not far away, an enormous figure had appeared at some unknown point in time.
Ethanbaron V. Nasjuro Saint was no longer in human form.
His lower body had completely transformed into the towering, ferocious skeleton of a warhorse. Four hardened bone hooves shattered the ground beneath them, wreathed in ominous black mist and the distinctive flames of awakening.
His upper body remained human, muscles knotted and powerful—
His entire being had become a majestic yet horrifying centaur!!!
Thick, ink-black awakened flames writhed around him like living creatures, rising and coiling, exuding a pressure that made souls tremble.
One hand gripped the sheath of the First-Generation Kitetsu.
The other rested firmly on the hilt, poised in a stance that was either the very end of an iaijutsu draw—or the calm before the next one.
Though the cursed blade was partially sheathed, black lightning still crackled ominously along its surface.
He stood atop slightly elevated ruins, looking down at Gern from above.
Those inhuman, icy eyes held no emotion whatsoever.
Only pure detachment—the gaze one used when looking at a dead thing—and an overwhelming, naked killing intent, locked directly onto Gern.
Ethan baron V. Nasjuro Saint and Gern Reginald Sigmar
...…
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