Let's pull the timeline back a little.
Back to the moment Pangea Castle was blown apart.
Thick gunpowder smoke billowed amidst the ruins. Suddenly, from beneath the heavy rubble, a glowing golden arm thrust upward—it was Fleet Admiral Sengoku.
He had already transformed into his Great Buddha form.
His shockwaves hadn't been enough to stop that pillar of light; having taken an unknown attack head-on, the Fleet Admiral was far from feeling well. On the surface, his body remained indestructible and showed no outward wounds, but blood seeped from the corners of his mouth.
He had clearly sustained significant internal injuries.
"Cough, cough..." Sengoku spat out two mouthfuls of stagnant blood before finally feeling a bit of relief.
Ever since he became Fleet Admiral, or more accurately, since Diarmuid took up the mantle of Admiral, he was no longer the only top-tier combatant, and he rarely headed to the front lines himself. He usually focused on central command and coordination.
Consequently, it had been a very long time since he had exerted himself like this.
For a moment, he truly struggled to adjust. It was lucky he possessed a Mythical Zoan ability; his physical constitution was incredibly sturdy. Otherwise, that hit might have claimed half his life.
Rising from the ruins, he glanced back. The dust was too thick to see clearly, but he could tell that over half of Pangea Castle had collapsed. The conference room behind him was now nothing more than a graveyard of stone.
Sengoku's heart went cold. Damn it, there were a hundred royals in there!
If a hundred kings were wiped out in a single stroke here, the entire world would fall into absolute chaos!
To be honest, he never expected this to happen.
Originally, they were just verbally denouncing the Gorosei to seize the moral high ground and legal legitimacy. They were simply waiting for the Gorosei to attempt an escape before Borsalino and Diarmuid made their move.
So how did they suddenly get hit by a cannon blast?
As a veteran of the battlefield, Sengoku knew deep down that the strike wasn't meant to rescue the Gorosei. Even if there hadn't been a revolt, even if the meeting had proceeded normally, they still would have been attacked!
This strike had nothing to do with the Navy's actions or the progress of the meeting. It felt more like... silencing witnesses.
Panic flickered in his chest. Killing a hundred kings at once was a catastrophe of unprecedented proportions.
Sengoku turned quickly and began shoving ruins aside, digging deep. Relying on his massive Buddha form, his digging speed was formidable. After shifting several massive stones, he saw a pool of scalding magma glowing beneath the wreckage.
"Sakazuki!? Is that you?" Sengoku shouted.
Magma couldn't possibly appear here naturally. If it was present, only Sakazuki could be responsible!
As if hearing the shout from above, the magma in the area Sengoku was digging slowly receded, revealing a massive hollow space.
Sengoku looked down into the hole. Beneath where the magma had been, about three or four meters down, was a dense, crisscrossing web of white lines... It was these white strings that held up the collapsed ruins, preventing them from crushing those below.
Undoubtedly, this was Doflamingo's handiwork.
"Fleet Admiral?" Sakazuki's voice drifted up.
"It's me. What's the situation?" Sengoku asked urgently.
"The situation is grim. Though Borsalino, Vice Admiral Garp, that fellow Doflamingo, and I responded immediately, the aftershocks of the impact still dealt heavy damage to the various royals. Seven kings are dead, and over twenty are critically injured... We need medics!" Sakazuki responded rapidly.
Though it sounded dire, Sengoku let out a sigh of relief. Only seven dead? That was a blessing amidst the misfortune. He had feared they had all been wiped out.
"Where's Diarmuid? How is he?" Sengoku asked again.
"He wasn't buried with us..." Sakazuki said calmly.
There wasn't a hint of worry for Diarmuid in his tone. It made sense; Diarmuid wasn't someone who needed his concern. Sakazuki wouldn't believe for a second that Diarmuid could be killed by an attack of that caliber.
That guy was a monster in his own right.
Sengoku quickly reverted to his normal size and descended into the hollow.
The current situation was awkward. If those hundred kings weren't there, they could have charged out to counterattack immediately. But with these hundred "dead weights" holding them back, Sakazuki, Borsalino, Doflamingo, and even Sengoku himself didn't dare show their faces.
Earlier, Sakazuki and the others were pretending to be "wiped out," which was why there had been no movement.
No one knew if another energy attack like that was coming. If they moved recklessly and another strike landed, they would likely survive, but the royals would be toast.
Thus, the best response was to wait, stay hidden, maintain defensive preparations, and wait for reinforcements.
Once the Navy's backup arrived, once Gion and the others brought the army to escort these VIPs to the rear, only then could they cut loose and fight. Otherwise, the mere shockwaves from a battle between these powerhouses would be enough to kill every so-called "king" present.
Not long after Sengoku ducked into the hollow…
In another section of the ruins nearby, there was a slight disturbance. Faint traces of dark energy occasionally leaked through the gaps in the rubble. Slowly and imperceptibly, the surrounding debris was being swallowed by that darkness.
About five minutes later, Diarmuid's head popped out from the darkness. He looked around, his expression carrying a hint of surprise.
That was one hell of a backstab.
In the final second before the attack landed, Diarmuid hadn't had time for elaborate maneuvers. His first instinct was to protect Stussy.
There were many people in that hall he was on good terms with—Sakazuki, Borsalino, Garp, and the like. But Diarmuid didn't lift a finger for them because he didn't need to. Those guys were far too strong to be killed by a strike like that.
Only Stussy, who, despite holding the rank of Director-General of the CP and having status comparable to Sengoku, was actually quite weak in terms of raw combat power. She wasn't a top-tier expert.
Those other guys could block the hit, but the Queen might not have. To ensure he didn't become a widower, Diarmuid chose to shield her immediately.
Moreover, Stussy's position had been somewhat awkward; she was sitting right next to the Gorosei's seats, which happened to be the primary target of the attack!
Diarmuid had every reason to suspect the strike was intended to take out the Gorosei first.
Unreal!
"He's not going to make it..." Stussy's voice came from beneath the ruins.
Diarmuid didn't move rashly, making the same choice as Sengoku. Although his Dark-Dark Fruit abilities could theoretically block an attack from Pluton if fully deployed, making it a peerless defense, there were still a hundred kings to consider. Who would dare take that risk?
What if the attacker... well, Diarmuid guessed it was Imu... what if Imu actually had a way to activate Uranus?
Just because he could block Pluton didn't mean he could block Uranus. It was no joke; Diarmuid didn't even know what Uranus's method of attack was yet.
So, he chose the safe route: hide in place, maintain defense, and wait for the Navy to arrive and ferry the dead weights away.
Hearing the Queen's voice, Diarmuid faded back into the darkness.
Beneath the rubble was a space roughly six or seven meters in dimension. The Queen was covered in gunpowder soot and dust, looking quite disheveled, but she wasn't injured. Diarmuid had protected her perfectly.
However, the person beside her hadn't been so lucky.
It was one of the Gorosei, the bald one.
The very same one Diarmuid had cursed out until he spat blood and fainted. Diarmuid had no idea if the other four were dead or alive; after the explosion, he hadn't bothered with them.
But this guy was unfortunate. He was unconscious at the time, and while the Queen was right next to him and Diarmuid could have theoretically saved him as well, the intensity of the attack was unknown. Diarmuid wasn't about to get distracted by "extra" business. His woman came first.
The result...
This bald Elder was at death's door.
Looking closely, it was quite gruesome. He had woken up, jolted conscious by the searing pain. A chunk of his left waist, right where the kidney sits, looked as if it had been scooped out. It was a bloody mess, a fatal wound.
He had lost a kidney.
He was already of advanced age, his physical resilience far below that of a young man. With a ruptured organ, no way to stop the bleeding, and such a poor environment... there was truly no way out.
Seeing this, Diarmuid felt a flicker of emotion. No matter how much power one wielded, everyone was equal in the face of death.
Though they were currently enemies, Diarmuid didn't actually harbor deep personal hatred for the Gorosei. This enmity wasn't personal; it was just a matter of stance and interest. Setting that aside, this "Baldy" was technically an old acquaintance.
Watching this acquaintance about to die here, Diarmuid felt a bit complex.
"You're dying," Diarmuid said, glancing at him with a sigh.
The bald Elder hadn't spoken, nor had he cried out in pain. He just lay there, motionless, eyes fixed on the ruins above. If not for the fact that he was still breathing, Diarmuid would have thought he was already gone.
Hearing Diarmuid's voice, the Elder's eyes shifted, landing on Diarmuid. His gaze was equally complex.
"It was Imu..." the Elder suddenly croaked.
This time, he didn't say "Imu-sama." Diarmuid nodded. "It must be."
"Inside the Domain of the Gods, there is a Mini-Pluton... Though I was unconscious, I caught a glimpse of it at the end. That attack... it was definitely the Mini-Pluton," he whispered.
"Mini-Pluton!?" Diarmuid's eyes widened. He had felt the attack seemed familiar, similar to the feeling in Alabasta, just with less power.
"Poseidon is the Princess of Fish-Man Island... Pluton is likely in Alabasta; we knew all this... Diarmuid, Mariejois has always held onto remnants of the old technology, trying to revive Pluton... Though they could never achieve the power recorded in history, the Mini-Pluton is still terrifying... And, inside the Domain of the Gods... there is also... also..."
The Elder, for reasons known only to him, began to spill secrets. But as he reached this point, his voice grew too weak.
"Hey, hey! Finish the sentence before you die!" Diarmuid grabbed the Elder's arm and shook him.
However, upon hearing those words, a faint smirk played on the bald Elder's lips. With his final breath, he wheezed:
"If you're... annoyed... then I'm... happy... Haha... Hahaha... hic."
One final gasp, and he was gone.
He died incredibly abruptly!
Diarmuid: "???"
Are you serious? Your desire for petty revenge is that strong?
Was that really necessary?!