Chapter 172: Trident's Fury – Carving Skypiea Anew!
Ross's voice cut through the tense air like a blade, calm and unyielding. "My purpose is straightforward. From this day forward, Skypiea falls under the World Government's domain. We'll rename it the Skypiea Special District, fully under our jurisdiction. As a gesture, I can appoint you its first governor."
He locked eyes with Gan Fall, delivering the decree without preamble or compromise. No negotiations—just an ironclad command.
Gan Fall's overall threat level? A mere C-rank at best. Even as Skypiea's mightiest warrior, he paled against the forces Ross commanded back in Jaygarcia District. Sky Island wasn't even in the league for equal talks.
Its population barely scraped 10,000 souls. If Ross desired, he could raze Angel Island and Upper Yard to the waves in under ten minutes, leaving nothing but echoes. Offering words instead of immediate action was already mercy.
The winged folk here intrigued him—their delicate white wings and ethereal looks aligned with his tastes, especially in the women like Conis. The men? Their stock could use some selective breeding to refine the lineage.
If Gan Fall resisted, Ross would purge the obstacles without hesitation. Submission? He'd let the old man linger in power a while longer. At Zephyr's age, Gan Fall's days were numbered anyway. A smooth handover post-retirement would spare Ross future headaches.
"This..." Gan Fall faltered, his face twisting with clear reluctance.
He'd play the benevolent god for fleeting visitors, showering them with divine hospitality. But outright annexation? That stung.
Still, it was a probe—a bid to gauge Ross's intentions. If conquest meant subjugation, he'd fight to the last breath. The God's Guards flanking him drew weapons in sync, eyes locked on Ross, awaiting the signal to strike.
What nonsense is this? Skypiea belongs to its people. You Blue Sea invaders think we'll bow to your rule? Not a chance!
Ross caught the storm of emotions rippling across Gan Fall's features and the guards' hostile glares. A faint, mocking smile tugged at his lips. "You've got four years left on your throne. That's my generosity."
No more games. Time to show them the gulf between worlds.
In a fluid motion, Poseidon's Trident materialized in Ross's grip. He ignored the bristling tension around him, his focus sharpening inward.
Sizzle!
A raw surge of power ignited the weapon. This was a technique born from the Redfield's demise—his first field test, fusing Conqueror's Haki with the Devil Fruit's oceanic might.
If Ross had seemed enigmatic before, now he embodied divine wrath. Conqueror's Haki cloaked him like an approaching storm, the trident gleaming with otherworldly menace. The air thickened, pressing down with an aura that chilled the soul.
Even without targeting them directly, the pressure hit like a glacial wave. Gan Fall and his God's Guards froze, faces draining to ashen pallor, as if plunged into an arctic abyss.
The guards buckled first. An invisible weight crushed them, knees slamming to the stone. They knelt in rigid terror, eyes wide with dread, bodies locked in place—strength and defiance siphoned away in an instant.
This was just the ambient fallout from Ross's presence. A direct hit? With their caliber, unconsciousness was the mercy; death a real risk.
"So... immense..." Gan Fall rasped, the sole Sky Islander still on his feet. His legs quaked, complexion ghostly, form teetering on collapse. Only raw will kept him vertical.
The Haki's raw dominance screamed Ross's verdict: resistance was futile. Whatever he willed, they'd shatter against it.
And the truth burned—before a blow landed, they were already broken. The chasm was insurmountable.
Conis exhaled softly, unsurprised. Sheltered by Gion's vigilance and Ross's subtle control, she stood unaffected, watching freely.
The devastation around her said it all: some overwhelming force had felled them without a fight. If the opening act crushed spirits this thoroughly, what hope lingered for the main event?
It wasn't cowardice holding Conis back. Ross's display stripped away any illusion of viable rebellion. The Shandians' slaughter had foreshadowed this—from the moment she'd guided him here, the end was etched.
Yet Ross wasn't done. This was merely the prelude.
As his Conqueror's Haki crested, it coiled tighter around the trident, humming with cataclysmic energy. At its zenith, Ross pivoted and unleashed a sweeping arc into the empty expanse ahead.
Buzz!
The world muted in an instant—colors bleached, winds howling in frenzy. Upper Yard shuddered beneath them, a guttural groan ripping from the earth as if the island itself recoiled in agony.
Under the stunned stares of Gan Fall's crew—even Gion and Sora, caught off guard—a spectacle unfolded.
From the trident's path erupted a colossal torrent: a crimson cascade, vivid as forked lightning, roaring like a breached leviathan. Ten meters wide at minimum, it lanced skyward, threatening to rend the heavens. Its reach? Immeasurable, a serpent of destruction uncoiling without bound.
Helpless, they watched it barrel forward, pulverizing all in its wake with merciless fury.
Ancient behemoth trees splintered like matchsticks. Unyielding boulders vaporized to mist. Rolling hills flattened, and proud peaks crumbled—everything yielding like wet sand before the onslaught.
The scarlet deluge raged on, an endless scar etching the landscape. It carved a dozen kilometers at least, bisecting Upper Yard's heart from edge to edge.
Finally, the torrent ebbed, dissolving into shimmering droplets that kissed the air before vanishing entirely. No trace remained but the ravaged terrain—a gaping furrow testifying to the strike's might.
This was Ross's pinnacle assault: Devil Fruit dominion amplified by Conqueror's Haki, reshaping the battlefield in a single, world-altering blow.
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