...
Dark red, pitch black, vibrations, monstrous strength, dragon breath…
The glow from the attacks of Rocks and the others gradually dissipated, leaving the battlefield shrouded in the scorching heat and dead silence of utter destruction.
Everyone's gazes were locked tightly on that still-writhing mass of shattered flesh.
The monster controlled by Imu had not fallen.
No—to be precise, it had indeed been destroyed.
No one could withstand the combined might of those six; at the very core of the attack, the monster's shell had truly been reduced to fine dust.
Yet bizarrely, the scattered black substance was visibly converging toward the center at a speed the eye could follow, reassembling itself.
Severed limbs "crawled" back from the ground into the main body, black slime flowed backward, shattered bone spikes regrew, and other fragments rapidly knit together.
"This… how is this possible…"
For the first time, the Arrogance on Rocks' face vanished, replaced by an unprecedented gravity.
His fingers gripping the long sword turned white from the force, a single bead of cold sweat appearing at his temple.
In theory, his "Pandemonium of the Abyss" combined with the other five's attacks should have been enough to completely erase any existence from the material level.
But this monster before him… was regenerating in defiance of all reason.
"Hey, Linlin… am I seeing things?!"
Kaido's dragon face was filled with shock and disbelief, his massive vertical pupils fixed on the black mass still reassembling.
"That strike of mine just now could flatten a mountain! What the hell is this thing?!"
Big Mom—Charlotte Linlin—had also set aside her fury toward Kaido for the moment. Her brows were tightly furrowed, and the tip of Napoleon's giant sword drooped slightly.
She was angry, but not stupid. The scene before her exceeded the limits of her understanding.
Even the most top-tier Awakened Zoan user could not possibly emerge unscathed from an attack of that caliber—let alone regenerate in a way that resembled "time reversal."
"Mam-ma-ma-ma…"
Her laughter was dry and heavy: "I've never seen anything like this either… This isn't 'recovery'… It's more like…"
"Like an immortal, indestructible monster…"
Whitebeard's low voice picked up the thought. His grip on Murakumogiri remained exceptionally steady, but his eyes were incredibly sharp: "Physical destruction has no effect on it…"
Garp clenched his right fist, teeth grinding audibly: "So… this thing can't be killed?"
Roger's excitement cooled slightly as well. He scratched his head, unusually showing a troubled expression: "This is troublesome… The thing's pretty damn durable!"
At the God Valley site, everyone watching the light screen—whether pirates, Marines, Celestial Dragons, or ordinary civilians…
All of them were so shocked by the horrifying scene that they were rendered speechless.
Those who had initially approached with a mix of amusement and curiosity now completely dropped their lighthearted attitudes, their expressions turning gravely serious.
Because they suddenly realized a cruel truth: without the intervention of this light screen, this would have been the reality they were about to face!
"We…"
A Marine Rear Admiral spoke in a parched voice as he stared at the light screen: "What we were originally going to face… was a monster like this?"
"Something that even Rocks, Roger, Vice Admiral Garp, and the others together couldn't kill…?" Another Rear Admiral turned deathly pale.
The pirate side fell into silence as well.
Silver Axe and the other great pirates exchanged heavy glances.
They had followed Rocks for conquest, plunder, to become rulers of the New World…
But if the ultimate enemy was an existence at this "rule-level," then hadn't their ambitions been doomed to futility from the very beginning?
"If I'm not mistaken,"
Silver Axe broke the silence, his voice low and slow, "this monster… should also be a Devil Fruit ability.
That form is very likely some kind of Mythical Zoan we've never seen before—the absolute top tier."
He paused, glancing toward the Five Elders with sharp eyes: "And those five old men… when they transformed, there were black 'flame clouds' around them. That's a classic sign of Zoan Awakening!
Five rare Mythical Zoans… The World Government really kept them hidden deep."
These words sparked deep contemplation among the group.
Mythical Zoans were already exceedingly rare; each one possessed power that defied common sense.
Azure Dragon, Phoenix, Great Buddha… the abilities of these legendary beasts were indeed unbelievable.
But if a Mythical Zoan's power reached a certain extreme, could it truly touch the level of "rules"?
"That doesn't seem quite right…"
Rayleigh pushed up his glasses and analyzed calmly: "Even Mythical Zoans have limits. This is no longer a question of 'regenerative ability'…"
His gaze fell on the black slime flowing backward on the light screen, his eyes profound: "This level of self-healing… physical attacks can't touch its essence at all."
Scopper Gaban gripped his axe handle tightly: "In other words… no matter how strong we are, all we can kill is a 'shell'? The real 'it' is somewhere else?"
This hypothesis sent chills down everyone's spines.
"Rocks…"
Roger turned around and looked seriously at this enemy who was temporarily his "ally": "Though I also hate the World Government and can't stand those Celestial Dragons…
If you're really planning to go all-out against them, with the goal of taking down that so-called 'King of the World'…"
As he spoke, Roger pointed at the monster on the light screen that was completing its regeneration, his tone more serious than ever: "I advise you… it's better to think long and hard about this."
Roger's words weren't mockery—they were a judgment based on reality.
His goal was "adventure," sailing to the end of the world, witnessing all the miracles and unknowns.
A full-scale war with the World Government was not part of his plans… at least not yet.
"The power we wield right now… is still far too small in the face of an enemy like this."
Roger openly admitted his own powerlessness, and for him, that was no shame.
Acknowledging the unknown was the beginning of true adventure.
After saying this, he subconsciously glanced at Monkey D. Dragon not far away.
This young leader of the Revolutionary Army was silently watching the light screen, his eyes as deep as the ocean…
At that moment, something stirred in Roger's heart: Was this the kind of enemy the Revolutionary Army of the future would have to face?
If even people standing at the pinnacle of the era found it so troublesome, wasn't it too cruel to leave this problem to the next generation…?
Seeming to sense Roger's gaze, Dragon slightly turned his head, and their eyes met.
There was no fear or retreat in Dragon's gaze—only a calm, resolute determination.
It was as if he were saying: I know. But I will still do it.
Rocks remained silent for a long time.
He looked at the monster on the light screen gradually returning to full form, now emanating an even stronger and more ominous aura, then at the grave expressions of his companions around him. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke slowly: "Now… you've given me some honest advice."
His voice was very calm—no arrogance, no anger, only a straightforward calm in facing reality.
"As expected, I still underestimated the World Government… underestimated this 'King of Rats' too much."
This was the first time Rocks D. Xebec—the man who aspired to conquer the world—publicly admitted to having underestimated his enemy.
But no one mocked him.
Because everyone understood that against such an enemy, any underestimation meant annihilation.
While the powerhouses in the central area of God Valley were shocked and reflecting on the scene in the light screen, at the edge of the outer jungle, a figure was cautiously pushing aside dense branches.
Morgans—the future "King of News"—was clutching the notebook he never went anywhere without. His heart pounded wildly, yet his whole body trembled with excitement.
He had only just reached the outskirts of God Valley when the sight before him left him stunned.
The pitted, scorched-black ground looked as if it had been bombarded by a meteor shower.
Huge fissures plunged endlessly deep, their edges still bearing traces of high-temperature melting.
Broken trees, shattered rocks, scattered weapon remnants… What was even more heart-wrenching were the corpses lying haphazardly in pools of blood.
Most were dressed in rags, bearing marks of chains—clearly slaves brought by the Celestial Dragons as "entertainment."
"Just these scenes alone…"
Morgans took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down as he quickly jotted notes in his notebook: "These are already enough to prove the Celestial Dragons' atrocities, the Marines' complicity, and the sheer brutality of this chaotic battle…"
Thinking this, Morgans pulled out the small portable Den Den Mushi he carried, adjusted the focus, and began recording.
The despairing expressions of the slaves, the traces of those used as targets and shot, even some standard-issue weapons belonging to the God's Knights or Marines that hadn't yet been cleared away… all were clearly captured.
"Big news… These are all earth-shaking pieces of big news…"
Morgans muttered to himself, his fingers trembling slightly from excitement: "I have to record all of this… not a single photo can be missed!"
At that moment, he heard suppressed gasps and whispers coming from farther away.
Morgans' eyes lit up. He quickly stowed the Den Den Mushi and, moving like a nimble cat, used the terrain and vegetation for cover to stealthily approach the source of the sound.
Pushing aside the final cluster of bushes, the scene before him made his breath catch.
Roger, Rocks, Garp…
And Whitebeard, Golden Lion, Big Mom, Kaido… all these great pirates who only existed on bounty posters and in rumors were gathered right here!
Farther off were the Marines' Garp, Sengoku, Tsuru, Zephyr…
And even those who were normally impossible to see, existing only in legend… the Five Elders!
Morgans' heart nearly leaped out of his chest.
He forcibly suppressed his surging emotions, carefully retreated a few steps, and completely concealed himself in the shadows.
"No one's noticed me… perfect…"
He let out a slight sigh of relief, but immediately grew tense again.
In a gathering of this level, a reporter with zero combat ability—if discovered, the consequences would be unthinkable.
Yet despite his fear, he did not leave.
The instinct of a newsman overpowered the terror.
He lingered on the outskirts, using terrain and blind spots in the crowd's line of sight to get as close as possible, ears pricked to catch fragments of conversation from those big shots.
Snatches of words drifted into his ears. Morgans quickly recorded them, his brain working furiously to piece together the truth.
...