...…
The isolated island deathmatch and the final elegy
The sudden deathly silence was more unsettling than the deafening roars.
On the deck of the Oro Jackson, Rayleigh carefully placed Shakky in a relatively stable corner, then exchanged a glance with Scopper Gaban.
No words were needed; decades of tacit understanding allowed them to instantly read each other.
Something had happened on the captain's side—or at least, the battle had entered its most critical and dangerous phase.
They couldn't just leave like this, even if Roger had ordered them to go.
"You absolutely do not follow us!"
Rayleigh turned, facing the anxious comrades on the ship, his voice firm and resolute: "Set sail now! Take the ship to safe waters, then wait! This is an order!"
"Mr. Rayleigh! Mr. Scopper Gaban!" a crew member shouted urgently.
"Execute the order!"
Scopper Gaban yelled, his gaze sharp: "Believe in us—and believe in Roger!"
As the words fell, two figures shot off like arrows from a bow, leaping from the deck. In a few bounds, they charged into the smoke-filled, devastated forest, racing toward the heart-palpitating center of silence.
Behind them, watching Rayleigh leave, Shakky began to take charge. As the woman of their vice-captain, Roger's crew listened to her arrangements without question…
With Shakky issuing tasks in an orderly manner, under the tearful operations of the Roger Pirates crew, the ship slowly turned its bow and sailed away from that sea…
Almost simultaneously, in various parts of God Valley, the final evacuations were racing against time.
The ornate ships loaded with shaken and even somewhat dazed Celestial Dragons had long raised their sails, sailing headlong toward the distant sea—as if the island behind was a source of plague.
At the coast, under Monkey D. Dragon's unyielding command—going so far as to draw his gun—the Marine warships reluctantly took on board a group of ragged, battered survivors.
Among them were slaves who had narrowly escaped, civilians who had evaded the initial massacre, and a few scattered pirates too exhausted to fight anymore.
Dragon stood at the ship's rail, gazing toward the dead-silent center of the island, clenching his fist.
He hadn't found Shanks, nor had he saved Shamrock…
This tore at his heart like a knife, but at this moment, he had at least saved some people—though this act had completely betrayed the Marines' "rules."
On the sea farther out, the World Government's exclusive ship sailed at a steady pace.
Inside the cabin, one of the Five Elders—Saint Jaygarcia Saturn—stood quietly. His eyes went blank for a moment, then the unique spiral pattern slowly rotated once more in the depths of his pupils.
A voice—neither male nor female, neither old nor young, as if layered from countless whispers—rang indifferently directly in the minds of certain specific personnel in the control room: "That island… just pretend it never existed. That will do."
The order was issued, meaning God Valley would be completely erased from all official records.
Geographic information, population data, the roster of "human hunt" participants… all traces would be destroyed.
The death toll from this incident was simply classified as "unknown."
Soon after, Marine Headquarters' G-11 Branch and CP6 would receive a vaguely worded "top-secret mission" report along with a generous "special compensation" to seal their lips and cover up the truth.
Imu's consciousness had not fully departed; a part of it remained attached within Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, coldly overseeing the "work's" conclusion while assessing the final outcomes of the unexpected variables—Roger and Garp.
Just as everyone thought the dust had settled—or were busy fleeing, or busy covering up…
"BOOM!!!"
A roar more violent and more brutal than any before surged skyward from the central area of God Valley!
A terrifying shockwave spread visibly in a ring, instantly flattening the few remaining high grounds in the central region—and even shaking the already precarious massive mountain on the other side of the island until it completely collapsed!
Boulders tumbled, dust blotting out the sun; the entire island's structure seemed to groan under the unbearable strain!
The final decisive battle had not ended—instead, it had entered an even more intense, more desperate phase!
At the core of the battlefield, the air was thick with the scent of scorched earth and intense blood.
Roger used Ace to support his body, gasping violently. Sweat, blood, and grime mixed together
slid down his resolute face, dripping onto the scorching ground with a faint "sizzle."
Garp lay spread-eagled nearby, beneath him a human-shaped depression he had smashed out.
"That government black monster… Garp, you saw it, right?"
Roger spat a mouthful of blood foam, his voice hoarse: "With something like this… even 'justice' would be dumbfounded hearing about it!"
He wasn't just referring to the demon Rocks, but to what lay hidden behind it all—that cold, merciless will that viewed all living beings as ants and could create such a terrifying "weapon"…
The highest authority of the World Government!
A guttural sound escaped Garp's throat as he struggled to sit up, succeeding only after several attempts.
The expression on his face was complex to the extreme—anger, sorrow, and more than that, a bewilderment from having his worldview upended.
"I feel the same…"
Garp's voice was low and weary: "In my whole life… this is the first time I've run into something so… absurd."
A brief silence. Only the lingering echoes of distant collapsing mountains and the wailing wind.
"Hey, Garp,"
Roger suddenly grinned, though the smile twisted from pain: "If you ever can't hack it in the Marines anymore… come join me? How about it?"
Garp was stunned for a moment, then snorted irritably: "Don't talk nonsense. If I quit, who's gonna beat down you lawless bastards?
Who'll protect the soldiers and civilians who trust the Marines? Who'll… guard this hopeless but un-abandonable world?"
The expected response.
Roger's smile widened a bit, carrying a trace of helplessness—and a trace of mutual respect.
Their positions were opposed, their beliefs vastly different—but at this moment, in their understanding of the word "protection," there was a strange resonance.
"Garp…"
Roger's gaze sharpened once more. He struggled to stand fully upright, his eyes turning toward the increasingly dense darkness at the pit's center: "Don't you think… the key is in the 'quality'?"
"Quality? What quality?" Garp frowned, enduring the excruciating pain as he slowly stood up.
"Haki."
Roger slowly raised Ace, faint arcs of Conqueror's Haki once more struggling to leap along the blade: "In the end, Armament Haki is a power that can suppress even Devil Fruit abilities!
Not to mention, we're combining it with Conqueror's infusion! In theory, it should be able to break through any defense and damage any existence!"
A flash of light sparked in Garp's eyes, as if grasping something: "You mean…"
"Our attacks have enough intensity, but the 'quality' might not be pure enough, not concentrated enough! It hasn't surpassed Rocks'…"
Roger's voice was firm, his thoughts growing clearer: "This monster… Rocks' body has been transformed by that dark power, with near-endless regeneration and bizarre Haki strength…
"To surpass the opponent's power…"
Garp murmured in repetition, his gaze gradually turning resolute and mad: "Meaning, abandon all defense and follow-up—bet every last bit of Haki, everything, on the next strike!?"
"Exactly!"
Roger nodded, veins bulging on his forehead as he began madly squeezing out the last of his strength: "Maximum output! No hesitations, no backups!
Either settle it in one strike, end him completely… or… we stay here and sleep with him eternally!"
This was a gamble.
Staking everything, including their lives. If after this strike,
the demon Rocks still hadn't fallen, then the exhausted and defenseless them would be like lambs to the slaughter.
But they had no choice.
Conventional fighting was just slow death; this monster's stamina and regeneration seemed endless.
"BAM!!!"
At that moment, the dense darkness at the pit's center exploded like something solid!
The demon Rocks' figure emerged whole once more. The black patterns on his body seemed somewhat dimmer, his grotesque shell covered in cracks…
Clearly, Roger and Garp's previous onslaught hadn't been entirely ineffective. This monster wasn't truly invincible…
It too had reached the edge of its limits—just more resilient, closer to "inhuman."
Outside the light screen, seeing this battle about to end, quite a few people began sweating for Roger and Garp…
And outside God Valley, everyone was dumbfounded. They hadn't expected the World Government to ultimately conceal and seal away this incident!
This time, ordinary people hadn't even had a clue—it was simply too terrifying. An entire island—population, geography, area—all erased…
Not just the masses; even some Marines watching everything on the light screen were stunned. Quite a few Marines couldn't even hold their guns steady!
They had joined the Marines to protect the masses, to guard ordinary people—but everything on the light screen completely contradicted that. The Marines had even been reduced to accomplices.
These new recruits who had just joined the Marines—how could they bear such a psychological gap? They began to waver in morale, becoming dispirited and listless,
...