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God Valley · Embers and Rebirth, Heroes' Dead End and Villains' Triumph
Above the light screen, the scene was suffocating. In the shattered crater, dust had yet to settle.
Rocks lay on the scorching ground, his chest rising and falling weakly.
He could feel Saint Garling's footsteps drawing closer step by step—those steps carried the arrogance of a divine servant and the glee of revenge…
A tiger fallen to the plains, bullied by dogs.
The phrase flashed through Rocks' mind, carrying a bone-chilling cold.
Once, with a wave of his hand, he could make the seas tremble, make the World Government wary, make God's Knights treat him as a mortal enemy.
But now… he couldn't even lift a single finger. Roger and Garp had poured everything into "saving" him from that dark abyss. This "salvation" wasn't about preserving life—it was about saving his soul…
Allowing Rocks—at the very least—to meet his end as "Rocks D. Xebec," not as a monster.
He should be grateful.
In fact, he was grateful.
That silent gratitude had been crystal clear in his final fading consciousness…
But now…
Saint Garling's figure appeared at the edge of his blurred vision.
"Hey… Roger… Garp…"
Rocks used the last shred of his will to try mobilizing his vocal cords—even if only a faint breath escaped: "Run, you two… you can't die here now…"
He saw the two men lying not far away.
Roger's chest still rose and fell; Garp's fingers twitched faintly.
They were still alive, but completely unconscious—utterly defenseless.
If Saint Garling discovered them, the consequences would be unthinkable.
These two enemies-turned-benefactors had risked their lives to grant him his final dignity. He absolutely could not let them die at the hands of such petty villains!
And… that unspoken "thank you."
But all that came from his throat was the gurgle of blood foam surging up.
Not a single sound could emerge…
Despair clamped around his remaining consciousness like an ice-cold iron band.
"…"
Saint Garling had already reached Rocks' side and stopped.
He looked down at the man who had once made all of Mary Geoise sleepless—the overlord of the seas who had nearly overturned the world order.
Now so fragile, so… defenseless.
Saint Garling's face showed no expression.
Only a cold, almost mechanical indifference.
As if the figure before him wasn't a living person, but an "error" that needed to be purged—an item awaiting a stamp of "completed."
He slowly raised the long sword in his hand.
The blade reflected a chilling gleam in the dim light.
This was an ornate, famous sword engraved with the Celestial Dragons' crest—symbolizing the power and life-or-death authority of the "descendants of the creators."
Rocks' pupils contracted slightly…
He could see the sword tip trembling faintly—not from fear or excitement, but from a certain… exhilaration within the wielder?
No, more like a sense of ceremony.
A self-intoxicated feeling of "I will personally end an era."
No nonsense!
Saint Garling couldn't even be bothered to say something like "Rest in peace" or "This is the fate of those who defy the gods."
He simply aimed the sword tip at Rocks' heart.
Then thrust down with full force.
"Pfft!!"
The sound of sharp steel piercing flesh, bone, and finally earth rang out with exceptional clarity and harshness in the crater.
Rocks' body jerked violently, then went completely limp.
Those eyes that had just regained a trace of clarity had their pupils instantly dilate—then the light rapidly faded.
What lingered in the depths of those eyes at the very end was not pain, not fear—but an extreme… regret!!
Regret for the unfulfilled "Davy's promise."
Regret for never seeing his own child grow up.
Regret for never truly saying goodbye to Eris.
Regret for never… truly overturning this twisted world.
A generation's supreme overlord, the one-of-a-kind ruler of the seas—Rocks D. Xebec—along with unfulfilled promises and dreams…
ultimately met his curtain call with the last trace of clear consciousness, under the sword of God's Knights Commander Saint Garling.
He fell into eternal slumber on this island that had nearly collapsed because of him.
Saint Garling withdrew the long sword, bringing out a string of blood beads…
He looked coldly at Rocks' lifeless body, confirmed for a few seconds, then turned, his gaze beginning to sweep the surroundings in search of the other two targets… Roger and Garp.
But in the instant he turned!
Outside the light screen, the entire God Valley—and every kingdom and island watching this scene through some unknown means—fell into an unprecedented dead silence!
Then erupted in a tsunami-like roar of mixed shock, fear, sorrow, and rage!
"That Rocks… just… died like that?!"
Someone murmured, voice filled with disbelief.
In the minds of many—even ordinary people who hated pirates—Rocks D. Xebec was practically synonymous with "invincible."
He was tyrannical, domineering, ambitious—like a moving natural disaster on the seas.
Yet now, this legend had died so easily, so nearly humiliatingly, from a backstabbing finishing blow by a Celestial Dragon knight?
"Even though he was a pirate… why… can't I feel happy about this at all?"
A middle-aged man who should have cheered "the villain has been slain" covered his face, voice choking.
"Yeah… I can't laugh either… He was clearly an extreme evil pirate, hurt so many people, destroyed so many places…"
The woman beside him continued, her gaze blank: "But why… when I saw that look in his eyes at the end… did I feel sad?"
Similar murmurs spread through the crowd, gathering into a suppressed torrent.
"Maybe… compared to Rocks, that black monster… and the World Government's attitude… are what truly terrify us."
A bespectacled, scholarly-looking man pushed up his glasses, voicing what many felt in heavy tones.
Rocks was "evil"—a visible threat.
But what was that black demon born from within Rocks, nearly destroying everything?
The World Government clearly knew about it—even played a part in creating it—yet desperately covered it up!
The Marines' inaction during the incident, their abandonment of civilians and slaves, their post-event erasure of the truth, and the "cleanup" behavior of those calling themselves God's Knights…
These things were far more horrifying upon reflection, far more bone-chilling than one "powerful but comprehensible" pirate overlord!
What kind of "inhuman" beings were ruling the world they lived in?
What kind of lies and bloodshed was the so-called "justice" and "order" built upon?
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