As yet another Celestial Dragon's skull was crushed before everyone's eyes, panic and fury swept through the ranks of the navy and CP agents. Blood soaked the gilded streets of God Valley. This time, there was no denying it—the Hell Pirates had crossed the line. They weren't just raiding. They were slaughtering the so-called gods of the world.
But the strangest thing was not Admiral Hoss trying to stop Brook. Instead, it was Brook standing in the admiral's path, intercepting him and Bloody Hand Braver to prevent them from rescuing the nobles. The flow of battle had flipped upside down in an instant.
"Yohohoho! Everyone, unleash everything you've got!" Brook's eerie laugh cut across the battlefield. He was locked in a deadly clash against Admiral Hoss and the bloodied Braver. He already sensed Kaido's aura shifting. It was close. If the boy killed a few more Celestial Dragons, he might awaken.
Kaido and Oden were only eleven years old, yet they were already dancing on the edge of legend. In the stories yet to come, both would awaken the Conqueror's Haki—proof that they were chosen by destiny.
Brook had seen others awaken at a similar age. Katakuri, Doflamingo, Ace… all had done it younger than Luffy. Rage, grief, or desperation had been the spark that tore open their wills and summoned forth their kingship. Why not here? Why not now, with Kaido and Oden bathed in blood and fire, standing before trembling gods?
Of course, Brook himself didn't truly believe that "killing Celestial Dragons awakens Conqueror's Haki." That was a convenient lie, a rallying cry to push his men beyond their limits. But his crew clung to it like gospel. If belief could make miracles, then perhaps… perhaps it would.
On the edge of the plaza, Celestial Dragons screamed, wept, and cursed in equal measure. They berated the navy and CP agents for failing to protect them, even as their jewels rattled from trembling hands and urine stained their robes. The insults cut deeper than blades.
Brook seized the moment, his voice carrying over the din. "Yohohoho! Admiral Hoss, listen well! Even now, these so-called gods insult you, their loyal dogs, while trembling before my sword! Join us. Kill them. Cast off your chains and live free in the New World!"
His mocking laughter twisted through the air. The nobles shrieked and raged at his words, but none of their guardians could deny the truth: they were powerless to stop him.
"Brook! This won't end well for you!" Hoss's face flushed with fury. He could already see his career collapsing, his honor in tatters. The nobles he had sworn to defend were dying before his eyes, and the culprit laughed in his face.
"I don't know if my end will be good," Brook sneered, "but I know yours comes today—unless you survive me first!"
Brook vanished, reappearing in a blink before Hoss. The Seven-Star Demon Sword glowed with underworld power, its edge wrapped in the crushing aura of Conqueror's Haki. He swung for the kill.
Greed burned in Brook's hollow eyes. Another mythical Zoan. Another power to add to his collection.
The battlefield erupted. Explosions shook the earth, golden palaces crumbled like sandcastles, and God Valley itself seemed to tremble in agony.
On another front, Garp, Roger, and Rayleigh clashed with Rocks himself. Their blows split the air and gouged the land, their battle no less earth-shattering than the carnage wrought by Brook and the navy.
Whitebeard's quakes met Sengoku's shockwaves again and again. Each collision sent golden spires toppling and slaves fleeing in terror.
Shiki and Youge's duel turned the sky into a storm of slashing waves, the clash of steel birthing explosions that shredded palaces by the dozen.
Redfield, his patience broken, transformed fully into a thunder god. Lightning crowned his body as he hurled bolts at the nobles he hated so much. Zephyr and two vice admirals strained desperately to hold him back.
"Get out of my way!" Redfield's voice thundered. His lightning spear split the ground, leaving charred craters in the once-manicured courtyards.
Charlotte Linlin, cackling, drained souls from navy officers and hurled their empty husks aside. Her laughter echoed with madness as she fought three vice admirals at once.
But the Hell Pirates were stretched thin. The Rocks Pirates, greedy to their bones, had abandoned the fighting entirely to plunder the palaces. John, Silver Axe, and Miss Bakkin barked orders, sending their underlings scurrying with treasure chests toward their own ships. They left the burden of battle to Brook's men.
The martial monk Scorpion Dragon cursed them bitterly. His body, freshly stitched together by a ship's doctor, still ached from broken bones. "Cowards! Treasure will mean nothing if Rocks falls!" But his words fell on deaf ears.
Monkey King Wizz, weakened and trembling after losing his companion and overdosing on the ES drug, could only watch the chaos unfold. His strength was fading, his once-proud titan form reduced to a shadow of itself.
Only Wang Zhi remained true, rushing to Rocks's side. Silver Axe and John, however, ferried their loot back to their personal ships, ignoring their captain's plight.
Even the lesser captains of affiliated groups joined the frenzy. Gold lined the streets, spilling from broken palaces. Who would risk life and limb when fortune lay waiting to be scooped up?
Scorpion Dragon and Wizz managed to intercept some of the stolen treasures, diverting them back to the Blade of Gibek. Yet what they found chilled them to the bone. Among all the wealth, they uncovered only one or two ordinary Devil Fruits—nothing like the rare mythical powers Rocks had promised them.
And the nobles they captured? Under torture, the Celestial Dragons spat out bitter truths: the most precious fruits had already been hidden away… or stolen.
The realization struck like a cannon shot. Rocks's gamble, his war, his fury—it might all have been for nothing.
------------
If all they brought back from the Valley of the Gods was gold and silver, it would never meet Captain Rocks's expectations. The thought of his fury alone made many of his cadres sweat. Who among them dared to come back empty-handed, with nothing but trinkets, while two overlord crews had bled to seize this place?
The Rocks Pirates and the Hell Pirates tore into the navy with tooth and claw, but the realization was dawning—someone else had already intercepted the true prize. And none of them could accept that truth.
"Those Celestial Dragons who escaped really had no Devil Fruits?" Scorpion Dragon's voice was flat, his glare fixed on John and Silver Axe as they cut down fleeing nobles. Suspicion burned in his chest. If those two had embezzled the top-grade Fruits, if they had hidden them away for themselves, then everything he had lost here—the broken bones, the near loss of an arm—would have been for nothing.
He imagined the Devil Fruit in his hand, power enough to rival Redfield, Whitebeard, perhaps even surpass them. And now? Nothing. Just treasure. Just scraps.
John raised both hands defensively, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Brother Scorpion Dragon, it's true! They said they were knocked out in front of their treasury, and when they woke, the Fruits were gone! I swear, I don't have them!"
Miss Bakkin's voice rang out sharply, her eyes flicking with guilt. "Then the thief must be the one fighting Captain Rocks right now! Go to him, Brother Scorpion Dragon! Help him!"
She was desperate to divert suspicion. If Scorpion Dragon searched her ship, the rare treasures she had squirreled away would be exposed, and Rocks would never allow her to keep them.
Scorpion Dragon's gaze lingered on them both. Greed and deception oozed from every pore of Rocks's cadres. He would deal with them later. For now, the mission came first. He had to retrieve the Devil Fruits—or Rocks's wrath would crush them all.
"Fine. Hunt your treasures if you want. But if you fail Rocks today, none of you will survive his anger." With a snarl, he leapt back into the fray, racing toward Rocks's battlefield.
The moment he was gone, John and Buckin both exhaled in relief. Deep down, John cursed Rocks with every breath. If the captain died here, he could vanish with his ship stuffed with gold and carve out his own empire. But if Rocks lived and demanded the loot, all his blood-soaked effort would be for nothing. The thought made his heart ache worse than any wound.
"Don't just stand there gawking," Buckin snapped. "Find the Celestial Dragons. I don't believe every last one of their Fruits is gone!"
Her ambition blazed. If she could secure a Fruit now, she would climb even higher in Rocks's eyes. Even without one, she trusted him to eventually grant her power.
The Rocks cadres scattered, taking advantage of the Hell Pirates' clash with the navy to plunder what remained. But above them, Shiki's palaces floated like islands in the sky. If he was allowed to seize everything, there would be nothing left for anyone.
Far from the chaos, on Golden Island, Uju, Bra Cara, and Tianmulan trembled as they laid eyes on their haul. Their hands shook not from fear, but from raw, uncontrollable excitement.
Even Stussy's breath came fast and uneven. Their entire worldview—what the Celestial Dragons were, what the "gods" represented—had been shattered. The so-called rulers of the world were nothing but hoarders.
It was good, she thought, that Brook hadn't seen this treasure before diving into battle. If he had, he might have abandoned the war entirely, retreating to Sky Island to protect his prize.
"You three, keep it together! Don't faint on me!" Stussy's voice shook despite herself. For all her poise, she felt like a beggar standing in the house of kings.
She kicked aside a sapphire the size of a human head, using it as a stool to wipe her blood-stained heels. Then she smashed a pearl the size of a melon, laughing as its glow burst into glittering dust that showered the chamber.
"From now on, my toilet will be carved entirely from gemstones. Any objections?" she asked with mock elegance, covering her mouth as she giggled.
Before her, a mountain of treasure chests loomed. Thirty… forty… each one bearing the seal of the Celestial Dragons. Devil Fruits. Dozens of them. And not common ones—the kind nobles would hoard, the kind kingdoms would kill for.
Her hands shook as she picked up a black dagger, its blade shimmering faintly with the aura of a famed weapon. It was no ordinary blade but a blackened sword, forged to rival the Supreme Grade. Not one of the Twelve, but close—close enough to feel the weight of history. She strapped it to her thigh, then clasped around her neck a necklace called "Mermaid's Tears," its gem glowing a deep blue.
"Let's wait for Brother Brook before opening the Devil Fruit chests," she murmured, though her voice carried both restraint and greed. She wanted to sail back to Ballon Island this instant, to lock away the fruits and treasure, but she forced herself to stay.
Brook's appetite was monstrous. But so was hers.
Her eyes drifted toward the tallest palace in the valley, still untouched. Her instincts screamed that something even greater lay there. But danger clung to that palace—Rocks himself fought nearby. She bit her lip. Best to leave it to Brook. She would simply remind him later.
On the battlefield, the war roared louder than ever. Screams of nobles split the air. Their pleas, their curses, their despair, all mixed with the clash of blades and the thunder of fists.
Kaido's roar drowned it all.
"Ororororo! Trash like you dares call yourselves gods?! What right do you have to force nations into slaughter for your Heavenly Tribute?!?"
His eyes blazed, red as embers. Memories surged—his parents' bodies, broken in a meaningless war; his childhood conscripted, his hands forced to hold a weapon at eight years old. Every battlefield smelled of death, every charge left nine out of ten comrades dead.
And always, always, it was in the name of Tribute. In the name of the Celestial Dragons.
"This is war! Do you understand?! Do you like war, pigs?!"
He seized a noble in his fist, the man trembling, urine soaking his robes. The Celestial Dragon's lips moved soundlessly, no words coming, only fear.
Kaido's breath steamed from his nostrils, mist curling as his aura erupted. His pupils shrank, his vision tunneled on the trembling figure in his grasp.
And then it came—like thunder ripping across the battlefield.
The surge of will.
The mark of a king.
Conqueror's Haki exploded from Kaido's body, shaking the Valley of the Gods to its foundations.
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