"Young Master!"
"Dover!"
Outside the door, Trebol and the others stood frozen, their hearts in their throats.
But none dared to move.
Even as they watched their king held at knifepoint, they could only tremble at the threshold, paralyzed, not daring to cross it.
"True Lord, it seems that I, Don Quixote Doflamingo, must die here today?"
Silence lingered.
Don Quixote Doflamingo slowly lowered his right hand, his face hollow and drained of resistance.
The gap was too vast.
It wasn't a matter of incompetence, nor a lack of will to fight.
But he knew—one step, and it would be his blood on the floor.
In the hall, there were only a few others besides Ragnar:
Yamato.
Flame Disaster King.
Drought Disaster Jack.
But the problem was—among these three, even the weakest could match him in a direct fight. The other two could kill him without much effort.
In front of such a lineup, he didn't even have the ability to approach Ragnar.
And that—was the most despairing part.
"Joker, you've always been a smart man."
"But whether you walk out of this hall alive today... depends on whether you can stay smart."
Ragnar leaned back lazily on his chair, like an emperor reigning over heaven and earth, eyes fixed on Doflamingo, who knelt at his feet.
"You want me to submit to you?"
A flicker of arrogance crossed Doflamingo's face.
He, too, was a king.
He might not be Ragnar's equal—but surrender? That wasn't in his blood.
Especially because he had one more identity.
A Celestial Dragon.
Even with his wings clipped, he was still one of the World Nobles.
"Why not?"
"You killed your father with your own hands to regain your privilege—then carried his head to Mary Geoise and knelt to beg for forgiveness."
"You could kneel to them... why not kneel to me?"
"You could beg them... why not please me?"
Ragnar spread his arms, as if stating something utterly natural.
"…"
Doflamingo's expression twisted—rage, hesitation, fear flickering through his eyes in rapid succession.
Then, something seemed to click.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
"Ragnar… what exactly are you planning?"
His voice was hoarse, dry.
"Joker—did you just call him Ragnar?"
Before Ragnar could respond, King's voice rang out.
A cold flash of steel followed.
His blade curved past Doflamingo's neck and pierced through both legs—nailing him to the floor.
"Ghh!"
Doflamingo grunted in pain, his body swaying.
"True... Lord… what do you want?"
Feeling the monstrous killing intent behind him, he gasped and finally yielded.
"Dragon slaying."
Ragnar rested his chin in his hand, casually uttering two words.
But they carried crushing pressure.
The air in the hall instantly turned heavy.
"Ragnar, you're too arrogant."
"Do you even understand what you're saying?"
Doflamingo was visibly shaken.
As a Celestial Dragon, he knew what "dragon slaying" meant.
But soon—he noticed something else.
None of the people in the hall had reacted with surprise.
Not because they already knew.
But because it was expected.
Inevitable.
"Joker," Ragnar said calmly, "No one stands in heaven from the start—not you, not me, not even the so-called gods."
"But that empty throne won't remain empty much longer."
"From now on… I will stand in heaven."
He raised a finger, dragging it gently across the armrest.
"As for you..."
"You can either go to hell first—and pave the way for your old brethren."
"Or rise to heaven—and clear the path for me."
"The choice is yours."
"But know this—"
"I need your strength, Joker."
"Stop wasting your talent."
"Lend your abilities to me."
He said no more.
Resting his chin on one hand, he gazed at Don Quixote Doflamingo—whose face was now turning green and purple—with a look of idle amusement.
He didn't seem concerned in the slightest that the Heavenly Yaksha before him might refuse.
"What if you fail?"
After a long silence, Doflamingo finally spoke.
"I won't fail."
"Only the navy and pirates know failure. I do not."
"Before me, there will be no rivals."
Ragnar shook his head slowly, and with each word, his aura—arrogant, domineering, and absolute—rolled out like crashing waves.
The very air within the hall rippled with concentric shockwaves, visible to the naked eye, as if space itself was forced to bend beneath his will.
Even the atmosphere... surrendered.
Snap.
Alongside Yamato, both the Flame Disaster King and the Drought Jack dropped to one knee before Ragnar.
Doflamingo's eyes widened at the sight.
He looked around in disbelief—but saw no hesitation, no fear, no flicker of doubt in King and Jack's expressions.
Only reverence.
Such courage. Such faith.
Even he, a king in his own right… felt deeply shaken.
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