"How... how could this happen?"
Donquixote Doflamingo stared blankly at the towering ice pillars before him.
To outsiders, it seemed only his attack had been frozen.
But to him, what had been sealed within Ragnar's icy retaliation was far more than just his prideful Sixteen Holy Bullets – God Thread (十六聖殺・神誅殺, Jūroku Seisatsu: Kamikorosu).
It was his very ambition to be king—shattered and entombed.
Puff.
Just as Doflamingo stood frozen in thought, the frost-encrusted armor encasing Ragnar and his seat quietly dissolved into the air. Slowly, he raised one finger.
With an effortless tap on the nearest ice pillar—
Crack.
The sixteen frozen pillars shattered. The embedded Haki-hardened threads, once symbols of Doflamingo's might, splintered into glinting fragments.
A cold wind swept through.
The fragments scattered like ash—
Not just his technique, but his will had crumbled.
The once towering figure of Doflamingo faltered. His legs, once rooted in ambition, gave way. The Heavenly Demon collapsed.
Along with the sixteen sacred bullets,
his heart to be king turned to dust.
---
"The second one," Yamato thought silently.
The last person who declared himself future Pirate King before Ragnar was Portgas D. Ace—now imprisoned, detoxing from his obsession with that dream.
Doflamingo, the second, had it even worse.
He didn't even need to be struck by Thunder Bagua, didn't need prison—
His ambition was instantly cured.
"Ragnar, maybe you overdid it this time," Yamato whispered.
"That guy's so broken he might as well be dead. Even if he surrendered now, there's no value in keeping him as a subordinate."
Ragnar replied calmly:
"This is only temporary."
"Never underestimate someone with the heart of a king, especially Joker.
Born a Celestial Dragon, stripped of his divine birthright, yet he clawed his way back to the top using his own means, building the underworld's strongest web and becoming a fearsome Shichibukai."
"If you were in his place, Yamato—would you stay down?"
Yamato shook her head after a moment's pause.
"No. I wouldn't. And neither would he."
Because true kings don't stay broken.
Heroes may lose and fall into despair—like Gekko Moria, crushed by Kaido, never recovering.
But kings—
Kings rise. Even from ashes.
"Dover!"
"Young Master!"
"Are you okay?!"
Trebol and the rest of the Donquixote Family finally broke their paralysis, rushing forward—
Only to see the shell of a man who once sought the throne of the seas.
Seeing the once arrogant and unruly Donquixote Doflamingo now pale and dispirited, those around him were filled with shock, anger, panic, and fear.
Shock, because they never imagined the battle would end this way.
Anger, because they watched their king beaten and humbled.
Panic, because they were lost, unsure of what would come next.
Fear, because they didn't know how Ragnar would deal with them.
"Get out of the way."
But just as his subordinates crowded around him with concern, Doflamingo—who had seemed broken and drained a moment ago—suddenly lifted his head.
His face was bruised, distorted by pain and humiliation, but his eyes beneath those iconic sunglasses still held the fire of defiance.
"Give me the thing."
With a growl, he waved his executives back. Trebol hesitated but finally handed him a long, sealed box.
Then, the man once known as the Heavenly Yaksha straightened his ruined back, swallowed his pride, and walked toward Ragnar—his steps heavy, his posture respectful.
Bending low, Doflamingo held the box high in both hands and knelt down.
"You win, True Lord," he declared.
"From now on, you're the king... and I am the subject. But you'd better remember what you said—because I only serve kings, and I only bow to victors."
"If the day ever comes that you fall... then the king ceases to be king, and the subject may no longer remain a subject."
He raised his head, his gaze meeting Ragnar's. No trace of despair. No groveling. Only that familiar, fierce smirk that once ruled the underworld.
"But until that day," he continued, "I, Donquixote Doflamingo, will be your most loyal subordinate and most capable servant."
"From now on, everything that belongs to the Donquixote Family belongs to you..."
"...including this."
With that, he lowered his gaze and offered the box fully.
Even in surrender, Doflamingo retained the posture of a king. It may have been a tribute, a sign of defeat—
but to all watching, he was still regal.
Still the Shichibukai feared across the seas.
Still the Joker who bowed to no one.
Still the dark emperor of the underworld.
Still—Donquixote Doflamingo.
Visit patreon.com/ShiroTL for more chapters.