Iron Fist Garp and his men had just pulled Admiral Hoss from the sea when they noticed the flying fleet vanish on the horizon, leaving only shadows in the distance.
Hoss pressed a hand to his head, pale-faced. The lingering pain of Brook's soul-rending slash gnawed at his mind. Even as a Mythical Zoan, his body trembled from the sensation of his very soul being torn apart. Thankfully, the Double-Winged Unicorn Holy Horse possessed resistance against spiritual damage. With time, perhaps half a day, his body and spirit would recover.
"Braver… Garp… Zephyr… choose a warship that can still sail and head for the Valley of the Gods. Support Coss Davo and the others. Leave me here—I'll recover soon enough."
His words were steady, though his voice carried the weight of exhaustion. He knew he couldn't rejoin the battle just yet.
"Yes, sir!"
Braver and Garp didn't waste a second. They abandoned most of the wounded still flailing in the water, choosing instead a warship that hadn't been reduced to wreckage. The vessel groaned as they forced it forward, but compared to the swift flying fleet of the Hell Pirates, the navy would inevitably arrive far too late.
Meanwhile, Brook's flying fleet swelled. Several affiliated pirate ships had joined in, their flags whipping in the wind. Shiki the Golden Lion had even gathered more allies, adding weight to their assault on the Valley.
"Captain Brook! Look! I caught myself a vice admiral!"
Byrnndi grinned triumphantly, shoving a battered navy officer forward in chains. His smile was broken by missing teeth—knocked out during the struggle—but his pride remained intact.
"In order to catch him alive, I lost a few teeth, but soon I'll have enough merit to trade for that Devil Fruit!"
"Yohoho! Very good, World. I'll make sure your contribution is recognized."
Brook's laugh echoed through the air. Worlds enthusiasm pleased him—especially compared to lazy captains like Woonan, who could never be counted on. World's brother, Byojack, was already under Brook's control through the Seven-Star Demon Sword. Having World himself so loyal was another reassuring layer of dominance.
"Hahaha! Finally, I get to see the Celestial Dragons!"
Shiki's wild laughter thundered from the prow of his ship. His words sent shockwaves of excitement among the younger pirates—Kaido the Beast, Kozuki Oden, Fisher Tiger. Their eyes burned with hunger, not for treasure but for fate itself.
To kill a Celestial Dragon—that was the rumored trigger, the trial by fire that could awaken Conqueror's Haki. Today might be the turning point of their lives.
The four fallen angels of the Lunaria tribe tightened their grips on their weapons. Their chance at vengeance had finally come. It wasn't the Holy Land itself, but even the Valley of the Gods was enough. If they could kill even one Celestial Dragon, their hatred would taste sweeter.
Redfield's fists clenched silently. One Celestial Dragon's blood had not been enough to satisfy his fury. His family's torment demanded rivers more.
"Yohoho! Then let's make today unforgettable!"
Brook's laughter rang once more, but behind it lay careful thought. Once the fighting in the Valley began, sniper Hiruba's task would shift—his eyes would no longer be on the battlefield but on the skies, to watch for Marijoa's greatest weapon.
The "national treasure" of the Celestial Dragons.
Legends whispered it was Uranus—the ancient sky weapon. One blast could level an island. Brook had studied the fate of the Kingdom of Lulusia, reduced to nothing in an instant by a beam of heavenly light. If Uranus appeared over the Valley, he would abandon the field at once.
If the World Government dared use it against him later, then he would counter with Pluto. He knew where Wano kept the battleship, and if necessary, he would rip it free from the earth and set it against Uranus.
If the world must enter a nuclear winter of ancient weapons, so be it.
Even Joyboy, who once held both Pluto and Poseidon, had fallen to the twenty kings eight hundred years ago. But if all three were gathered—Pluto, Poseidon, Uranus—then even the gods would tremble.
The pirates roared as one, whipped into frenzy. Gold! Jewels! Weapons! According to rumor, the Valley of the Gods was richer than even Sabaody Archipelago. If they could sack it, their wealth would last generations.
The fleet surged ahead.
Far away, the Valley burned.
Blood drenched the land where navy and pirate forces clashed without retreat.
The warrior monk Scorpion Dragon staggered, one arm hanging useless. His strength waned, but he still fought. A Divine Knight had already been torn in half by Rocks himself. The other Divine Knight now battled alongside Coss Davo, barely managing to hold the line.
The morale of Rocks' men soared. To see their captain rip apart one of the Celestial Dragons' guardians—it was as if victory itself had appeared before their eyes.
Meanwhile, the navy faltered. With Hoss and his fleet delayed, the defenders of the Valley had no reinforcements. Their blood stained the white stones.
The Celestial Dragons themselves had not expected this. They knew Rocks was powerful, but not so powerful that even the combined might of two admirals could fall before him. His ferocity defied belief.
"Damn the D clan!"
One middle-aged Celestial Dragon spat, his jeweled mask quivering. "I warned the council! I told them never to allow the blood of D to remain! Every era, one of them rises against us! We should have wiped them out to the root!"
His voice shook with fear and rage. Rocks D. Xebec had stormed not just their world, but their very home.
"Enough! Pack your treasures! Retreat to Marijoa!"
An older Celestial Dragon whispered urgently, beads of sweat running down his brow. He saw what others refused to admit—God Valley might fall today.
"Retreat? We are gods! How dare you even suggest it!"
A younger Celestial Dragon roared, face flushed red with indignation. "We have ruled for centuries, worshipped by all, feared by all! Do you expect us to flee before pirates?"
But fear cut through their arrogance. Their words faltered as the sounds of battle drew closer.
"Where is Admiral Kukulkan? Why has he not arrived?!"
Another Celestial Dragon screamed in frustration, red-eyed. "Saint Rothschild is dead, Brook grows unchecked, and now Rocks is at our door! These admirals are useless! The navy is useless!"
They cursed their protectors, blaming the slowness of reinforcements, the lack of intelligence, the failure to anticipate two overlords uniting.
But curses would not stop Rocks' advance.
The Valley of the Gods, once a symbol of absolute power and untouchable wealth, now trembled on the edge of collapse.
-----------
At the edge of the God Valley sea, a pirate ship broke through the mist, its ram supported by two merfolk pushing against the current. On its flag, the skull was drawn with an odd flourish—bold, upturned nose hairs that marked it unmistakably.
It was the Oro Jackson. The Roger Pirates had arrived.
"Roger!!! We can't dive into that battlefield!"
Gaban's voice cracked, his scalp prickling as his eyes burned with panic. Spencer, standing beside him, looked equally pale. The Valley of the Gods was a slaughterhouse where every major power in the world had gathered—the Celestial Dragons, the Navy, the World Government, and not one, but two overlord pirate crews.
It was not a battlefield. It was a meat grinder.
With only twenty members aboard, their crew would be crushed the moment they entered. To jump into this hell was madness.
"We have no reason to fight there! We'll only throw our lives away!" Spencer pleaded.
But Roger's gaze was fixed, his expression unusually serious. "The voice in my heart… it's guiding me there."
For once, he didn't laugh. He knew exactly how dangerous this battlefield was. Even he, Gol D. Roger, could not guarantee survival against so many monsters gathered in one place. Yet something called to him.
Rayleigh remained silent. Logic told him to turn back, to protect his brothers from certain death. But his heart trusted Roger's instinct. If their captain said they would survive, then he would believe it. Still, even he struggled to imagine how the Roger Pirates could cross this sea of fire and walk out alive.
"Captain Roger! Navy battleship on the horizon!"
Sniper Peterm's voice cut across the deck. He stood at the top of the mast, binoculars pressed to his face.
"Oh no… it's them!" His hands shook. "Bloody Hand Braver… Iron Fist Garp… and Black Arm Zephyr!"
The crew froze. These were no ordinary enemies—they were the fangs of the Navy itself.
The Roger Pirates had already clashed with Garp before, barely escaping with their lives. Now, to face him again alongside Braver and Zephyr was almost certain death.
"Damn it! Even if we've grown stronger, we can't trade blows with those three…" Spencer muttered, teeth gritted. He, like every pirate, knew the truth: the Navy was endless, always replenishing. But pirates were family. Every death mattered. To lose even one crewmate was a wound that never healed.
"Avoid them!" Roger barked.
He had no intention of wasting strength against the Navy. His goal lay in the Valley itself, in that mysterious voice pulling him forward. The Oro Jackson tilted as the sails shifted, steering wide of the battleship.
From afar, Braver narrowed his eyes. "Roger…" he muttered.
But their orders were clear: reinforce the Valley of the Gods, protect the Celestial Dragons. They had no time to waste chasing Roger's crew. The two ships passed each other like shadows, each bound for their own fated clash.
---
In the Valley of the Gods, chaos reigned.
Rocks D. Xebec stood like a god of darkness, black hair whipping wildly, an aura of shadow clinging to him so dense it stained the ground itself. His grin was feral, his eyes bloodshot with hunger.
"Useless! Coss Davo—your Horned Demon power will be mine!"
He raised his hand, pulling a vortex of darkness into his palm. The air warped.
Coss Davo flared his wings, his goat horns glowing with unholy light. He hurled a black shockwave of demonic power at Rocks, but the vortex devoured it whole.
"You… you can absorb Devil Fruit powers?" Davo's voice trembled. If Rocks truly possessed the ability to strip and recycle fruits like Brook, then this age was doomed. Two pirate overlords who could plunder abilities—no power on the seas could balance that threat.
"Hahaha! You'll find out when you fall into my hands!" Rocks howled, swinging the Blade of Xebec. Dark sword energy erupted, cleaving the sky as he lunged.
Davo darted higher, but Rocks shifted his fury to the Divine Knight nearby. He remembered too well how Rocks had ripped one of their brothers in half earlier. Fear churned in his chest, but retreat was not an option. Behind him stood the Celestial Dragons, the masters he had sworn to protect since birth.
He injected a vial of stimulant into his veins. His muscles swelled, veins bulged, and Armament Haki flooded his body until it gleamed like iron. He roared and charged, unleashing a suicidal attack.
Seeing this, Coss Davo steeled himself. If this Divine Knight fell too, then he would be forced to flee in disgrace—or die. He could not allow either. Better to fight together, to buy time for reinforcements, even if it cost their lives.
"Hahaha! That's it! Struggle harder! The more desperate you are, the more fun it is to break you!"
Rocks' laugh rolled like thunder. He welcomed their fury—it would only hasten their deaths.
But then, another roar shook the battlefield.
The Titan Ape slammed into the dirt, crushed beneath a golden palm. The Monkey King Xingzhe, once a towering giant ape, lay battered and broken, his blood pooling into the cracked ground.
Towering above him stood a golden colossus—the Great Buddha of Sengoku. His body radiated golden light, streaked with blood-red lightning.
"Justice… will reign supreme!!!" Sengoku bellowed, his voice carrying over the battlefield.
At that moment, something awakened in him. The golden light around his fists shimmered with the telltale crackle of advanced Conqueror's Haki, entangling with his Armament. His power spiked. His strikes now shook not just bodies, but spirits.
The golden Buddha roared again, glaring down at the injured Monkey King. The earth quaked beneath his steps.
The half-crippled Scorpion Dragon monk limped forward, rallying beside Wizz. They struck together, one last stand against the golden juggernaut.
"Yes! That's it! Crush them! Kill every filthy pirate!"
In the monitoring room, Celestial Dragons screamed with excitement, their jeweled masks rattling as they cheered like gamblers at an arena.
"Who is that? That golden Buddha? Promote him! Promote him now!"
A steward bowed. "That is Vice Admiral Sengoku of the Navy Headquarters."
The Celestial Dragons' eyes glowed. "Then make him a candidate for admiral! Make him an admiral, a Fleet Admiral if we must! This one has promise—more than all the useless dogs who've failed us today!"
Their shrill voices echoed even as blood soaked the Valley outside.
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