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"What a joke! After all the sacrifices in this battle, just when we're about to seize Ayr... how can we just let him go?!"
The veins on Garp's forehead bulged as he bellowed toward the sky, voice aimed at Im, still floating in the air with that ever-unreadable gaze.
Even now, Garp's official rank was only Vice Admiral. Despite his strength rivaling the top of the world, in terms of hierarchical power, he was still beneath the Five Elders.
And Im? The one the Five Elders themselves bowed to without hesitation.
Yet Garp couldn't accept it. Letting Ayr walk away after this disaster? Unthinkable. His voice cracked with fury as he demanded an answer.
"Ayr… that enemy. I believe you have the power to kill him in the future." Im turned slightly, her voice calm and ancient, as if the deaths of three Elders meant nothing.
"We can't allow this!"
Garp clenched his fists. He trusted his power—after all, he once exchanged blows with the Pirate King and Whitebeard. But Ayr wasn't like Roger or even Xebec.
Ayr had gone head-to-head with four Elders wielding different Supreme Grade weapons, awakened Devil Fruits, and centuries of political and martial manipulation—and killed three.
Confidence was one thing. Delusion was another.
"This guy... even four Five Elders couldn't stop him," Zephyr muttered, his fists trembling. "How are we supposed to handle a monster like that at sea?"
"There are many pirates worth watching out for. But Ayr… he's different," Kong said with gravity. "Letting him go now will only bring destruction later."
None of them could fathom Im's logic.
Had she let him go out of interest?
This was a man who had just defeated some of the world's most powerful figures, destroyed sections of Mariejois, and proven he could threaten the status quo.
By all reason, Im should've been furious.
"Ayr is dangerous, yes," Im said softly, as if addressing a passing breeze. "But catastrophe? Not alone."
She looked at Garp and the rest with timeless eyes.
"Pirates are your Marine concern. I will not interfere… unless necessary. But I believe you can overcome this man."
Only if she felt deeply threatened would she intervene. And though Ayr had revealed monstrous strength, she could sense the truth—that his power was not stable. His aura was wild, like an incomplete Sage or someone still bound by temporary external boosts.
In that brief clash, she understood it.
His foundation hadn't fully matured. His current power was impressive, but it came at a price—and could fade.
Still… Ayr piqued her curiosity.
She had ruled for over eight hundred years. Conspiracies, wars, rebellions, even the Void Century—she had seen it all.
But Ayr? Ayr was new. Unscripted. Wild. A variable she didn't control.
And Im, in her eternity of boredom, found that refreshing.
Killing him now would be wasteful.
As for the death of the Five Elders?
So what?
They were replaceable.
She vanished after delivering her decree, leaving Garp, Zephyr, Kong, and the rest rooted in place, smoldering with impotent fury.
Zephyr turned to Kong, voice cold. "What now? Do we still try to kill him?"
It was tempting. With Im gone, they could rush Ayr before he escaped.
But Im's will had been clear. Disobeying someone above even the Five Elders was dangerous.
Kong's jaw clenched, and he finally growled, "Let him… go."
The words were bitter poison. He, too, had wanted to end Ayr, but Im's word was law.
"Damn it!" Garp slammed his fist into the ground, splitting the already-ruined stone. "We had a real chance today…"
But no one could act. Im's orders shackled even the most righteous.
"Maybe… we believe in the Lord's words. Maybe next time…" Kong said hollowly.
Even he didn't buy it.
But without options, belief was all they had.
Zephyr sat on the rubble, eyes dull. "To think Ayr invaded the Holy Land… and left like this. What a damn joke."
From behind, a deep voice cut through the air.
"Ayr… I'll defeat him one day." It was Akainu, magma-coated fists still simmering.
"A monster, yes. But with enough talent, we can reach that level too," Aokiji added calmly.
Garp and the others glanced at him, tempted to shoot down his optimism.
But they held back.
Aokiji had potential. He was already rated Marine Three-Star at a young age—something even Garp hadn't achieved until later.
Still... Ayr was on a different plane. Like someone who combined the raw might of Whitebeard, the combat instinct of Roger, and the devilish will of Xebec.
Right now, none of them could touch him.
High in the air, Ayr stood silently, eyes following Im's fading silhouette.
He then looked to the distant battlefield—where Whitebeard, though battered, was still standing.
"Time to go, Edward."
Ayr's expression was calm, but inwardly, he felt the truth—his experience card, the one temporarily amplifying his power, had expired.
He didn't know if Im sensed it, or if she was bluffing.
But a retreat was logical.
He floated to Whitebeard's side, still smiling.
"Gu la la la… you're more impressive than I imagined," Whitebeard said, walking over with that heavy New World swagger.
Their battle against the scarred elder had ended when Im appeared. Once Im left, that strange old man hadn't made another move.
"No time for chatter. Let's leave."
Ayr moved beside Whitebeard, and the two vanished toward the horizon.
No one followed.
Not because they didn't want to—but because they couldn't.
"The knot… is it over?" someone muttered bitterly.
"We lost too much."
"What the hell was that Im thinking? Letting Ayr go?"
Before anyone could answer, a searing slash of sword energy ripped through the speaker, splitting him in two.
The battlefield was still hungry for blood—even in the silence that followed the war's end.
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