"You foolish Marines! I warned you long ago—the Marines are completely unreliable!" The man with the massive white sword strapped to his back sneered, his face a mask of disdain.
The intelligence officer hesitated, wanting to argue, but with Revolutionary Army soldiers swarming everywhere, confronting this man would be fatal. Even a moment of defiance could mean instant death.
"I've warned you, yet you refused to listen. Don't blame me! My life is my priority!" The officer shouted, then fled.
He had only taken two steps when a blinding white light appeared. A swift slash cut through the air, instantly bisecting the officer.
A scream tore through the corridors, accompanied by a spray of blood, horrifying in its intensity.
The man holding the sword remained expressionless, unshaken.
"Hmph, accept the baptism of my Sword of Justice. To fall by my blade is a blessing you earned in your life!" The sword-wielding figure declared coldly.
Without another glance, he advanced into the depths of the World Headquarters.
His long hair flowed as the Sword Saint touched the hilt of the blade on his back—the Holy Sword, a weapon designed to slay evil and absorb the strength of the dead. Its craftsmanship surpassed even the first-generation Kitetsu blades, and coupled with centuries of experience and the eternal surgical enhancements from the previous Ope-Ope no Mi user, this three-hundred-year-old warrior was nearly immortal, rivaled only by Imu herself.
He was Imu's personal bodyguard—the most formidable individual in the world besides her.
Thump, thump, thump.
Amidst the storm and chaos, the Sword Saint walked with unyielding purpose.
A squad of Revolutionary Army soldiers noticed him and, recognizing he was not one of their own, charged.
The Sword Saint barely reacted, lips curling in a faint smirk.
"Just a bunch of small fry trying to stop me," he muttered.
Then, a terrifying roar echoed.
A surge of Conqueror's Haki emanated from him, instantaneously spreading in all directions.
The charging soldiers froze mid-step, eyes wide, their bodies paralyzed as the Haki washed over them. Blood began to seep from their orifices as the Sword Saint continued forward, utterly undisturbed.
Even Revolutionary Army Dragon, Sabo, and Ivankov felt the overwhelming presence of the Haki.
"Did you feel that, Sabo?" Ivankov asked, astonished.
"Even you noticed it? Yes… but it lasted only an instant. Can that really be Conqueror's Haki?" Sabo replied, skeptical. He had seen many Haki users, but none could unleash such a rapid, concentrated burst capable of freezing hundreds in an instant.
"This is extraordinary. The technique, its precision… it might even belong to Imu herself," Dragon said gravely, eyes narrowing. Facing this power, even he, once the world's most dangerous criminal, felt a rare sense of caution.
"Let's go. All of us," Dragon commanded, and the Revolutionary Army surged forward again.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
They surrounded the Sword Saint, but he walked calmly, excitement glimmering in his eyes.
"You are worthy to become the departed souls beneath my Holy Sword. Accept its baptism!" he declared, raising the blade high. A blinding light erupted, as radiant as the sun, forcing all observers to shield their eyes.
"Unbelievable… the legendary Imu is truly a master swordsman," Dragon muttered, awe and concern mixing in his tone. He could sense the ancient power radiating from the Holy Sword, a lifespan far beyond human limits.
"That must be Imu, the god of this world!"
"Imu?" The Sword Saint's lips quirked in surprise.
"No, no… you've misunderstood," he laughed, the sound echoing through the battlefield.
Confused glances were cast at him, and his expression turned serious.
"I am not Imu. Her strength surpasses mine by far. I am merely her bodyguard," he clarified, disdain flickering across his features.
Even so, the aura he exuded was enough to command respect and fear. Revolutionary Army Dragon's face darkened; his own mastery of Haki, a defining aspect of his fearsome reputation, paled in comparison.
"Everyone, remain vigilant. Even if he is not Imu, his Haki is stronger than mine," Dragon warned.
The Revolutionary Army stared in disbelief. The Sword Saint's Conqueror's Haki was undeniable—two waves of it had already rendered hundreds unconscious, and even the four army commanders nearby felt its oppressive weight.
The North Army Commander, Crow, launched an assault with a swarm of black crows, momentarily blocking the Sword Saint's vision.
The East Army Commander fled to higher ground, flag glowing, streaks of light radiating from her hand.
Dragon, Sabo, and Ivankov assumed combat stances, while Mori, the West Army Commander, vanished underground. The South Army Commander soared into the sky, raining volley after volley of cannon fire upon the approaching Sword Saint.
Even in the face of overwhelming numbers, the Sword Saint's confidence never wavered. Each step was a testament to centuries of skill, loyalty, and sheer power, a silent promise that no one would hinder his path.
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