Kizaru led the remaining Marines away, disappearing beyond the sea's horizon.
Just then, two figures rushed back from the distant battlefield and landed at Ronan's side—Teresa and Alicia.
With her left hand, Alicia dragged a body along as if hauling a dead dog.
It was Garling, the commander of the God Knights.
Garling no longer had even a trace of his earlier authority or icy arrogance. His ornate outfit was torn to rags, smeared with dust and blood. The scar on his face looked even more vicious now. His eyes were shut, his breathing faint—clearly he'd been gravely wounded by Teresa and Alicia working together, and had passed out cold.
Alicia walked up to Ronan and, as casually as tossing trash, threw Garling onto the blood-soaked ground with a heavy thud.
"So that's Garling-sama…?"
"How could even he…"
"It's over… it's all over…"
Off in the distance, the Celestial Dragons who'd collapsed on the ground saw Garling tossed down like that—and the last shred of hope inside them snapped. There was no one left who could save them anymore.
Ronan lowered his head and looked at the unconscious Garling without a hint of concern. He remembered that, in the original story, members of the God Knights carried some kind of "undying contract" carved into them by Imu. Trying to kill him outright would probably be extremely difficult—and might even force Imu to show themself.
Ronan had no intention of facing Imu right now. At the very least, until he found a way to truly deal with that kind of existence, he wasn't going to provoke it. Of course, after this war, whether Imu would make a move or not… Ronan didn't particularly care. The strength Teresa and the others had shown today meant the World Government likely wouldn't dare act rashly anymore.
But just because he couldn't kill them… didn't mean he couldn't punish them.
Didn't mean he couldn't make them pay.
Ronan slowly lifted his head and looked around—at the surviving soldiers of the kingdom, and at the civilians stepping out of hiding, faces streaked with tears and hatred.
Everyone from Lulusia who was still alive in the harbor focused their eyes on their young king.
Ronan took a deep breath. He would use the most direct method to collect the debt owed for the citizens who had died today—and at the same time, declare to the whole world the will of Lulusia.
"World nobles… descendants of gods?"
Ronan's tone dripped with mockery. He raised a hand, pointed at the Celestial Dragons sprawled on the ground, and delivered his judgment:
"I, Ronan, in the name of the King of Lulusia…"
"I sentence every Celestial Dragon present… to death."
A brief, stunned silence—
Then it exploded.
The remaining Lulusia soldiers and the civilians who had survived the catastrophe first stared in disbelief—then a roar of cheers, laced with boundless joy, swept the entire harbor.
"Banzai for Ronan Heika! Banzai for Lulusia!"
Everyone shouted, praising their king.
"Kill them! Avenge the dead! Blood must be repaid with blood!"
As they turned toward the Celestial Dragons, every face was hard with fury.
In that moment, soldiers and civilians alike clung to each other and wept. Even the severely wounded lying on the ground struggled to lift their heads, squeezing out faint voices of agreement with the last of their strength.
At last, they had found an outlet.
Ronan's declaration ripped apart the terrifying shadow the World Government had hung over their heads.
He raised his hand again, pointing at the Celestial Dragons as they broke down completely.
The signal to begin the execution.
Tesoro watched it all, his face already drenched in tears.
Executing Celestial Dragons.
Those words ignited the hatred that had never once gone out in the deepest part of his soul.
Stella—his former lover—had been taken from him because of these trash who called themselves "gods." Because of their lawless cruelty, he had lost the most precious light in his life. He had stopped being a man… and become a monster driven by hatred and greed for money.
He clawed his way upward, thirsting for wealth and power, building a city of gold—everything, everything—wasn't it all for revenge against those high above?
Wasn't it all for the day he could see them crawling on the ground, paying for their sins with his own eyes?
And now…
That chance was right in front of him—personally pronounced by the king he served.
"Heh… hehahaha… hahahahaha!"
A low laugh spilled from Tesoro, growing louder and louder until it became unrestrained, hysterical laughter.
"Your retribution is here! Today is the end of you so-called 'gods'!!"
In the crowd, Kuro was shaking with excitement too—along with the raw relief of surviving.
At the beginning, he'd thought his gamble had failed completely, that he would be buried with this mad kingdom in the most humiliating way possible.
But after witnessing the terrifying strength Teresa, Beth, and Alicia displayed in battle—after seeing Enel trading blows with Kizaru—especially after seeing Ronan, the king of this country, kill a Marine vice admiral…
Kuro finally realized something.
Even his earlier "high estimate" had been laughably too small.
The hidden foundation of Lulusia Kingdom ran far deeper than he'd ever imagined.
Forcing back a Marine admiral. Killing Marine vice admirals. Crushing the God Knights. Capturing Celestial Dragons…
These were achievements powerful enough to shake the entire world's balance.
"I bet right… This time, I really bet right…"
Kuro's blood-loss-pale face flushed faintly red with excitement.
After Ronan gave the order, soldiers stripped materials on the spot—ripping out more than a dozen thick wooden stakes from ruined buildings—and drove them deep into the harbor's bloodstained ground, like a line of crosses waiting for their condemned.
Under countless gazes—some terrified, some satisfied, some numb—the nineteen Celestial Dragons were roughly bound to the stakes. Their bubble helmets had already shattered, exposing faces twisted out of shape.
They struggled, they screamed, they cursed. In that instant, they were no longer lofty "gods."
They were prisoners about to be executed.
Ronan walked up slowly to the Celestial Dragons tied to the stakes, his gaze calmly sweeping across every despairing face.
He gave no stirring speech.
He made no final proclamation.
In a clear, icy voice, he issued the last command to the clone soldiers beside him:
"Execute."
The order was short—like a scythe falling.
The clone soldiers, already prepared, lifted their spears without expression and drove them precisely into the Celestial Dragons' hearts.
Thud. Thud. Thud—
Blades punching through flesh, dense and dull, replaced the earlier wailing and curses.
Before many of them even understood what had happened, their lives vanished in an instant—terror still frozen in their eyes.
The whole process was so fast it was suffocating.
Nineteen Celestial Dragon corpses were nailed firmly to the stakes, hanging in Lulusia Kingdom's harbor.
(End of Chapter)
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