Marineford — Aftermath of the Divine Strike
As the energy storm gradually subsided, Marineford fell into a silence as heavy as death itself.
Marines stood frozen among the ruins, their weapons long since dropped to the ground without them noticing.
Then, a faint click echoed through the plaza as Gern Reginald Sigmar's Black Blade Hachiraku met the cracked earth.
At the center of the battlefield, a torrent of ice and fire had torn through the plaza, splitting reality itself into two extreme hells.
On the left: a frigid inferno of ice.
The towering walls of the Marineford headquarters froze solid under the sweep of the azure shockwave, only to be shredded into clouds of crystal dust by the high-frequency vibrations, turning the air into a swirling blizzard.
On the right: molten scorched earth.
The execution platform instantly vaporized under the searing orange-red tremor patterns, the bedrock beneath liquefying into rivers of glowing magma. Ionized smoke and a metallic stench filled the air, and even iron gun emplacements warped and collapsed into useless scrap under the extreme heat.
And there, in the midst of these twin cataclysms, lay Fegalandu Garling Saint.
As the dust began to settle, Marineford's central plaza fell into an eerie stillness.
A hundred thousand Marines held their breath, eyes fixed on the wreckage, as if the very rhythm of their hearts had frozen.
Thunk… Someone swallowed nervously, the sound sharp and almost obscene in the silence.
High above, Steelbone Sora's teacup had shattered in his hand, the scalding liquid soaking his trousers—but he didn't even notice. Only his pupils flickered, lips pressed into a thin, taut line.
"This… this level of power… this is already in the realm of 'Awakened Devil Fruit,' isn't it?" Steelbone Sora's voice was hoarse, the bronze of his muscles straining so hard the veins popped.
"It's… a literal embodiment of catastrophe."
At that moment, his private Den Den Mushi buzzed insistently.
Nearby, Sengoku adjusted his slipping glasses, eyes deep and calculating behind the lenses. "It's not just the reach…" He drew a slow breath. "Even I wouldn't dare take that strike head-on.If Fegalandu Garling Saint didn't have near-immortality… the moment that blade touched him… he would have been finished."
"Gern…" Zephyr's brow furrowed beneath his shades. "Decades have passed… and you've gone from a rookie Marine at the branch level to… Admiral-level power!!!"
"That damn kid… secretly developing techniques like this." Even Garp didn't laugh this time, crossing his arms and staring gravely. "If he'd had this strength back when he fought Roger… he wouldn't have ended up thrown into the sea. Damn kid… hah!"
At the plaza's center, Gern slowly sheathed Hachiraku, the purple-black lightning fading from the blade, leaving the steel calm once more.
He breathed heavily, sweat beading on his forehead, yet the fire of battle in his eyes remained unquenchable.
"So even like this, one strike can't kill him? Looks like the immortality granted by Imu comes with a deadly fail-safe…"
Gern's gaze fixed on the ruins. Through Observation Haki, he sensed that Garling Saint's aura, though weakened, had not vanished.
From the depths of the rubble came a faint rustling.
Cough… cough… Garling Saint struggled free from the debris, his golden hair nearly singed away, leaving a bloodied, dust-caked scalp. His chest bore a horrifying wound; flesh peeled back, edges still smoldering with purple-black energy remnants.
He staggered to his feet. His rapier? Gone without a trace.
"Gern…" His voice was hoarse, disbelief shining in his eyes. "You… you Marines… how… how…"
"How what?" Gern's lips curved into a cold sneer as he raised Hachiraku again."You claimed the Knights of God were 'immortal,' didn't you?"
Garling Saint's face darkened. He glanced at the wound on his chest. Slowly, agonizingly, it began to heal—but under Gern's suppressive Haki, it barely moved at all.
"So… even your regeneration isn't limitless," Gern said, stepping forward. Each step bore the oppressive weight of his presence."Or perhaps… it's Haki, perfectly countering your power?"
The knight's pupils narrowed slightly, but pride quickly resurfaced. "You think this is enough to beat me? Laughable!"
"Is that so?" In the next instant, Gern vanished and reappeared before him, Hachiraku aimed straight at his throat. "Then let's put that to the test!"
"You…"
"What?" Gern wasted no courtesy, a swift upward slash cutting through Garling Saint's arm.
"Ah!!" He screamed in agony, staring at his severed limb. His face contorted further, rage and disbelief mixing into a feral snarl.
"This isn't over! The World Government… will not let you get away with this!"
"I'll be waiting," Gern said, sheathing Hachiraku with a cold smile. "Next time, don't show off. Bring more friends."
With another strike, Garling Saint's remaining left arm was severed.
"You… aaahhh!!"
From the once-proud Knight of God to a broken, baying dog—this fall was witnessed by all.
"Stop screaming!" Just as Gern's blade descended toward Garling Saint's head, an indescribable oppressive force swept through the plaza.
Gern's pupils contracted sharply, his body instinctively recoiling hundreds of meters. Hachiraku crossed before him; every hair on his body stood on end, alertness peaking.
"This… feeling…" His Observation Haki screamed warnings, cold sweat beading his brow. "More dangerous than facing Roger himself!"
Meanwhile, Garling Saint's eyes, once filled with despair, widened in sheer terror.
He struggled to his remaining legs, staggering toward Gern. "No! I won't go back! This humiliation… I, Fegalandu Garling Saint, will never…"
His words were cut off. White smoke began to rise from his body; his skin melted like snow under the sun.
"This…" Gern frowned, lowering Hachiraku slightly, though his vigilance remained unbroken.
Garling Saint's body fragmented as he ran, his face twisted, voice trembling with fear and resentment.
"Gern! I… will never forget today!"
Before he could finish, his body dissolved completely into the air, leaving only a massive, faintly glowing magical sigil etched into the plaza floor.
Marineford fell into stunned silence. The sudden, inexplicable event left everyone speechless.
"He… disappeared…" Lipo's rabbit ears twitched as her eyes widened. "Where did that annoying guy go?"
Tyzolo's gaze flickered. "Looks like some kind of teleportation…"
Gern turned sharply, eyes narrowing at the high platform above.
Steelbone Sora mirrored his intensity, their eyes locking. Then the Den Den Mushi in Sora's palm spoke, the voice cold and low—clearly the Five Elders.
"The World Government has confirmed: Gern Reginald Sigmar and his aide, Marineford Second Lieutenant Lipo Hope, are innocent."
The announcement thundered across the silent plaza.
"The Celestial Dragons Roswald Father and Son, for undermining the Marine and World Government relationship, will face public execution at Mariejois," the voice continued.
"Therefore… this matter ends here, Steelbone Sora."
The Den Den Mushi fell silent. Eyes closed, no further sound, leaving only the stunned onlookers to process what had just transpired.