Chapter 673

Elbaf, New World

"You...!" Harald’s voice rumbled across the battlefield like distant thunder. The colossal body of Nidhöggr shifted weakly in the shattered snow, the massive dragon’s claws digging deep grooves into the frozen bark of the World Tree as he tried to rise. The ground beneath him groaned.

Broken mountains of ice and splintered wood slid away from his enormous frame as he forced his battered body to move. With a furious snarl, the dragon beat his wings—or tried to. Only one responded. The other lay motionless. Harald’s titanic snout slowly turned.

And his burning eyes fell upon the sight. His left wing. Or rather, what remained of it. Half of the massive limb had been severed cleanly. The cut was so precise it looked almost unreal. The ancient scales of Nidhöggr had been split open like paper, exposing torn muscle and cracked bone beneath. Dark crimson blood streamed from the wound in thick torrents, steaming against the icy air.

Even the regenerative power of his Mythical Zoan struggled to mend the damage. The wound simply refused to close. Because the slash that had carved through his wing had not merely cut flesh—it had torn through Haki. Harald growled, his fangs grinding together as he forced the crippled limb to move again.

Nothing. The massive wing twitched weakly before collapsing uselessly into the snow. For the first time since the battle began more than a day ago, his mythical body was betraying him. His snout shifted slowly. Another deep gash ran across his face.

A brutal, bone-deep wound stretched from the bridge of his snout down toward his jaw, splitting through ancient scales that had once been said to rival the toughness of diamond. Every breath sent waves of pain ripping through his skull. His body was littered with similar scars. Dozens of them. Massive cuts carved across his chest.

Deep punctures where blades had struck again and again. Chunks of his scales had been ripped away entirely, leaving raw crimson flesh exposed to the freezing wind. Even one of Nidhöggr’s great curved horns—symbols of the dragon’s ancient majesty—had been severed.

The broken stump jutted awkwardly from his skull. A humiliating mark. A reminder of the monster standing before him. Slowly, Harald lifted his head. And looked across the battlefield. What had once been a thriving branch of the World Tree now looked like the aftermath of divine punishment.

A colossal section of the ancient branch had been cleaved apart entirely. A wound that stretched for miles. The ancient bark—older than most civilizations—had been sliced open by a single strike of Rosinante’s blade, sending entire settlements tumbling into the abyss below.

Dozens of giant villages that had stood proudly upon the branch for centuries... were now nothing but shattered ruins. Fires burned among the wreckage. The air smelled of blood and smoke. And scattered across the battlefield were bodies. Hundreds of them.

The corpses of giant warriors lay strewn across the frozen ground like fallen trees after a storm. Massive axes still clutched in lifeless hands. Shields split cleanly in half. Armor carved apart by merciless blades. These were warriors of Elbaf. Giants who had rushed into the battlefield believing their presence would help their king defeat the monster threatening their homeland.

They had come roaring with battle cries. With courage. With loyalty. With absolute faith in their king. And they had been cut down. One after another. Like weeds. Harald stared at them. For a long moment. The battlefield fell quiet except for the distant howl of the wind.

Then the dragon snorted coldly. "Useless... fools." There was no sorrow in his voice. No anger. No grief. Only disdain. Only disappointment. These giants... These so-called mighty warriors of Elbaf...had believed they could assist him. Had believed their strength mattered in a battle between monsters.

Instead, they had proven exactly what Harald had long suspected. They were nothing. Their axes had shattered. Their Haki had broken. Their bodies had fallen in piles beneath Rosinante’s merciless blades. They hadn’t even slowed him down. Not even for a moment.

Harald’s burning gaze swept across the corpses of his own kin. And he felt... nothing. No guilt. No regret. No sorrow for the warriors who had died screaming his name. Because in Harald’s mind, their sole purpose was to serve him, and yet they had failed. Failed to prove themselves worthy of serving beneath him.

Failed to justify the pride they carried as the "great warriors of Elbaf." And failure... Was worthless. His claws dug deeper into the frozen bark as he slowly lifted his massive head again, blood dripping steadily from his wounds. Above him— The sky crackled with the lingering storm of Haki.

"Fwoooh..." My breath left my lungs in a slow stream, turning into pale mist against the cold, damp air of Elbaf. The storm above us had quieted for a moment, though the sky still trembled from the echoes of our clash.

Both blades rested firmly in my hands. Steady. Unwavering. The battle had been brutal—hours of relentless combat that had torn the heavens apart and shattered entire branches of the World Tree. But the beast before me... Was never something I doubted I could conquer.

Even now, as blood soaked the snow around us and the giant king struggled to remain standing, I could still feel it. Harald’s belief. His unwavering conviction that he could defeat me. That arrogance. That delusion of divinity. It had long since devoured whatever rationality the giant king once possessed.

My gaze drifted briefly across the battlefield. Hundreds of giants lay scattered across the frozen landscape. Warriors of Elbaf who had rushed forward to aid their king. They had come roaring with battle cries and axes raised high.

And one by one, they had fallen beneath my blades. A hundred of them at least. Maybe more. And yet... Harald showed no remorse. Not a flicker of grief. Not a moment of hesitation. Power had rotted him from the inside out. There was no returning from this path.

Even if the battle had dragged on longer—even if thousands of giants had come instead of hundreds—the result would have been the same. Because throughout the entire fight...

My Observation Haki had been watching the island. Every heartbeat. Every movement.

And one thing had surprised me. Loki. Unlike the other giants rushing blindly into the battlefield, the prince had done the opposite. He had drawn a line. A single giant standing alone across a massive ridge of broken bark. And he was holding it. A one-man defense line. Preventing the warriors of Elbaf from charging into their own graves.

Hundreds of giants already lay unconscious around him—warriors knocked out by the prince’s hammer before they could rush past. From the looks of it, the situation had already turned ugly. The giants had begun shouting at him. Calling him a traitor.

Accusing him of betrayal. Their rage growing with every warrior he knocked aside. They couldn’t understand what he was doing. Couldn’t understand that he was saving their lives. And yet, despite the insults. Despite the hatred being thrown his way. The young prince held the line. Unmoving. Unbreakable. I looked away.

Because whether Loki stopped them or not... It made no difference to me. If more giants came to Harald’s aid—I would cut them down as well. Across the battlefield, Harald moved. The dragon’s colossal body shimmered as the Mythical Zoan transformation finally receded.

The monstrous form of Nidhöggr dissolved into swirling energy as the giant king shifted back into his hybrid state. Even in this form—he was a monster. Nearly a hundred meters tall. A towering titan more than thirty times my height. Scales still covered much of his body, jagged wings protruded from his back, and his eyes burned like molten gold.

Yet despite his size—despite his monstrous strength—the aura surrounding me seemed to press down on him. The battlefield itself felt smaller in my presence. Harald bared his fangs.

"I will admit it, Rosinante..." His voice boomed like thunder. "You are strong." His massive hand clenched slowly. "But if you think you can best a god like—"

My body moved. I had no patience for speeches. No interest in hearing him proclaim himself divine. Every second Harald continued breathing only made the memory of Dora cut deeper. So I moved. One step. And the world blurred. To Harald’s eyes it must have looked like nothing more than a streak of black lightning cutting across the battlefield.

His senses screamed in warning. The giant king threw himself sideways, rolling across the frozen ground in desperate evasion—but he wasn’t fast enough.

SHRRRKKK—!!

Shusui carved through the air. The blade tore through Harald’s calves with ruthless precision, slicing through scales, flesh, and bone as if they were nothing. A massive spray of blood erupted into the air. Harald roared. His enormous body staggered as he tried to stand— But the damage was too great.

His knee slammed into the ground with a thunderous CRASH, sending shockwaves across the frozen battlefield. The giant king slammed his fist into the ground in fury. The impact shattered the ice beneath him.

"I am going to kill you before the day is done—!" His voice trembled with rage. He had been attacked mid-sentence. Humiliated. Interrupted like an insect. I stepped forward slowly, flicking Shusui clean with a smooth motion to get rid of the giant blood upon it.

"Don’t waste your breath, Harald." My voice was calm. Cold. "If you have anything left to say..." My eyes locked onto his. "...save it for Dora when you meet her in the afterlife."

For a moment, the battlefield went silent. Then my future sight flared. A vision flashed across my mind. Harald’s body kneeling. A black portal forming beneath him. An abyssal circle opening. Imu. They were trying to pull him out.

Reality snapped back. And right beneath Harald’s kneeling form, the black sigil began to appear. Ancient symbols carved themselves into the snow as the Abyss Circle started forming. The air twisted. Dark energy surged upward like black flames.

They were trying to extract him from the battlefield. Trying to pull their strongest knight back before he died. For a brief second, Harald looked surprised himself by the sudden summons of retreat from the Great One. Then a smug smile began creeping across his face. But it never finished forming.

Because at that exact moment—something inside me snapped. My Haki exploded. Not in a controlled surge. Not in a measured wave. But in a violent, brutal, overwhelming eruption of Conqueror’s Haki that tore across the seas like the roar of a sleeping god awakening. The ground cracked beneath my feet.

The sky trembled; even the world tree groaned in pain, unable to bear the weight of the overwhelming haki pressing upon the land. Black lightning burst outward from my body in violent arcs as my will flooded the world, the burst so powerful that it could be felt hundreds of miles away.

It was like a tidal wave of pure dominance. The kind of pressure that suffocated the world itself. The snow was blasted away in every direction. The clouds above split apart as if something ancient had just opened its eyes.

For a single moment—it felt like the very spirit of the world had descended upon Elbaf. And that power—crushed downward. Directly onto the forming Abyss Circle. The black ritual circle trembled. Cracked. Then shattered into nothingness. The dark flames forming the portal were snuffed out instantly, as if an unseen hand had simply erased them from existence.

The connection between Harald and the abyssal summoning was ruthlessly severed. Not resisted. Not weakened. Destroyed. Like a fragile thread torn apart by a hurricane. The dark symbols disintegrated into nothingness. The portal never finished forming. And the battlefield fell silent once more.

Harald stared down at the ground beneath him. Where the escape he had been promised had just vanished. Slowly—very slowly—his eyes lifted toward me. I stood there quietly. Blades in hand. Haki still radiating from my body like a storm barely contained.

A massive presence descended upon Harald’s kneeling form. I did not need to think twice to understand what had happened. Imu’s consciousness had fully descended.

Through the connection of the Depth’s Covenant, the same cursed link I had once experienced when battling Poseidon, a complete possession had taken place. One of the God’s Knights had become nothing more than a vessel. Harald’s body still knelt before me, but the will inside it was no longer his own.

It was not that Imu particularly favored Harald among the God’s Knights. What made Harald special... was the Devil Fruit he had consumed. The power of Nidhöggr. A power the World Government had sought for centuries.

With Harald bound by covenant, the ancient dragon’s strength belonged to them. And they had no intention of losing it here—especially when Harald had only recently eaten the fruit and had yet to awaken the true potential of the Mythical Zoan slumbering within him.

The air grew heavy. The sky darkened. And then Imu spoke.

"Young Don Quixote... thou hast crossed lines that ought never to be crossed."

The voice that came from Harald’s mouth was calm, yet filled with a suffocating authority—the voice of a being that believed itself the ruler of the world.

"Depart whilst I yet grant thee mercy. Nidhöggr is mine to command... and I shall not suffer thee to harm that which belongeth unto me."

Their tone was plain, but the arrogance behind it was absolute. To them, I was still an insignificant pawn. Even after touching the power of a God Fruit. Their pride would never allow them to see me as a true threat. To admit that would mean acknowledging fear. And gods... did not admit fear.

But I remained unmoved. A storm of Haki erupted. Imu’s overwhelming presence crashed into mine like a collapsing heaven as two invisible domains of will collided across the skies of Elbaf. The clouds split. Lightning crawled across the horizon.

Yet even with Imu’s consciousness amplifying Harald’s strength, his Haki was still suppressed beneath mine. I looked down at him calmly.

"You took something from me, Imu," I said quietly. "And I will take something from you in return."

My voice hardened. "And you can rest assured... I won’t stop at Harald’s head. I will come for every single one who swears allegiance to the World Government... and eventually for the throne you hide behind."

A long silence followed. Then Imu spoke again, their voice colder now.

"Thou speakest heresy, young one. Take not Mu’s patience for cowardice." The pressure in the air deepened. "Thou, more than any mortal who treadeth this world, shouldst know what it truly meaneth... to defy Mu."

I cut them off. "There’s nothing left to talk about between us." My eyes sharpened. "Begone."

"I still have to offer the Giant King’s head to soothe Dora’s spirit in heaven. " I lifted my blade slightly. "If you wanted to stop me... you should have come to Elbaf yourself."

"Because you already know the truth. None of your puppets are strong enough to stop me." For the first time, Imu’s voice rose.

"ROSINANTE...!" The heavens trembled with the sheer fury behind that name. "Dost thou truly believe that even with Mu’s consciousness descended upon Nidhöggr... I cannot halt thee?"

There was a teasing mirth beneath the anger. Because unlike Poseidon—whose power lay in dominion over the seas—Nidhöggr was power incarnate. Its strength came from within. And if Imu truly commanded it... Even a budding god like me might struggle against the ancient dragon.

But I simply smiled. "Well... maybe you’re right." I raised my sword firmly with both hands, anchoring myself upon the world. Akatsuki hummed. Divine Haki surged through my body like the birth of a star.

"But I’m pretty sure that once I sever the Depth’s Covenant... the mark connecting you to the Giant King...you’ll lose your grip on him."

Golden lightning began spilling into the sky. "Meaning you won’t be able to project your consciousness anymore." My grin widened. "Am I right, Imu...?"

For the first time, Imu realized what I intended.

"WAIT—"

But it was already too late. The world fell silent. Then—Light was born. Divine Haki erupted from my body in a blinding explosion of golden radiance. Lightning-like heavenly serpents tore across the skies of Elbaf. The clouds split apart as though the firmament itself had been cleaved open. The oceans trembled. Mountains cracked.

Even distant islands across the Grand Line felt the sudden pressure of something impossible. Across the world, across the Grand Line, and across the four blues, sailors stopped mid-step. Kings looked toward the horizon. Ancient beasts in the deep ocean stirred.

Because for a single moment, it felt as though the heavens themselves had opened. I raised Akatsuki toward the sky. Golden light poured into the blade endlessly, as if the sun itself had been drawn down into its edge.

A sword of pure radiance extended upward—stretching. Growing. Ascending beyond the clouds. Beyond the heavens. Until the blade seemed to touch the gates of heaven itself. Then I spoke the name.

"GATES OF HEAVEN."

And I brought the blade down. The strike did not merely fall. It descended like divine judgment. A colossal blade of golden light crashed from the sky, its brilliance illuminating the entire world like a second sun. The radiance was so vast that night vanished across half the globe.

The World Tree of Elbaf—Yggdrasil, whose titanic trunk supported the three massive layers of the giant kingdom—stood directly in its path. Harald roared as his body began transforming into the massive form of Nidhöggr—obsidian scales bursting from his skin. Wings tearing through the air. Ancient dragon power surging outward.

But the transformation never finished. Because the divine blade arrived first. The golden edge passed through Harald mid-transformation. Clean. Effortless. Like light cutting through shadow. For a moment nothing happened. Then the world split. The entire side of the World Tree was severed in a single impossible cut. The first layer of Elbaf... The second... The third... All three colossal tiers of the giant kingdom were cleaved apart by the descending blade of radiance.

The shockwave continued far beyond. The surrounding seas parted violently as the slash extended across the horizon, carving a glowing scar through the ocean itself. Mountains shattered. Storms were blown apart. Even the clouds above the Red Line trembled.

Across the world, people saw it. A line of golden light stretching across the sky. Like a sword stroke from heaven. And at the center of it all—King Harald’s body slowly separated. The mark of the Depth’s Covenant split apart. For a brief instant—Imu’s presence lingered. Then their voice echoed faintly through the fading light.

"...Thou... hast..." And the connection shattered. Silence returned to Elbaf. The golden radiance slowly faded. The divine blade vanished. And the severed half of the World Tree began to fall.

****

Pangea Castle, Red Line

The Throne Room of the Holy Land stood in absolute silence. An immense hall carved from pale stone and ancient authority, its towering pillars disappearing into shadow high above. Vast stained windows depicted the victories of the World Government across eight centuries, their colors muted beneath the dim glow of sacred braziers.

At the far end of the hall rose the Empty Throne. Or rather, the throne that the world believed to be empty. Upon it sat the one being none were permitted to acknowledge. Imu. Motionless. Still as a statue.

Their long silhouette rested against the vast throne’s backrest, eyes closed as though lost in deep meditation. The air around them felt heavy—ancient, suffocating—like the pressure at the bottom of the ocean.

Below the throne, kneeling upon the polished floor, were the Gorosei. Five of the most powerful men in the world. Beside them knelt the remaining God’s Knights who had returned from Elbaf mission; uniformed figures bowed deeply, their heads lowered in reverence. No one spoke. No one shifted. No one even dared breathe too loudly.

To disturb the Great One’s communion would be unthinkable. Moments passed. Minutes perhaps. Then something changed. Far above the Holy Land, the sky ignited. A sudden golden brilliance washed across the heavens like the birth of a second sun. It was distant, impossibly far away—yet its radiance still reached the sacred city of Mary Geoise.

Those trained in Haki felt it instantly. A disturbance. A tremor in the very fabric of will. The God’s Knights felt it first. Their bodies stiffened. Then the Gorosei. An overwhelming surge of divine power rippled through the world like a tidal wave. Somewhere... something catastrophic had occurred.

But before anyone could even form a thought, Imu opened their eyes. The movement was subtle. Yet it felt as though the air itself froze. Then—without warning—Imu’s head suddenly jerked sideways.

A sharp motion. As if something had just passed by them at unimaginable speed. A moment of confusion rippled through the kneeling figures.

And then—SHHHHHK.

A sound like silk being sliced echoed through the chamber. The enormous backrest of the throne—a monolithic structure of ancient stone carved with centuries of history—split apart. A perfect, impossibly thin line appeared across it. Then the stone slid apart cleanly. The cut continued. Through the throne. Through the towering marble wall of the throne room itself.

For several long seconds... nothing moved. Then the massive section of wall behind the throne slowly separated and collapsed outward, revealing a distant slice of sky beyond Mary Geoise. The hall trembled. Dust drifted through the air.

And in the absolute silence that followed, a single golden droplet of blood fell. The Gorosei’s hearts nearly stopped. A thin golden line had appeared across Imu’s cheek. A shallow cut. Perfectly straight. Impossibly precise. The golden droplet slid slowly down their pale skin before falling to the stone floor.

No one understood what had happened. No one saw an attack. No one sensed a presence. Yet the evidence stood before them. The throne had been cleaved. Pangea Castle itself had been cut open. And Imu sama had been wounded.

For the first time in over a thousand years. The God’s Knights trembled where they knelt. Their minds raced desperately.

Who...?

Who would dare...?

Who could even reach this place...?

Then realization struck them like lightning. Their connection with the Abyss. The Depth’s Covenant. Through Harald. They had felt it break. Felt the moment his life vanished. Felt the ancient power of Nidhöggr disappear from the world into hiding once more. The dragon they had searched for centuries...gone.

And the attack—the attack had followed the connection. It had traveled through the very bond Imu had used to possess Harald. A strike so vast... so absolute... It had cut through space itself and reached the Holy Land. A silent message from across the world.

The Gorosei felt cold dread creep through their chests. Because there was only one person, it could be. Rosinante. No one dared speak the name. No one dared raise their head. The air suddenly became... unbearable.

From the throne, a presence erupted. A cold, suffocating Haki spread outward like an endless tide swallowing the room whole. The braziers flickered violently. Cracks spread across the marble floor. Every single person present instinctively slammed their foreheads against the ground.

None dared look. Because to witness their god bleeding... was heresy. Imu slowly lifted their hand. Two slender fingers brushed against their cheek. They looked down at the golden stain upon their fingertips.

For centuries beyond counting, their body had remained untouched. Unchallenged. Untouched by blade, bullet, or will. And yet... a thin line of blood now marked their skin. Proof. Someone in this world had finally managed to harm them. The room trembled under the weight of their silence.

The Gorosei could barely breathe. Even the God’s Knights—warriors who stood above admirals and emperors alike—felt terror crawl down their spines. Because the aura emanating from the throne was no longer calm. It was furious.

Ancient. Cold. Murderous. Imu wiped the blood slowly from their cheek. Their voice, when it finally came, was quiet. But it echoed through the chamber like the whisper of a coming apocalypse.

"...So thou truly dare to defy me." A pause. The air tightened further. ...thou hast slain my vessel. " Their fingers closed slowly. Crushing the droplet of blood, "...and Nidhöggr is lost to Mu once more."