Chapter 299: Furious World Nobles

Naturally, concepts like fatherhood were completely alien to Luffy.

To his mind, the most important entities in existence were the crewmates and brothers he shared his daily life with, along with his grandfather.

The label of "father" was merely a word in his vocabulary, eliciting zero emotional resonance.

Moving at absolute top speed, Dragon descended onto the main plaza. Seeing the Revolutionary Army's Supreme Commander return to the field, the subversives erupted into wild, electrified cheers, their morale surging to an all-time peak.

"Belo Betty! It's your turn to take the stage!" The absolute first directive Dragon issued upon landing was calling the East Army Commander forward.

At a milestone like this—where the battle had reached its midpoint and physical exhaustion was threatening both forces—the rousing capabilities of her Pump-Pump Fruit would play a decisive, tide-turning role.

BOOM!

"Comrades!" Puffing on her cigarette, Betty swept her giant red banner across the sky with a fierce snap. "Our long-cherished dream is standing directly before our eyes! A future of absolute equality and freedom is resting mere steps away!"

"It is a future paid for with decades of non-stop blood, sweat, and the sacrifice of countless fallen brothers who bled beside us! At this final, critical hour... are you going to let their sacrifices be in vain?!"

"NEVER!" The Revolutionary Army's collective voice erupted like thunder.

The synchronized roar of tens of thousands of hardened subversives reverberated across the plateau, striking primitive dread into the hearts of any World Government soldiers harboring hesitant wills, forcing them to stumble back in fear.

As the crimson flag fluttered high in the wind, Betty's tall, resolute silhouette shone like a beacon of hope pointing toward a new era, leaving onlookers utterly captivated.

"WOAH! A TOTAL BEAUTY!" Standing among the Straw Hat crew, Sanji's body instantly broke into an uncontrollable, noodle-legged dance of adoration.

The Straw Hat Crew: "..."

CLANG!

Zoro collided his twin blades against the final golden-masked agent, scattering a massive shower of blinding sparks.

Both fighters funneled every drop of their physical stamina into their arms, locking in a violent test of raw strength. The bulging muscles along their forearms continuously unleashed explosive kinetic energy with every microsecond.

Howling gales generated by the collision of their aura swept across open airspace. A fierce purple glint flickered in Zoro's eyes as dense, shimmering Haki enveloped his steel.

KABOOM!

The deafening shockwave caused Sanji to pause, casting a sideways glance toward Zoro's clash. After a moment of deliberate hesitation, he called out in an insufferably smug tone: "Hey, Marimo. How come you haven't disposed of your trash yet?"

"Don't tell me you need me to step in and save you?"

Zoro—whose nerves were stretched to peak tension—instantly blew his top, roaring back at Sanji: "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP, YOU SHIT-COOK! MIND YOUR OWN DAMN..."

Before he could finish his insult, the masked agent's blade sliced forward, forcing Zoro into a chaotic flurry of defensive parries.

Yet far from losing his footing, Zoro rapidly reclaimed his rhythm, the speed of his sword strikes accelerating beyond his prior limits.

Unleashing a relentless flurry of Three Blades Style slashes, Zoro gritted his teeth, pouring absolute maximum output into every swing. The enemy before him was elite, but he was determined to prove himself superior!

If he could thoroughly crush this masked monster, it would mark a permanent evolution in his sword mastery—bringing the title of the World's Strongest Swordsman one step closer to his grip!

"Alright, he's got it handled," Sanji said with a casual wave of his hand, signaling the rest of the crew to relax.

As the war entered its absolute boiling pitch, the Revolutionary Army's frontline—which had originally lacked sufficient high-tier combat mass—had completely erased its disadvantage thanks to the arrival of the Straw Hat Pirates and the Dragon Flag Pirates.

They had successfully inverted the strategic tide, turning a desperate defense into a dominant offensive.

The plaza was littered with fallen soldiers, men dying in quiet despair or crawling through pools of blood to launch one final, desperate strike—every tragic detail captured in its entirety by Weitian's watchful eyes.

In corners hidden from the main body of troops, far too many lives were quietly fading away.

"WHAT ARE YOU WORTHLESS BUFFOONS DOING?!" A furious, shrill roar suddenly shattered the atmosphere, echoing across the entire battlefield.

In the very next moment, four figures stepped out from the inner precinct gates of Mary Geoise.

The combatants on the field turned their heads in deep confusion.

Celestial Dragons!

Not a single soul on that plaza failed to recognize that iconic attire—the extravagant, swollen white silk robes, the specialized rigid collars, and those distinct glass bubble helmets worn exclusively by the World Nobles.

It was the quintessential outfit worn by Celestial Dragons whenever they deigned to step into the outside world!

Why on earth were Celestial Dragons coming out here?! Did those pampered fools have zero awareness of the catastrophic danger surrounding them?!

The leading World Noble, his face contorted in pure, unadulterated rage, marched directly up to the Five Elders. "You old relics had better give me an acceptable explanation for this mess right now!"

With a harsh flick of his wrist, the middle-aged World Noble motioned to two attendants behind him, who stepped forward carrying a heavy stretcher covered in a white sheet.

"Saint Cerdic! What is the meaning of this intrusion?!" The Five Elders expressed deep displeasure—for Celestial Dragons to wander out onto an active war zone at a time like this was pure, unadulterated trouble!

"Wait... that's..." The Elders' expressions shifted subtly the moment their eyes landed on the stretcher, a sudden, dark premonition sprouting in their minds.

"UNCOVER IT!"

The two attendants slowly pulled back the white cloth, revealing the blood-drenched corpse of a young World Noble.

The Five Elders showed little actual shock—after all, in a global war of this scale, the demise of a Celestial Dragon was well within statistical probability. They merely wanted to decode what these arrogant fools intended to achieve by parading a corpse.

"My son, Saint Bradley, was murdered in cold blood!"

"What in the hell are you worthless useless fools even doing?! Why hasn't this war been brought to an absolute end yet?! You're growing more incompetent by the day—absolute trash!" The middle-aged World Noble snatched the Transponder Snail loudspeaker straight out of the Elders' hands.

"Listen up, every Marine and combat unit on this field! I am Saint Cerdic, a supreme Celestial Dragon! I command you to liquidate every single one of these subversive intruders right now! Furthermore, you are to immediately identify the murderer who dared slay my son—I am going to make that filth understand the horrifying price of shedding World Noble blood!"

Seeing that zero soldiers on the plaza moved so much as an inch following his rant, his face twisted in utter disgust. "WHY AREN'T YOU MOVING?! Anyone who slacks off will be publicly executed on the spot!"

Those atrocious words triggered a massive, violent shockwave across the entire theater.

The Marine soldiers—who were already enduring astronomical casualties—stared up at the arrogant World Noble in absolute, jaw-dropping disbelief. Since the first shot was fired, they had been bleeding and dying in the dirt.

Though the higher-ups had avoided stating it explicitly, every soldier understood that their fundamental duty on this field was shielding the Celestial Dragons residing in the rear from harm.

Yet here was a Celestial Dragon, barking orders and threatening them with execution as if they were nothing more than disposable slaves!

Junior Marines turned their eyes toward their officers, and the officers turned their focus toward the Navy high command. A crushing, collective realization washed over their minds: every drop of blood they had shed on this battlefield was utterly, completely meaningless.

At this milestone, even the Navy high command couldn't preserve their composure. Garp and Sengoku—who had just descended from the upper observation towers—stood completely flabbergasted by the Celestial Dragon's unhinged outburst.

What kind of circus was this fool trying to run?!

"Vice Admiral Garp! Former Fleet Admiral Sengoku!"

Seeing the two legendary veterans approach, the surrounding Marines hurriedly parted to clear a path.

"That Celestial Dragon... he..." A Vice Admiral opened his mouth to voice his burning indignation, but Sengoku immediately raised a hand to silence him.

Openly expressing hostility toward a World Noble carried charges that were no laughing matter.

"Sengoku! Garp! You came at the perfect time! Hurry up and slaughter every single one of these subversives!" Saint Cerdic barked with a cruel grin.

The three World Nobles standing behind his shoulder maintained equally arrogant, nose-in-the-air postures.

Garp and Sengoku exchanged deeply bizarre expressions. Garp, in particular, looked at the four Celestial Dragons as if eyeing absolute, hopeless idiots.

Did these sheltered pigs truly possess zero awareness that the sea of armed subversives standing before them had assembled for the explicit purpose of taking their lives?

The Revolutionary Army across the plaza was radiating a terrifying, absolute bloodlust—did they honestly fail to decode that the target of that rage was them?

With the unexpected emergence of these four World Nobles, the entire atmospheric dynamic of the battlefield shifted into something intensely volatile.

Every single soldier in the Revolutionary Army focused their eyes firmly on the four Celestial Dragons—after all, those four represented the ultimate, overarching target of their entire campaign!