Dust and smoke rolled across the wreckage in heavy waves.
What had once been a grand, immaculate plaza was now a ruin of shattered stone. The thick slabs had been split and buckled, webbed with deep fissures and pocked with craters. Blood ran through the cracks like rainwater down channels, mixing with the bodies of CP agents and Holy Land Guards strewn across the battlefield. Even the air tasted of gunpowder and iron.
Around the desolation, thousands of elite Guards and CP agents had already formed a ring.
But the truth of that so-called "encirclement" showed in their shaking hands and gray, rigid faces. Against that man, every step they took was meaningless.
This was a battle beyond human comprehension.
The World Government's supreme authority—the Five Elder Stars—had been driven back by a single figure.
And that same figure had severed the arm of Figarland Garling, newly appointed Commander of the Knights of God, the one hailed as the "Strongest Celestial Dragon."
If they hadn't seen it themselves, none of them would have believed it could happen.
"F-Fox Excellency… should we move in?"
A CP0 agent in a jackal mask leaned close and spoke in a low voice to Stussy.
Behind her own mask, Stussy's eyes shone faintly as she stared at Darren—domineering, arrogant, blazing like a storm made flesh. It was as if she wanted to carve the scene into her memory. Her breathing had gone heavy without her noticing.
At her subordinate's question, she drew a long breath and forced her mind back into order.
After a moment, she looked past Darren to the Gorosei and Kong facing him from afar. Then her gaze slid to Doflamingo nearby—hands in his pockets, that familiar faint smirk tugging at his mouth. Stussy shook her head.
"Without explicit orders from the Gorosei, none of us interfere."
"We have to trust in the power of the five Warrior God Excellencies. Their strength, accumulated over centuries… it isn't something that breaks."
"If they believe we're needed, they'll give the command."
"Since they haven't, it means the situation is still firmly under their control."
The CP agents went quiet.
Their mouths twitched, as if a dozen objections were caught behind their teeth, but obedience won. They swallowed the words.
Under our Excellencies' control… do you honestly believe that?
They glanced at the devastated ground, at the black-haired youth who stood there bleeding—yet still radiating something almost divine, almost demonic. Then, as if agreeing out loud might make it true, they nodded together.
"Lady Stussy is right."
"As expected of Lady Stussy."
"We were worrying for nothing."
…
Well. At least we've convinced ourselves.
---
Drip.
Drip.
Fresh blood slid down Darren's body and along his right hand, pooling beneath him and spreading into a dark stain. The corner of his mouth was smeared red, tinting even his teeth. It was obvious the lone clash—with the Gorosei and with Figarland Garling—had cost him dearly.
And yet.
As the Gorosei stared at him—thunder crackling around his frame—they fell into a silence that felt unnatural.
Faced with Darren's blunt, brazen words, none of them spoke.
For a moment, the world held its breath, broken only by Garling's ragged, uneven gasps.
"If you try it," Kong said at last, his voice deep enough to grind stone, "you'll die here. I guarantee it."
He lifted his head, eyes locked on Darren as he rasped, "The Government's authority cannot be challenged. Never forget that, Darren. And how long do you think you can maintain this state?"
Darren's eyes narrowed.
In that instant, he seemed to sense something. His gaze flicked toward the deepest recesses of Pangaea Castle.
A silent second passed.
Then he looked back as if nothing had happened, shrugged lightly, and smiled with casual indifference.
"Fine. I'll give you some face today, Fleet Admiral Kong."
His gaze slid past Kong and the grim-faced Gorosei, settling on the red-haired Celestial Dragon behind them—clutching what remained of his arm, pale, struggling to breathe. Darren's smile softened into something almost polite.
"Saint Garling Excellency," he said, "it seems today is your lucky day."
Garling sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. "This isn't over."
Darren's smile didn't change. "I'm looking forward to it."
"Oh—almost forgot."
He tapped his forehead, then bowed—an elegant, gentlemanly motion—toward the Gorosei and Saint Garling alike.
"On behalf of the dozens of nations of the North Blue, I congratulate Saint Figarland Garling Excellency on your promotion to Commander of the Knights of God."
The instant the words landed, veins flared around Garling's bloodshot eyes.
The Gorosei's breathing hitched as one.
Before any of them could move, Darren's gaze shifted to Doflamingo nearby. He smiled again, easy as conversation.
"You've come a long way, Doflamingo."
Doflamingo paused, then a mocking curve twisted his lips. "All thanks to your kindness, Rogers Darren."
Darren chuckled. "You're welcome."
Then he lifted his boot and gave the ground a light stomp.
Crack!
A deep fissure tore open beneath his sole, racing across the plaza as dust burst upward.
Rumble…
A vast web of fractures spread outward. Before the horrified eyes of the onlookers, the Stairway to Heaven—unyielding for centuries—began to crumble, its ancient stone splitting and sinking as cracks multiplied.
The fissure climbed, eating its way up the steps, reaching the summit—then racing into the towering statue on the left. The elegant face, the iconic crescent-moon hairstyle, the calm, profound eyes—
All of it became laced with fissures.
With a deafening roar, the statue of Saint Figarland Garling crashed down and shattered.
Darren shot into the sky, a brilliant streak of light that pierced the horizon and vanished into the distant sea of clouds.
"'King of the North Blue,' Rogers Darren… has come to witness the ceremony!"
His arrogant laughter rolled across the ruined plaza, echoing again and again.
The statue fell. The earth trembled.
And in that same moment, sunlight cut through the clouds like golden blades, spilling over the shattered landscape.
Doflamingo stood rooted in place, staring at the peak of the Stairway to Heaven.
There—where two statues had once stood side by side—only one remained.
The blond Celestial Dragon stared at the solitary statue left standing.
A majestic likeness of himself—
Towering over ruins, beside the broken remains of the fallen statue…
And at last,
he couldn't help it.
He burst into laughter.
To be continued...