After barely withstanding Lucian's attack, Saint Saturn—possessed by Imu—staggered violently.
The phantom image, which had just begun to solidify, flickered erratically, threatening to vanish at any moment.
Behind him, the Five Elders and Saint Garling wore expressions of relief, as if they had narrowly escaped death.
Cold sweat soaked through their opulent clothing.
But before the shadow of death could lift from above them, a voice drifted down from the sky.
It was a flat tone, sounding almost appreciative, but layered with mockery.
"Forcing an increase in your power to block it? Not bad."
This casual evaluation caused everyone's nerves to tighten once again.
The fleeting hope of survival vanished instantly.
The Five Elders and Saint Garling snapped their heads upward, the fear that had just receded being swallowed by an even more powerful terror.
"Now then, how about this?"
As Lucian's voice fell.
In the sky, where the golden giant sword had previously vanished, a single point of light reignited.
Then a second.
A third.
A tenth.
A hundredth.
In an instant, hundreds of golden giant swords filled the skies of God Valley.
Aligned in perfect formation with their tips pointing downward, they formed a canopy of death wrought from light and steel.
Each sword radiated a terrifying pressure capable of freezing the very soul.
Imu, the Five Elders, Saint Garling—the color drained from every one of their faces.
Deathly pale.
Their relief at surviving was now nothing more than a cruel joke.
All that remained was despair.
Nusjuro of the Five Elders, the swordsman wielding the Shodai Kitetsu, could no longer maintain his dignity.
He extended a finger, trembling as he pointed toward that golden canopy, a hoarse scream scraping from his throat.
"Impossible! This is absolutely impossible!"
His voice was filled with desperation.
They had gambled their entire strength against a single giant sword, and it had taken the partial use of Lord Imu's primordial power to barely block it.
Now, there were hundreds.
Hundreds?
How could they possibly defend against this?
This wasn't a battle; it was torture!
Lucian gave them no further time to think or react.
High above, clad in the Sun God armor, he simply swept his raised right arm downward.
A simple gesture.
The command: "Destruction."
The next moment, the barrage of swords unleashed.
The canopy of death, composed of hundreds of golden giant swords, moved.
They transformed into a seamless rain of golden steel, trailing long plumes of flame and carrying a will of annihilation as they performed an indiscriminate cleansing of the island's center.
"Defend!"
Saint Saturn, possessed by Imu, let out a roar of shock and rage, his voice tinged with panic for the first time.
He, the Five Elders, Saint Garling, and the remaining members of the Holy Knights squeezed every drop of dark energy from their bodies.
Torrential streams of pitch-black energy surged skyward, constructing a final barrier above their heads.
They pushed their immortality traits and dark primordial essence to the absolute limit, condensing a dark firmament over their heads that was thicker and more viscous than before.
But in the face of absolute power, all resistance was meaningless.
Their defense was nothing more than a sheet of paper.
The golden rain of swords collided with the dark defense.
The first wave alone made the newly formed dark canopy struggle to hold.
Then, countless streaks of golden light pierced through the darkness, and the sturdy barrier was torn to shreds in an instant.
The scattering fragments of black energy were completely purified and evaporated by the subsequent descent of sword light.
The golden rain began to plow through the land with savage intensity.
Blades pierced the earth and carved through mountains before erupting in thunderous explosions.
The fall of every single giant sword was accompanied by a violent blast.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
God Valley was slowly being annihilated.
Great swaths of earth were ripped open, and mountain peaks were shattered into pieces under the onslaught of the sword rain.
The central region of the entire island was being erased, piece by piece, by an unrivaled power.
Under an attack of this magnitude, the Five Elders and the members of the Holy Knights didn't even have time to scream.
The moment their bodies were struck by the first golden swords, they were completely vaporized by high temperatures and divine energy before a sound could leave their throats.
The matter that composed their bodies, along with the dark energy granted by Imu, was reduced back to basic particles.
The "immortality" they took such pride in, and their terrifying regenerative abilities, became an utter joke in the face of absolute power whose destructive speed exceeded regeneration by billions of times.
Regeneration?
When not even a single cell's worth of residue remained, what was there left to regenerate!
The shell of Saint Saturn, possessed by Imu, dodged frantically amidst the rain of death.
He leaped through space incessantly, trying to evade an attack that left no blind spots.
However, the sword rain was too dense.
No matter where he flickered to, several or even dozens of golden giant swords would plummet upon him the next second.
*Squelch!*
A giant sword pierced his left shoulder, the golden divine energy searing his dark essence and leaving a hole that refused to heal.
Boom!
Another giant sword exploded by his side, the violent shockwave blasting half of his body into a bloody mess.
The dark energy within him surged frantically, repairing the vessel that was on the verge of collapse, but the speed of repair could not keep up with the speed of destruction.
His movements grew slower, and his frequency of dodging dropped.
The phantom image flickered erratically, dimming to its absolute limit.
Gone was the composure of the King of the World.
On a ship dozens of nautical miles away.
Roger, Whitebeard, Rocks, and the others stared blankly at the apocalyptic scene.
The direction of God Valley was shrouded in a golden light so blinding it was impossible to look at directly.
The terrifying energy fluctuations caused the sea beneath their feet to boil violently, even from this distance.
"Gurarararara..."
A dry laugh escaped Whitebeard's throat, though the hand gripping his naginata was trembling slightly.
"That guy isn't fighting; he's executing prey."
Roger's lips were dry. He looked at the divine punishment of the golden sword rain and forced out a few words.
"If we were the ones trying to block those giant swords... what would the result be?"
No one answered him.
Because they all knew the answer.
They would die.
Like the Five Elders, they would be completely evaporated in the first wave of attacks, leaving not a single trace behind.
Just as they fell into self-doubt!
Saint Saturn, possessed by Imu, continued to be brutally ravaged.
In those eyes that once looked down upon all living beings, the divine coldness was gone.
Only an uncontrollable rage remained.
An indignation that seeped into the marrow.
And a hint of horror that he refused to admit to himself.
He watched, simply watched, as his elite guard—the lapdogs to whom he had granted "eternal life"—were erased in swaths by the rain of swords.
The pawns who had followed him for so long were about to vanish.
And he himself was about to follow in their footsteps.
Total annihilation was now upon them.