"So... they've finally made their move?"

Daren's bloodshot eyes suddenly lit up as he stared hard at the Den Den Mushi screen, locking onto the shadowy figures now coming into view.

The God's Knights—one of the most mysterious and formidable forces within the World Government—were composed of Celestial Dragons themselves. Their role was to uphold the dignity and power of the royal family, to protect the Celestial Dragons, and maintain their dominion.

Even as a transmigrator, Daren knew little about this elite force.

How many of them were there? Just how powerful were they? Did each member possess the same monstrous strength as Saint Figarland Garling?

To truly go to war with the World Government, gathering detailed intel was essential.

Back in Mary Geoise, Saint Figarland Garling's overwhelming Conqueror's Haki had already exceeded every expectation Daren had.

And if every member of the God's Knights was as powerful as him… things would become very, very difficult.

The feed from the military Den Den Mushi shifted again.

Figures dressed in elegant noble suits emerged from the black smoke and swept across the burning streets with terrifying speed.

Under the flickering night sky, with fire dancing around them, the God's Knights moved like graceful specters in a burning underworld—smiling as they harvested lives.

Their swordsmanship was intricate, refined—like butterflies weaving through flowers, like light and shadow flickering past. Many of the slaves didn't even notice they'd been struck until a thin red line appeared on their necks. A few seconds later, they collapsed without a sound.

Daren had never seen swordplay like this before.

He wasn't skilled in swordsmanship himself. The few "sword techniques" he had learned were really just Devil Fruit-powered hurls—brute force dressed up as blade arts.

Shiki, once the strongest dual-wielding swordsman of his era, had sneered at those moves, calling them "half-baked tricks"—the kind that only a sword-obsessed fool like Mihawk would take seriously.

But just because Daren didn't wield a sword didn't mean he lacked understanding.

He had crossed blades with the best: Kozuki Oden, Shiki, Roger, Rayleigh, Big Mom... Titans of swordsmanship. Those battles had sharpened Daren's insight and perspective far beyond the average fighter's.

And now, he found himself surprised.

The God's Knights' sword style was clearly distinct from the Eastern, samurai-based schools. It bore the unmistakable flair of Western fencing—favoring stabs and thrusts over slashes and swings.

This made their attacks far more piercing and deadly.

The silver lining? Judging from what he saw on the screen, most of the God's Knights hadn't reached the level of an Admiral—or were just barely brushing its edge.

"Take a good look, Daren..."

Warcury's wounds were slowly mending under a cloak of black flame and smoke. His gaze was condescending as he looked down on the battered, breathless Vice Admiral.

"They've already surrounded Fisher Tiger. This farce will be over soon."

"A frog in a well will always be a frog. Do you really think a fishman raised in the stench of a sewer could ever comprehend the might of gods above the clouds?"

With those words, Warcury's body swelled once more. In the blink of an eye, he transformed into a monstrous wild boar—Houki—so massive he seemed to blot out the sky. His tusks gleamed as he charged at Daren!

"Die! You should be proud, Daren! Few have ever caused us this much trouble!"

He'd already seen it.

The Marine Vice Admiral before him was at the end of his rope. Even if those other two launched another attack, there was no way he'd recover the strength he'd lost!

Houki roared. The ground quaked beneath him, splitting apart as he thundered forward.

"Storm Fury, Dragon Roar!"

A hoarse roar suddenly tore through the air.

A dark green hurricane surged into existence, rapidly expanding and twisting into a lifelike storm dragon. In an instant, it coiled around Houki's massive frame, jaws snapping straight at his neck.

The two colossal beasts collided violently, grappling across the ground and sending debris flying in all directions.

"I thought you were dead."

Daren glanced toward Dragon as he emerged from the whirlwind and gave a faint smile.

Dragon's face was covered in bruises, his body streaked with claw marks that still oozed blood.

"This bunch of old bastards... their powers make no sense at all!"

He wasn't in the mood for jokes. His gaze was grim, locked tightly onto Saint Marcus Mars—who had taken the form of Itsumade. A flicker of dread passed through his eyes as he grit his teeth.

That brief clash had been enough. He finally understood why even someone as powerful as Daren had been pushed to this state.

Immortality.

Even his strongest attacks, including his signature Ryusoken capable of crushing all tyranny in its path, had failed to leave a scratch on that old man.

Instead, under the unrelenting assault, his own injuries had only worsened—until he was left gravely wounded.

"Daren, do you have a plan?"

With Kuma and Ivankov standing tensely behind him, Dragon didn't even bother to wipe the blood from his lips. He asked heavily,

"If there's no way to actually kill them, we might have to retreat."

The five monstrous shadows loomed nearby, restless and menacing. A cold sweat trickled down Dragon's back.

Their raw strength was formidable—but not invincible. What truly pushed them toward despair was the enemy's relentless regenerative power.

Facing Dragon's wary gaze, the Five Elders remained calm, their expressions mocking and cold.

Like gods surveying the final, futile struggle of insects, they looked down on the battlefield with detached cruelty.

They wanted to savor the last flicker of hope dying in their enemies' eyes.

The world fell silent.

The situation grew increasingly dire.

On the Den Den Mushi projection screen, slaves were being slaughtered one after another, their voiceless screams echoing across the battlefield.

Fisher Tiger had already been targeted by two of the God's Knights. Deep, bone-baring wounds now marked both his chest and back.

Dragon stared hard at Daren, hoping—begging—for an answer.

"I never planned on killing them."

The Vice Admiral finally spoke, his voice raspy.

He exhaled a heavy breath.

"They really do seem unkillable. At least for now, I haven't found a single opening."

The Five Elders all broke into laughter.

But before they could respond—

"But you've all forgotten one thing."

They froze.

"What?"

A sudden weight pressed down on their hearts.

Daren's lips curled into a defiant, unsettling smile that sent a chill through them.

"Tiger-san is merciful and compassionate. He doesn't want to bathe the Holy Land in blood. All he wants is to save the suffering slaves... but me? I'm not like him."

"As everyone knows, I, Rogers Daren, am a man who never lets a grudge go."

"You burned my home—I'll burn yours."

"What I want is blood repaid in blood."

Daren slowly pulled out a bloodstained military Den Den Mushi, connected the line, and grinned savagely at the Five Elders as he spoke into the device.

"What I want... is for Mary Geoise, the Celestial Dragons' Holy Land, to drown in blood!"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.