The True Saint Imu Descended!
All they knew was that the supreme ruler of the World Government, the one Imu true face they had never seen, had just pierced through the meteor summoned by Madara Uchiha with a single shot.
Is this a good thing or a bad thing?
They no longer had the energy to think about it.
Shamrock leaned against Hongo, the bandage on his chest stained crimson with seeping blood.
He looked up and saw the shattered meteorite, the vanished demonic spear, and the sunlight returning to the sky.
His lips parted, and a very low, faint syllable escaped his throat, so faint that even he himself could not hear it.
"Imu... sir..."
Only Shanks didn't look at the sky.
His gaze remained fixed on Mary Geoise. His lips were tightly pressed together, his long red hair fluttered in the sea breeze, and the three scars on his left eye were particularly clear in the dim light.
He stared at it for a long time.
Fragments of the Tengai Shinsei are still falling.
A massive black rock, trailing a dark purple flame, streaked down from the Red Line, crashing into the sea and creating towering waves.
Sunlight streamed back through the shattered clouds, illuminating the ruins of the Sabaody Archipelago and every upturned face.
Then, at the top of the Red Line, a figure moved.
She emerged from the ruins of Mary Geoise, with no ground beneath her feet, only emptiness.
With each step she took, a ripple of dark red Demonic Energy spread out in the void, supporting her figure as if she were walking on water.
With fair skin, a slender figure three meters tall, and a head of bright red hair that floated quietly in the vacuum, like the tentacles of a jellyfish in the deep sea.
Her crimson almond-shaped eyes were as cold and clear as two glass beads dug out of an ancient glacier, devoid of warmth or emotion. Yet, the fine rings around the irises and the multi-layered ring patterns inside made her eyes resemble a meticulously crafted work of art.
She was surrounded by endless dark red Demonic Energy.
The Demonic Energy no longer surged violently, but instead quietly surrounded her, like a slowly rotating dark halo.
Within the halo, various weapons of different styles were scattered around— the Void Sword, the Muramasa, the Heaven's Punishment Sword, the Xingtian Axe, the Sea God Sword, the Demon Grudge Sword Wrath Sword Sacred Decree Spear, the Chaos Sword, Honebami Tōshirō...
The weapons that had appeared one by one when Imu changed her form no longer disappeared with her transformation, but instead hovered quietly beside her, like the most loyal guards.
Deep within the Demonic Energy behind her, a pair of scarlet eyes slowly opened.
Those eyes were larger, more ancient, and more indifferent than Imu's original crimson almond eyes.
It stood amidst the dark red Demonic Energy like two blood-red moons sunk in an abyss, coldly watching everything below.
Those eyes showed no emotion, no desire, not even hostility.
It is merely a pure "gaze," like the heavens looking down upon ants.
Madara Uchiha did not move.
He stood Susanoo's eyebrows, his Six-Tomoe Rinne Sharingan slowly rotating, its dark purple light flickering in his pupils.
His expression was exactly the same as before—indifferent, calm, with even a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
But behind him, Susanoo, a 1,500-meter-tall sky-blue war god, raised its Tachi slightly by an inch.
One inch.
Less than one-thousandth of the movement.
For Madara, however, this was the first time since the start of the war that he had proactively adjusted his defensive stance in front of his opponent.
Uchiha Shadian's Mangekyō Sharingan suddenly contracted.
The pattern of the Broken Cage spun rapidly in his pupils, and the black thorns around the three Tomoe exploded outwards.
His gaze passed over the shallow water, over the ruins, over the rock walls of the Red Line, and landed on Imu's true form.
Then he felt a chill.
The chill crept up his spine, spreading along the back of his neck to his scalp, like an icy hand gripping his brainstem from the inside.
Taki and Yan, who were standing beside him, reacted almost simultaneously—Taki's Lightning Release Chakra surged silently at his fingertips, and Yan's Mangekyō Sharingan unconsciously rotated the six-pointed star pattern. The three of them unconsciously moved half a step back.
Shanks raised his head, his face, which was almost identical to Shamrock's, was filled with a solemnity that seemed to solidify between his brows.
His left hand rested on the hilt of Gryphon's knife, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the edge of the guard.
He didn't speak, but Beckman read a very rare signal in his profile.
Shanks has met Imu.
Behind a door in Mary Geoise, under the watchful eyes of the Five Elders, he had seen the figure sitting on the Void Throne.
But the Imu of that time was completely different from the figure that is now falling from the Red Line.
Back then, Imu was power, order, and eight hundred years of silence. Now, Imu is strength.
Pure, naked, unadorned power.
The cigarette in Beckman's mouth had gone out.
He forgot when it was destroyed.
His gaze was fixed on the weapons surrounding Imu, counting them one by one.
Eleven handles.
He counted twice.
Eleven weapons of different shapes, each emanating Demonic Energy no less powerful than that of a Supreme Grade Blade.
His left hand rested on the flintlock pistol, his fingers tightening and loosening repeatedly.
Shamrock leaned against Hongo, the bandage on his chest stained crimson with seeping blood.
He looked up at the figure that had descended from the Red Line.
His lips parted slightly, and a very low, soft syllable escaped his throat.
"Imu... sir..."
His voice contained awe, relief, and some complex emotion that he himself couldn't quite explain.
But after he said that, he suddenly stopped.
His gaze passed over Imu's figure and landed in the direction of Mary Geoise.
There's nothing left there.
There was no Saint Green, no Wide-Brimmed Hat Woman, no Orange Mask, no Purple-Haired Woman, no two Beast-Shaped Figure, no White Skull Mask, no blonde girl.
His companions, the God's Knight who had come out of the Holy Land with him, were all gone.
They withered, dissipated, and were swallowed by Imu within the silk threads.
There wasn't even a body left.
His lips moved, and his Adam's apple bobbed once, but he couldn't say anything.
The reaction from the remaining naval personnel was even more intense.
The moment a young lieutenant looked up and saw Imu in person, the broken gun slipped from his fingers and smashed into the gravel.
He didn't pick it up.
He simply tilted his head back, his lips moving, and broken syllables churning in his throat that no one could understand.