God's Knights? Killed with One Slash

The metal gate crashed onto the bluestone tiles like two massive chunks of scrap iron.

The ground jolted violently. More than a dozen tiles shattered in an instant, sending fragments flying in every direction.

The gale from the collapsing gate swept up dust and hurled it deep into the treasury.

Molten iron still dripped from the high-temperature cuts. A dark red glow flickered through the dust, accompanied by a sizzling hiss.

Five tall, slender figures stepped out onto the scorching iron plates.

Their leather boots struck the metal in perfectly synchronized taps. The distance between each step was precise to the fraction.

They wore white capes with high collars. The hems were embroidered in gold thread with the World Government's cross-star emblem.

Pure white masks concealed every expression, leaving only two narrow slits for their eyes.

The temperature in the air plummeted the instant they emerged.

The stifling heat caused by lightning and cutting was forcibly driven away by a bone-chilling cold. Even the pungent scent of rust turned icy.

The five members of God's Knights raised their hands at the same time.

Five oddly shaped rapiers slid free from their sheaths. The scraping sound was clear and piercing.

They stood at the edge of the platform, looking down at Rektol below.

Their gazes were lofty and disdainful.

Like standing on a clean street and watching filthy rats rummage through garbage in a sewer. There was no anger, only pure revulsion.

The leading knight stepped forward half a pace. The hem of his cape swayed slightly in the frigid air.

He opened his mouth. His voice came through the mask, carrying a mechanical rasp and boundless arrogance.

"Filthy pirate."

"This is the domain of gods. Every breath you take is an insult to the Celestial Dragons."

He raised his rapier, its slender tip pointing from afar at Rektol's nose.

"Now, I sentence you to death. Great descendants of the Creator..."

Rektol picked at his ear.

A little black grime came out from under his nail. He casually flicked it onto the floor.

He could not be bothered to hear another word. This fart-like nonsense would only waste time he could spend moving treasure.

Deep inside his chest, three hearts contracted at once.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The three dull beats overlapped perfectly. They were not loud, yet they struck directly against everyone's eardrums like war drums.

His blood surged through Rektol's slender veins like boiling water.

His three-year-old body endured pressure at its absolute limit.

His nostrils flared rapidly as he exhaled a blast of scorching white vapor. It tore a gap through the icy oppression the moment it entered the air.

Veins bulged one after another across his forehead like coiling earthworms.

The muscles in his short right arm swelled violently with blood, stretching the coarse cloth sleeve taut.

Rektol raised his right hand. His five fingers clenched fiercely in the air.

Crackle!

A violent current of two hundred million volts exploded in his palm.

Blue-white lightning instantly stretched outward. A two-meter-long, deep-blue Thunder Greatsword formed directly in his hand.

The blade had no physical form. It was made entirely of high-voltage arcs leaping wildly about. Sparks battered the air, producing dense explosive crackles.

The gravitational field supplied by his second heart was compressed tightly onto the surface of the Thunder Greatsword.

Gravity distorted the light around the blade. The air shuddered violently like rippling water.

The fury of thunder and the crushing weight of gravity were perfectly fused together.

Katakuri stood behind him. The terrifying energy fluctuations forced him half a step back, his military boots leaving two black streaks on the ground.

The power of the Azure Dragon Fruit he had just swallowed stirred restlessly in his veins, yet the pressure of the Thunder Greatsword pinned it firmly beneath his skin.

Rektol's toes suddenly ground the bluestone tiles to pieces.

Stone fragments burst outward.

His entire body transformed into a blinding bolt of lightning and shot straight toward the platform.

The leading knight had not even finished speaking before his voice caught hard in his throat.

Rektol was already before him.

The two-meter Thunder Greatsword swung in a full arc at the five lofty specters.

A Great Swordsman-level slash.

There were no blind spots. No flashy feints.

Only pure violence.

A blue, crescent-shaped net of sword energy, carrying gravity powerful enough to destroy the world, instantly engulfed the entire platform.

Rip!

The sound of fabric tearing rang out.

The two knights at the front had not even completed the motion of raising their swords to block.

The sword energy sliced through the famous swords in their hands as easily as tofu. Broken blades forged from Fine Steel flew into the air.

Then, blue light passed through their bodies.

Their bodies were cut diagonally into two halves. Before blood could even spray out, the flesh around the wounds was instantly carbonized by the heat of two hundred million volts.

Their organs were burned into black ash by electric sparks. The two charcoal-like remains toppled stiffly onto the iron plates and shattered into chunks.

The sword energy did not slow.

The violent slash cleaved directly into the load-bearing pillars of the underground treasury.

Five white marble pillars, each three meters in diameter, let out a series of shrill cracking sounds.

The cuts were smooth as mirrors. The stone along the cross-sections melted directly into scorching magma.

The supporting structure was completely destroyed.

The entire treasury collapsed with a thunderous roar.

Several enormous cracks split open across the ceiling. Tons of granite mixed with soil poured down like a waterfall.

They crashed onto piles of Pure Gold and iron safes, producing deafening booms.

Gold coins and shattered stone flew wildly through the air. Dust swept through the entire space like a sandstorm.

The ground shook violently. Cracker gritted his teeth and used every ounce of strength to steady the enormous metal sphere above his head, his chubby face turning purple from the strain.

Blinding white light swallowed all vision inside the underground chamber.

Lightning and dust mixed together, making it impossible to see anything.

The air was thick with the burnt stench of shattered stone and the foul odor of roasted flesh.

Deep within the white light.

In the corner to the right, rubble shifted and rolled.

The supreme commander of God's Knights, Saint Garling.

His white cape had been slashed to tatters by the sword energy. Half his mask had shattered, exposing a bloodshot right eye.

In that instant just now.

Cold sweat had broken out across his back. It soaked through his inner clothes and clung to his spine.

Relying on the beastlike instinct honed amid mountains of corpses.

Saint Garling had forcibly snapped his own left ankle.

The excruciating pain of displaced bone jolted his nerves. Borrowing that twisted force, he forcibly shifted his body half an inch in midair.

A bloody gash deep enough to expose bone had been carved into his right waist, and his intestines were nearly spilling out.

But he had broken free from that airtight net of sword energy.

Saint Garling panted heavily, his mouth full of the taste of blood.

He knelt on one knee. Rubble dug into his knee.

Both hands gripped the crescent-shaped famous sword tightly.

He raised the blade upward, holding it firmly in front of his face.

On his retina, the final violent bolt of lightning descending beside his scalp had already filled his entire world.