The Era of Rocks' Fall and the End of an Age

The rock strata split open, forming a hundred-meter-wide fissure.

Huge chunks of granite slammed into the Pure Gold bricks and shattered into white stone dust. Soil mixed with grass roots pattered down from the surface.

Sunlight streamed through the massive fissure and once again illuminated this gloomy underground treasury.

The beam of light struck the gold coins covering the ground, refracting into a dazzling golden glow.

Rektol stopped what he was doing.

The Lightning Spear at his fingertips, which had been ready to pierce Saint Garling's head, crackled once before slowly fading away into the air.

He raised his head.

His gaze passed through the enormous rift overhead and turned toward the center of the island.

Above the center of the island, the air was boiling.

The dark-red Conqueror's Haki pillar symbolizing the sea emperor Rocks twisted violently. Its surface was covered in black cracks, like glass on the verge of shattering.

On the cliff at the edge of the Grand Canyon.

Muddy water mixed with rain and poured into Rocks' boots.

He gasped heavily. With every breath, the sunken cavity of his chest gave off the terrifying creak of bones grinding against each other.

Garp's black iron fist, wrapped in a white sonic-boom cloud that tore through the air, smashed viciously into Rocks' chin.

His jaw shattered. Several bloodstained yellow teeth shot from Rocks' mouth and struck the muddy water.

At that same moment.

Roger gripped the Ace Greatsword with both hands. His black Armament Haki was so dense it seemed ready to drip like ink.

The blade scraped across Rocks' side.

Flesh peeled back. Blood sprayed out like water from a burst pipe, soaking Roger's red captain's coat.

A clot of blood stuck in Rocks' throat.

He glared fixedly at the two men before him. His dead-fish eyes, which had always radiated savagery, were now filled with despairing red veins.

He tried to raise the rapier in his hand. But the muscles in his arm had been completely shattered by the force of Garp's punch, leaving it hanging limply at his side.

The dark-red pillar of light let out a muffled cry of grief.

Like the final scream of a wild beast being strangled, it collapsed with a thunderous roar. The pillar scattered into countless dark-red specks of light, which rapidly extinguished themselves in the torrential rain.

Rocks' battered body lost its balance.

The cliff beneath his feet collapsed completely.

The sea emperor of his generation, like a worn-out rag doll, plunged straight into the bottomless Grand Canyon and fell into the churning black currents. He did not even raise a splash.

At the edge of the coast.

Whitebeard Newgate yanked Murakumogiri from the muddy ground.

The blade carried up a spray of blood that splashed across Whitebeard's white trousers. He raised his thick arm and wiped away the streak of blood on his chin. His crescent-shaped white beard was stained with mud.

He looked at the red light that had vanished from the center of the island.

"The old madman is dead."

Newgate turned around and stopped looking at the pirate underlings still desperately fighting the Marines.

He strode toward a medium-sized warship anchored in the shallows. Two Marine rear admirals tried to stop him. Newgate casually swung the shaft of his blade, and a white vibration halo smashed into their chests. The rear admirals vomited blood and crashed into the sea like broken kites.

"This battered ship is going down."

Newgate grabbed the warship's rope. The veins on his thick arms bulged as he forcibly dragged the several-hundred-ton warship out of the shallows.

Several pirates who followed him hurried aboard. The warship turned around and charged into the storm without looking back.

In midair not far away.

Golden Lion Shiki spat out the half of his cigar he had been biting. The cigar fell into the seawater and went out with a hiss.

The right side of his face had been blasted apart by Rektol's lightning. It was covered with a strip of tattered cloth he had torn off casually. Blood seeped through the cloth and dripped down from his chin.

"Useless! You're all a bunch of useless trash!"

Shiki cursed furiously through clenched teeth.

He abruptly raised both hands. The Float-Float Fruit's power activated.

The three pirate ships at the shore, along with everyone aboard them, were lifted straight into the air. The wooden hulls swayed violently in midair, and the pirates clung desperately to the masts in terror.

Shiki stepped onto the figurehead of one of the ships and controlled it as it flew into the sky, passing directly over the Marine blockade.

Elsewhere.

Ochoku and Silver Axe did not exchange a single unnecessary word.

The two of them seized a merchant ship anchored in a secluded cove. They cut down several of their comrades who tried to board, raised every sail, and fled.

When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter.

The Rocks Pirates, once arrogant and invincible on the sea, fell apart in an instant. Everyone desperately fled the collapsing island for their own lives.

Out on the sea.

The Marine encirclement began to tighten rapidly.

Dozens of warships formed a semicircle, completely blocking the main harbor of God Valley.

At the bow of the flagship.

Sengoku pushed up the frog glasses on the bridge of his nose. The lenses were covered in rainwater.

The heavy rain had soaked through his white coat of justice, which clung tightly to his back.

He watched the remnants of the Rocks Pirates fleeing in all directions but did not order a pursuit. He knew very well that the Marines' current forces could not swallow so many mad monsters.

Sengoku raised his right hand.

His fingers paused in midair for half a second before he swung his hand forcefully downward.

"All ships, listen up!" Sengoku's voice carried through the loudspeaker Den Den Mushi and spread across every warship. "Target: God Valley. Open fire!"

The harsh grinding of mechanical gears joined together across the sea.

Hundreds of heavy cannons adjusted their elevation. Every black muzzle aimed at the island that was rapidly sinking.

The fuses were lit. The pungent smell of gunpowder instantly overwhelmed the salty stench of the sea breeze.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!"

The dense artillery fire was like a rain of black meteors, tearing through the leaden-gray clouds.

The shells smashed into God Valley's coastline. Flames soared into the sky. The beach was blasted into deep craters more than a dozen meters wide. Vast numbers of coconut trees were uprooted and blown into burning chunks of wood in midair.

The bombardment did not stop. Instead, it grew denser and denser.

The island's foundations had already been completely destroyed by the collision of Conqueror's Haki and the tearing apart of the Grand Canyon. Now, with the addition of this devastating bombardment, the strata of God Valley let out a deep, mournful groan.

The coastline began collapsing on a massive scale. Soil and rocks mixed with charred trees and slid madly into the sea.

The seawater boiled.

Hundreds-of-meters-high waves poured through the collapsed opening and flooded into the island's interior.

Underground treasury.

The fissure continued widening. Rocks fell from overhead like raindrops, striking the floor tiles and the metal chests with clanging noises.

A stream of icy seawater seeped through the cracks in the stone walls.

The flow grew larger and larger, soon forming ankle-deep puddles across the bluestone floor. Several scattered ancient parchments floated in the puddles, their ink dissolving in the seawater until it became blurred and indistinct.

Saint Garling lay in the puddle.

He clutched his severed left arm. Blood loss and the tremors caused by the breaking rock strata had made him pass out long ago.

The only remaining piece of his broken mask floated in the muddy water, like a shattered piece of discarded porcelain.

Rektol stood in seawater reaching his ankles. The icy current washed around his military boots.

He withdrew his right hand, which had been held loosely in midair.

"Crackle."

The two-meter-long Thunder Greatsword shrank and narrowed in the air, finally transforming into a faint strand of blue static that burrowed back into his palm.

Rektol paid no attention to Garling, who lay in the water.

The island was collapsing.

The thunderous roar of seawater pouring in could already be heard through the cracks overhead. The island was about to sink completely beneath the sea.

Rektol withdrew the Lightning Sword.

He looked at the gold and ancient relics scattered across the ground, then turned and issued Cracker and Katakuri their final order: "Pack it up. We're leaving."