[D.S] Ch 11~15

11: Destroy the World?

— — — — — — 

In one of the East Blue kingdoms, Shion and Hakuro walked side by side through a supposedly "prosperous" city.

"So these are the nobles Rimuru-sama was talking about?" Shion's face darkened. Not far ahead, a noble was lashing a civilian with his riding crop, screaming insults as the man bled.

The victim bowed over and over, apologizing desperately, too afraid to resist.

And the onlookers only clenched their fists in anger; none dared step forward as the noble's guards stood close by, a silent threat.

"Trash like that doesn't deserve to live in this world," Shion growled. She took a deep breath, then looked at Hakuro. "Let's start by liberating this kingdom."

"No objection," Hakuro replied calmly. But the cold fire in his eyes could have frozen anyone's blood.

"You filthy commoner," the noble sneered. "Daring to block my path? I'll make sure you learn your place." He raised his whip again—

Crack!

Shion's kick sent him flying. A second later, his body was embedded in the wall of a nearby house.

"D-did she just hit a noble?"

"This has to be a joke!"

"She's insane! Striking a noble is a criminal offense—she'll be executed!"

The crowd stared in shock. No one in living memory had ever dared touch the upper class in public. He might not have been a World Noble—a Celestial Dragon—but he was still a noble of this country.

"Seize her!" the guards shouted, finally shaken into action. They rushed at Shion with weapons drawn.

Shion didn't even glance at them. Hakuro stepped forward instead. With an almost lazy grace, he drew his sword. One flicker of movement later, every guard collapsed at his feet.

"Enough delay," Hakuro sheathed his sword and looked toward the palace. "Let's take control of the king."

"Right. Maybe Rimuru-sama will praise us for finishing quickly." Shion's eyes gleamed with excitement as she gazed at the distant castle.

Their plan to overthrow the World Government wasn't complicated. For countries rotten to the core, brute force would topple their rulers. For nations that still had hope, they would use diplomacy, draw them in if possible, or at least establish friendly ties.

Meanwhile, others monitored the Government and Navy, intercepting aid, weakening their reach, and winning over the good-hearted inside their ranks.

Finally, Roger and Whitebeard were tasked with gathering good pirate crews, rallying support for the cause.

---

At this time.... Across the West Blue, North Blue, South Blue, the first half of the Grand Line, and even the New World—the same kind of uprisings had begun.

"What… what kind of monster is that?" A soldier, drenched in blood, trembled as he looked skyward.

Veldora had taken on his True Dragon form, his colossal wings blotting out the sun, plunging the city into darkness.

With casual ease, he crushed the king in his claws. Then, turning to the stunned populace below, he declared, "I am the Storm Dragon, Veldora Tempest. From this day forward, this country is mine."

...

Elsewhere, in another kingdom's throne room—

"This is supposed to be a king?" Milim scoffed, lifting the fat monarch off his throne with one hand. "He's not just ugly, he's a slob. Hey, listen up, idiot! I'm Milim Nava, the greatest of Demon Lords. Starting today, this kingdom belongs to me. Got it?"

The king shrieked. "Y-you can't do this! I'm under the protection of the World Government! Defy me, and you'll be crushed! But… if you beg me nicely, I might take you as my sixth wife. How about it?" His fear twisted into arrogance, as though he were the one doing her a favor.

Milim blinked. Was this buffoon for real? Her frown deepened. Without another word, she punched him. The impact launched him through dozens of walls before his body disappeared into the rubble, fate uncertain.

"Whatever. Not like I expected him to agree." She stretched with a yawn. "This way's faster anyway. Hehe! If I end up conquering the most countries, Rimuru will totally praise me. And then—tons and tons of candy and new games! Yep, that's the plan. Go me! Milim's the best! Milim's invincible!"

The soldiers who had been pretending to play dead watched her in horror. A moment ago she looked furious, now she was cheering herself on like a kid. None of them understood what was happening, but one thought echoed in their heads: 'Just stay down. Don't move. Don't breathe.'

Milim stomped her foot. "Hey! How long are you losers planning to lie there? Even if you're playing dead, at least act like pros about it! Do you really think you can fool me? I can hear your hearts beating, you know."

Her eyes lit up. "Up! All of you! Or I'll hand out free punches!"

"I-I'm up!"

"Me too!"

"...I was checking the temperature of the ground."

"We are up, ma'am."

Soldiers scrambled to their feet, tripping over each other.

Why waste brainpower when raw strength solved everything? That was Milim's life philosophy.

— — — 

On top of the Red Line - Mary Geoise

"Damn it… damn it all!" One of the Five Elders slammed a fist against the table, his composure completely gone. The others wore equally grim expressions.

"Where did these people even come from? Why have we never heard of them before?" Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, the sword-bearing Elder, muttered. His voice was calm, but the fury lacing it sent a chill through the room.

"We couldn't find anything," reported a man clad in black, bowing low. "It's as if they appeared out of thin air. We have no record of their origins."

"Then what the hell are we paying you dogs for?" Saint
Shepherd Ju Peter sneered, leaning back against the wall. "When it's time to run, you're faster than anyone. But when it's time to give us answers, suddenly you're useless. What, did you burn all that funding we gave you?"

Cold sweat dripped down the black-clad man's face, his body trembling.

"Enough. Blaming him won't solve anything." Saint Topman Warcury sighed. "The problem is, more than ten nations are in revolt at once. Each invasion is being led by someone ridiculously powerful. Milim Nava resurfaced, along with others—a dragon the size of a mountain, a swordmaster of terrifying skill, some pig-headed monstrosity… it's one bizarre powerhouse after another. Who are these people, and why are they openly declaring war on us?"

Silence fell again. Each Elder was thinking the same thing. One strong enemy was nothing to the World Government. Even a hundred scattered across the seas posed no real threat. But a hundred strong enemies united? That was the nightmare scenario—the kind that could shake the Government to its very core. Judging by what they'd seen, this was no loose collection of outlaws. This was an organized force, one that could rival them.

Buru buru buru…

The sharp trill of a Den Den Mushi shattered the heavy atmosphere.

Saint Jaygarcia Saturn picked it up. 

As the voice on the other end spoke, his face darkened more and more until, at the final word, he crushed the Den Den Mushi in his hand. His aura exploded, suffocating the room.

"What happened?" Saint Marcus Mars asked cautiously.

"Roger," Saturn spat through gritted teeth. "He's back. And he's allied with Whitebeard. They've rallied a fleet of pirates—Shiki, Redfield, and more. Dozens of top-tier monsters are joining forces. They really mean to destroy the world itself!"

The words froze the room. Then Warcury gave a sore laugh. "Destroy the world? No… they mean to destroy the Celestial Dragons."

"Then there's no choice. We must consult Lord Imu."

No one disagreed. Without another word, the Five Elders rose and filed silently from the chamber.

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12: A World Built by Traitors

— — — — — — 

Meanwhile, in the New World—on a seemingly insignificant island—a storm of power was gathering.

Chosen Pirates from every corner had assembled, but all eyes were fixed on the four figures atop the stage: 'Pirate King' Gol D. Roger, 'the world's strongest man' Whitebeard, 'the Golden Lion' Shiki, and 'Red the Aloof' Patrick Redfield.

Roger stood tall, his voice steady but commanding. "Thank you all for coming. I called you here for one reason. I need your help."

He let the silence stretch, then dropped the bomb. "We're going to overthrow the World Government."

The crowd erupted. Even these battle-hardened pirates, men who feared nothing on land or sea, gawked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Roger!" a pirate bellowed from the crowd. "I don't mean to underestimate us, but you know how strong the Government is. We don't have the numbers to make a dent in them, let alone topple them!"

Shouts of agreement rippled through the mob. Eight hundred years of unshakable rule weighed heavily on everyone's mind.

"Quiet."

Whitebeard's voice thundered like an earthquake, shutting them up instantly. His sheer presence pressed on them like gravity.

When the crowd fell silent, Roger spoke again. "You're right. We can't do it alone. But I've found allies—strong, trustworthy allies. With them at our side, overthrowing the World Government isn't just a dream anymore. If we stand together, we can make it real."

"Why should we care?" another pirate scoffed. "Government falls, I'm still a pirate. What's in it for me?"

Roger's gaze sharpened. "You're really satisfied with just being a pirate? Tell me—why did you take to the seas in the first place? Was it truly because you love being hunted, hated, and despised? Do you want your children and grandchildren to spit on your name, to curse you as nothing but a criminal?"

A heavy silence spread. For all their bravado, the truth hit hard. Very few here had chosen this life willingly. Most had been driven into piracy by circumstance—poverty, persecution, survival. The bloodthirsty maniacs were the minority. Most just wanted freedom, a life worth living without chains.

At last, one pirate called out, voice steady. "Roger… I'll admit, your words stir me. But it's not enough. If you want my blade, then tell us—what is the Pirate King's treasure? What is the One Piece?"

The words electrified the crowd. Every pirate raised their head, eyes burning with hunger. Even Shiki, Whitebeard, and Redfield turned toward Roger with interest. After all, this was the dream they all pursued.

Roger drew in a deep breath."So you want to know? Fine. If that's what it takes, then I'll tell you…"

...

Eight hundred years ago, the world was home to a vast, prosperous kingdom. At the heart of its capital stood a colossal tree that reached the heavens, revered as the Sacred Tree. The city had been built beneath its sheltering branches, and the tree bore countless fruits. Whoever ate them would gain extraordinary abilities.

Thanks to this miraculous tree, the kingdom birthed generation after generation of powerful warriors, growing stronger with each passing age. But disaster always comes without warning.

One day, people from the moon descended. They brought with them technology unlike anything the world had ever seen—unimaginably advanced, devastatingly powerful. Nations began to fall one after another under their onslaught.

It was then that the great kingdom called upon the world. A united summons went out, gathering every nation's strength to stand against the invaders. Though the moonfolk's technology was overwhelming, humanity fought with everything it had. At last, together, they managed to drive them back.

The great kingdom had played the most vital role in this victory. But the price was staggering—nearly every one of its champions was mortally wounded. Of the countless mighty warriors they once had, barely a fraction survived.

And that was when ambition reared its head.

Twenty schemers joined forces. Betraying the very alliance that had saved the world, they turned on the wounded kingdom.

They took the battleships originally built to fight the moonfolk and used them to blast apart the Sacred Tree that had sheltered the kingdom for centuries. With one of the ultimate weapons stolen from the moonfolk, Uranus, they slaughtered what remained of the kingdom's defenders.

The kingdom's injured warriors fought desperately, but they were far too weakened. In the end, they fell.

From beneath the uprooted tree, the leader of the twenty unearthed a fruit that granted him a power so terrifying it seemed hopeless to resist. The traitors hurled the fallen tree's trunk into the sea, crushed every kingdom that opposed them, and forged a new order: the so-called World Government.

They then commanded the erasure of all records, eradicating any trace of the truth and burying history itself beneath lies.

But not everyone perished. One man survived. He sought out his old comrades, and with their help, carved into indestructible stone the truth of what had happened.

To keep it safe from the World Government, he placed the final stone—the one that held the whole story—on an island that could never be found.

To guide the worthy, he created four stones pointing the way, leaving behind the hope that one day someone would uncover the truth, reveal it to the world, and topple the government built on betrayal.

(A/N: Chill, OP fans! Yeah, yeah, I know everything here is totally BS. But hey, no matter how wild our guesses get, only Oda-sensei holds the real answer… for now.)

...

"That's the treasure you've all been chasing," Roger said, his voice heavy. "The truth of history itself."

His words left the gathered pirates in silence.

"So you're saying," one of them finally muttered, "that the World Government was built by traitors? And those so-called Celestial Dragons, with their 'noble bloodlines'—they're nothing more than descendants of backstabbing bastards?"

"Well, isn't that rich." Redfield stroked his chin with a smirk. "The world's been ruled for eight centuries by a pack of traitors. That's irony at its finest."

"Tch. And here I thought those pompous fools were untouchable."

"Haha, 'gods who created this world,' huh? More like mongrels," Shiki scoffed. Even among pirates, betrayal was despised—and these so-called Celestial Dragons had the gall to take pride in being the descendants of traitors?

"When I first uncovered this," Roger admitted, shaking his head, "I was just as shaken as you are. But now you all know what the Pirate King's 'treasure' really is. So tell me—what will you choose? Will you rise up against this so-called World Government, founded by damned traitors, and build a world worth living in? Or will you stay the same, skulking as hunted pirates every day of your lives?"

For a long moment, silence hung in the air. Then voices began to rise, one after another.

"Down with the World Government!"

"Cut down the traitors!"

"I'm here to avenge my family anyway."

"Those bastards are dead!"

"The Celestial Dragons' debt is long overdue!"

As the shouts spread like wildfire, Roger couldn't help but smile. Things were moving exactly as he'd hoped.

Then, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. He turned to see Whitebeard studying him.

"Roger," Whitebeard rumbled, "this fruit you spoke of—the one from under the Sacred Tree. What exactly was it?"

Roger's face hardened. "The Time-Time Fruit… an ability so broken it's almost impossible to counter. There are actually two fruits with the same name, but this one's on a whole other level, a real god-tier. I even suspect the man who ate it never truly died. If he mastered it… he might have reached immortality."

"What?!" xN

Gasps erupted from the men closest to him. If what Roger said was true—if there really was someone who'd lived over eight centuries, wielding dominion over time itself—then they were facing an enemy beyond imagination. Someone nearly unbeatable. 

Just how strong would his Haki be?

"Don't panic," Roger reassured them, though his gaze grew distant. "Someone will deal with him."

"Who?" Whitebeard asked.

"Rimuru's ally," Roger replied. "A man named Guy Crimson. Another Demon Lord."

.

.

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13: The Evolution — Star Slime

— — — — — — 

Tensura - Jura-Tempest Federation

Rimuru sat cross-legged inside a training chamber. The entire room was forged from magisteel, its walls and floor glowing faintly with shifting runes. Overhead, a chandelier crafted from pure crystals radiated soft light.

This chamber could withstand strikes strong enough to level cities—maybe even nukes. More importantly, it contained his power, preventing stray energy from tearing apart the outside world.

Rimuru opened his guild interface, eyes shining as he checked the remaining number of crystals. A thrill of excitement rippled through him.

Pure Crystals. You could earn them by exchanging items infused with energy, completing guild quests, or fighting in the virtual arena. They were the core resource used for boosting, Gachas, and all the guild's high-end systems.

"Hm, one hundred and fifty thousand crystals. That should be enough for one evolution of my Spatial Body." Rimuru muttered to himself, floating slightly as he read the numbers on his panel. "Sure, this Time-Time Fruit is broken beyond belief… but Guy and the others should be able to deal with that guy. Still, can't hurt to prepare. Just in case."

"System, start the evolution!"

Ever since he drew the "Spatial Body" ability from the guild gacha, no one had been able to match his rapid levelling. Then what after the evolution?

Gacha, Dimensional Guild, and many more features...

Rimuru still didn't know the purpose of his system, but the things it gave him were undeniably useful. Just from his very first gacha pull, he had gotten to watch the anime 'That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime.'

Of course, Rimuru didn't believe he was just a fictional character. Simply feeling and living like this was proof enough for him to know he was he.

[Spatial Body: The body's cells evolve into spatial matter.]

[Evolving Spatial Body will cost 100,000 crystals. The process may cause mild discomfort.]

[Proceed?]

"Yes! Quit with the disclaimers already. A little discomfort? Even if it's a hundred times worse, so what? I'm a Demon Lord! No way I'm backing down now. Come on, Rimuru—you've got this. You're the best!"

The instant the command was given, a surge of blinding blue light coiled around Rimuru's body like glowing threads. The immense energy wrapped him completely, forming a massive cocoon radiating with a star-like brilliance.

And then… Rimuru realized he had made the worst decision of his life.

The moment the cocoon sealed shut, his body reverted to slime form—and immediately began splitting apart. Being a slime, his soul and body were one and the same. As his body tore apart, so did his soul. The agony was beyond words. His consciousness blurred and finally slipped into darkness.

Inside the cocoon, his 'Spatial Body' unraveled. Each fragment scattered into countless micro-spaces, every grain like a tiny self-contained world. They drew in torrents of energy, swelling larger and larger. One meter. Ten. A hundred. A thousand. Two thousand. Three… four… and still expanding.

Then, when one of these spaces crossed ten thousand meters in scale, it suddenly imploded into a singularity. A blinding detonation followed, and from that singularity swelled a blazing orb. From egg-sized, to football, to a radiant sphere over a hundred meters wide—shining softly like a newborn star.

A star… within him.

From the outside, the cocoon seemed to shrink, but its radiance grew sharper, dazzling. To those watching, it was as if a whole galaxy shimmered within that fragile shell.

Inside, Rimuru's fragmented form began to coalesce, orbiting around thousands of embryonic stars. Slowly, the stars clustered into ordered constellations, spinning together into star systems.

Suddenly, one system shifted. Its stars reshaped into colossal bookshelves, with a blazing blue star at the center. Tomes materialized out of nothing, slotting neatly into place, forming a boundless astral library.

Elsewhere, three other star systems transformed as well:

One dimmed until its stars glowed black, their light devouring everything around them—like a domain of black holes.

Another shimmered with dreamlike colors, iridescent like bubbles, with spectral forms wandering between reality and illusion: serpents, tigers, werewolves, dragons.

The last glowed with holy gold, untouchable and divine. Countless spectral figures floated there, each extending a golden chain that anchored into the central star.

When all was done, the cocoon finally dissolved. What emerged was not the same Rimuru as before.

A massive slime hovered in the air, its translucent body reflecting a breathtaking night sky within. Stars sparkled faintly inside its gelatinous form.

"Ugh… where am I? What happened?" Rimuru's voice wavered as his consciousness returned. After a long silence, realization struck.

"Wait. Oh, right! I was evolving, and then… I blacked out." His tone shifted into mock annoyance. "Seriously though, the system said 'mild discomfort.' That was torture! I thought I was dying!"

Then he noticed.

"Eh? Hold on… why are there stars inside me? Did I become a Star Slime?" Rimuru tried to scratch his head—then remembered he was still a slime.

He focused on the stars within. The answers came at once.

The God of Wisdom had taken the form of the vast library system.

The God of Gluttony had become the devouring black-hole domain.

The God of Illusion had woven the dreamlike, shifting starfield.

The God of Vows had forged the golden chains of the covenant star system.

And beyond those divine domains, thousands of ordinary star systems rotated calmly inside him. His abilities had ascended to an entirely new level, magnified a hundredfold at least.

But the most shocking part—his powers were no longer separate skills. They had fused seamlessly with his new Star Body, becoming his instincts. Before, he had to evolve each skill step by step. Now? As long as he grew stronger, his powers would evolve with him, infinitely, without the need for crystals at all.

Rimuru marveled at the vast, terrifying force within him. Even so, he knew this was only the beginning. The stars inside him were still small—barely a hundred meters across each. Compared to real celestial bodies, they were nothing.

But one day, he was sure, he would forge stars to rival the universes themselves. One day, he would transcend them, reaching the level of a Cosmic Body. No… beyond that. A World Body.

"What did the evo do?"

[Spatial Body is evolving to Star Body.]

[Current evolution: 0.1%]

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14: The Eve of the Final Battle

— — — — — — 

While Rimuru was gaining more powers, the world of One Piece was undergoing earth-shaking changes.

"What the hell are the Navy doing? Why haven't they sent reinforcements yet? The rebels are practically at the capital's gates!" A furious king shouted at the CP9 agent on the other end of the line.

"The Navy can't help you. They're completely tied down by the pirate union," the CP9 member replied flatly, used to these kinds of desperate calls by now. Over the past few days, rulers from all over the world had been calling in for aid—but there was none to give.

Dozens of nations were being attacked at the same time, while the Navy was locked in a brutal struggle with the pirate alliance led by the likes of Pirate King Roger and Whitebeard. They didn't have the luxury of protecting anyone else.

"You worthless World Government lacke—" The king didn't even finish before the CP9 agent hung up. They could barely protect themselves, much less bother with his whining. Answering at all was already a courtesy.

"Damn it! He dared hang up on me? I'll make them pay for this, I swear it." The king's rage twisted his face as he roared, "And those filthy peasants who dared to rebel—I'll see them all executed!"

"I don't think you'll get the chance."

The voice echoed across the vast hall, freezing the king in place.

"Who's there?!" He shot up from his throne in panic. Before he could even steady himself, a gleaming blade flew across the room, piercing him clean through and nailing his body to the wall.

The king slumped to the floor.

His death marked the fall of yet another kingdom.

Benimaru strode into the hall, sparing only a disdainful glance at the corpse. Without another word, he turned and left.

...

Across the seas, Veldora, Milim, Shion, Hakuro, Geld, Souei, and other top commanders swept through kingdom after kingdom.

Outside of the New World alone, more than thirty nations had already been toppled. Twelve rulers had pledged allegiance to them, and their ranks were growing stronger by the day, momentum unstoppable.

In the New World, almost every pirate alive had joined the alliance. The criminals were killed. More than ninety percent of the kingdoms there had already become their allies.

---

Fish-Man Island — Ryugu Kingdom

"So, King Neptune, what is your decision?" Diablo asked politely, his eyes fixed on the towering fishman before him.

Neptune, still young at the time, shifted uneasily and glanced toward his wife, Queen Otohime.

She gave a quiet nod. Taking a deep breath, Neptune asked, "Can you truly guarantee that we will be treated as equals?"

"Of course," Diablo answered without hesitation. "Every life deserves equal treatment. I promise you—when the new world dawns, merfolk and fish-men will stand alongside all other races, free and equal."

"If you can really make that happen, then Fish-man Island is willing to join you," Queen Otohime said. "But… can you truly keep that promise?"

"We can. And we will." Diablo's answer was firm and unwavering.

Otohime held his gaze in silence for a moment before saying, "We need to discuss this among ourselves. Could you give us some privacy?"

"Of course." Diablo bowed slightly and stepped away to wait.

When he was gone, Neptune turned to his queen. "What do you think? Was he being sincere?"

"Yes," Otohime replied softly. "He wasn't lying."

Neptune frowned, deep in thought. "But if we side with them and they fail… the consequences will be disastrous."

Otohime's voice grew passionate. "And if they succeed, then our people will finally live under the sun, treated as equals with humans. Isn't that the dream we've always held? The Celestial Dragons will never give us that. They never have, and they never will. This is our only chance."

Her words struck deep. Neptune clenched his fists, veins bulging with anger as memories surged forth. "You're right. For years they've oppressed Fish-man Island, kidnapping and selling our people, rejecting every one of our appeals. Every year, hundreds of merfolk are enslaved. Every year, we pay a massive tribute of Heavenly Gold, and in return we get nothing. Not even the dignity of being seen as equals. What is there left to hope for from the World Government?"

With his resolve hardened, Neptune and Otohime approached Diablo once more.

"Lord Diablo," Neptune declared, "Fishman Island will stand with you. We'll fight at your side—so long as you keep your promise."

"You won't regret this decision." Diablo smiled warmly. "This world is about to become something beautiful."

— — —

The Holy Land Mary Geoise, within a vast palace

The Five Elders knelt on the ground, reporting to the figure above them.

"Lord Imu, the situation is critical. The traitors are openly challenging your supreme authority!"

"Uprisings are breaking out across the world," another Elder added. "Our forces are stretched too thin. And now, even commoners are rioting everywhere!"

Each of the Elders spoke in turn, rattling off grim reports. But the figure on the high throne stood in silence, as if their words meant nothing.

Finally, a voice descended from above.

"Prepare."

The Elders immediately fell silent, waiting.

"Summon all the armies. The final battle is about to begin."

"Yes, my lord!" x5

The Five Elders hurried off to gather every remaining army, leaving Imu alone upon the high throne.

"Eight hundred years," Imu murmured. "In all that time, I have never been defeated. This world will forever remain under my rule… for I am God."

...

..

Time passed. Three months slipped by in the blink of an eye. Through relentless struggle, every nation across the seas had been freed. Only one place remained untouched—Mary Geoise, the foul heart of sin and corruption.

"Finally, the last stop! Then I can go home and play games!" Shion stretched lazily on the deck, grinning. After all this fighting, the end was finally in sight.

"Don't celebrate too early," Hakuro said coolly beside her. "Even after this battle, there will be aftermath to deal with. At least another month or two of cleanup."

"Aw, man…" Shion's smile collapsed into a pout. "I just want to go home already. It's been forever since I hugged Rimuru-sama. I miss the feeling so much…" Her cheeks flushed pink as her voice trailed off, clearly lost in thoughts she probably shouldn't be sharing aloud.

"If Lady Shion wishes to return first, it could be arranged," Diablo's voice cut in smoothly. No one even noticed when he had joined them.

Diablo smiled pleasantly. "These trifling matters aren't difficult for me to handle. Of course, all you'd need to do is acknowledge your rightful place… as the second secretary."

"Wha—?!" Shion's face went dark. Planting her fists on her hips, she barked, "Don't underestimate me! I'm a perfectly professional secretary, and I was at Lord Rimuru's side before you ever showed up! I'm the first secretary! You're the second secretary! Got it?!"

Diablo only smiled, unfazed by her outburst. He and Shion got along well enough that these harmless spats had become something of a running joke between them. 

"Enough bickering," Benimaru cut in, walking over with his sword in hand. "Save your breath. We've arrived."

Everyone turned their gaze forward. Countless warships stretched across the horizon, row upon row, the full might of the World Government assembled in one place. Even from a distance, their oppressive presence weighed heavily on the air.

But then, their own champions stepped forward—Roger, Whitebeard, the Redfield, Shiki, Rayleigh—each standing tall, staring down their enemies across the sea.

"Tch. Last desperate struggle," Benimaru muttered with contempt. Then he raised his voice for all to hear. "Your job is only to hold off their elites. Don't overdo it. Just stall them. Got it? Now… prepare to fight!"

"Guess that's our cue."

A familiar, cheerful voice rang out from behind. Turning, they saw Milim, Veldora, and Guy Crimson approaching, power radiating from all three.

"As long as Imu falls, the battle ends," Benimaru reminded them. "No need for pointless losses." Still, as he looked at the two oldest Demon Lords and the Storm Dragon side by side, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Imu. The poor fool was about to get beaten into the ground.

"Relax, relax!" Milim puffed her chest proudly. "That so-called Imu guy? I'll crush him in seconds."

"Let's hope so," Benimaru sighed. "But don't underestimate him. That fruit ability of his should be tricky. Time... anyone who can control time is—"

"Yeah, yeah, just stop nagging!" Milim shot into the sky before he could finish.

"We'll go too," Guy said casually, following after her with Veldora close behind.

Benimaru rubbed his temples. "Please, just let this go smoothly." Drawing a deep breath, he pulled his blade free and raised it high from the prow of his ship, shouting with all his might: "Charge!"

Without words exchanged, the two armies slammed into each other.

The war had begun.

...

High above the battlefield, Garp leapt into the sky, muscles bulging with terrifying power. His fist gathered energy into a colossal shockwave, the kind that could obliterate an entire warship.

"Galaxy Impact!"

The attack hurtled downward—only to smash into a shimmering emerald barrier.

"Multilayer Barrier."

The shield enveloped the entire ship, rippling violently under the impact, but it held firm.

"Vice Admiral Garp," Shion's voice rang out as she strode forward, her blade resting on her shoulder, body glowing with magical power. "This is as far as you go. Your opponent… is me."

"Tch. Annoying." Garp's eyes hardened. The threat radiating from her was no joke.

...

Elsewhere, Whitebeard blasted Sengoku back with a single punch, then sent Kuzan flying with a devastating kick.

"Sengoku, what happened to you? You hit like a child! Go home and drink your milk! Gurarararara~" Whitebeard roared with laughter as he charged forward, quake energy surging into Murakumogiri. He swung with crushing force straight at Sengoku.

"Don't get cocky, old man! You're nothing special. Even toddlers could put up a better fight!" Sengoku spat back, his golden Buddha form now wrapped in a dark haze of Armament Haki. He met Whitebeard's strike head-on, their clash unleashing a shockwave that tore the land apart for miles around. Anyone caught in the blast would be vaporized instantly.

Elsewhere on the field, Kong was intercepted—by none other than Roger himself.

"You bastard! You dare show your face before me?!" Kong's rage erupted, his Haki manifesting like solid armor around him.

"Skyfall!"

The ground shook as Kong launched his full power.

"Oi, oi, oi!" Roger winced, dodging narrowly. "You trying to kill me here?" His grin didn't falter. Thanks to his ability to hear the voice of all things, he managed to slip past the killing blow by the thinnest margin.

"Damn coward! Face me head-on if you have any guts!" Kong bellowed, throwing punch after punch. But every strike met only empty air as Roger danced away at the last second, infuriating him even further.

Meanwhile, deep within the palace of Mary Geoise, the unwelcome guests had arrived.

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15: The eternal words of Tywin Lannister

— — — — — — 

The sound of footsteps echoed through the massive palace halls.

Milim and her two companions strolled inside without the slightest hint of urgency. They didn't look like executioners here to behead the rulers of the world—it was more like they were on a sightseeing trip.

"So, where are those guys hiding?" Milim skipped ahead, cheerful as ever, not a shred of tension in her body.

"This palace really is huge." She craned her neck, staring up. The ceiling towered at least two hundred meters above them. Just building something this extravagant must've cost an impossible fortune.

"Now's not the time to gawk like a tourist," Veldora grumbled. "I was playing my game at home, perfectly happy, then you two drag me here. My rank's gonna tank again for sure." His voice was dripping with despair, as if losing points in his online game was a tragedy worse than death.

Guy shot him a flat look. "With that just-barely-silver account of yours, what's the big deal if you lose a few more?"

That hit a nerve. Veldora flared up instantly. "Do you even know how hard it is to climb to silver? I practiced that role for three whole months! Blood, sweat, and pain! And you—what rank are you? If it's too low, don't say it out loud. You'll disgrace the title of Demon Lord."

"Me? Just a measly Diamond rank," Guy said with a lazy smirk. "But sure, I guess that's still a little higher than… silver."

He gave Veldora a sidelong glance, eyes practically spelling out 'we're not even in the same league.'

"No way…" Veldora froze like he'd turned to stone.

While the two of them bickered (well, mostly Guy enjoying himself), an unwelcome voice cut in.

"Ahem. Don't you think you're being far too casual in front of us?"

The Five Elders sat waiting further ahead, lined up in formation. The killing intent radiating from them was so thick it seemed to coat the entire palace.

"I'll leave these guys to you two." Guy acted like they didn't even exist and kept walking forward.

"Don't worry!" Milim thumped her chest with a grin. "I won't let them bother you."

"Hmph, don't underestimate us," Warcury snapped. 

Guy's expression didn't change. "Even if I ignored you, you're just ants. A mild annoyance at best." He strolled on without a glance.

"Hold it. You don't get to just walk past." Nusjuro glared at Guy, blade already drawn. The others all shifted into combat stances, ready to strike.

Guy didn't stop.

"Then die here!" Nusjuro lunged, his body blurring with afterimages.

"You think you can ignore me?"

Before Nusjuro even registered what happened, a fist filled his vision. A split second later, his body rocketed backward faster than he'd charged forward.

"I'm here, y'know." Veldora retracted his fist and flashed a feral grin at the remaining Elders. Then he charged.

The Elders immediately stiffened. This guy was no joke.

"Super Iron Body!" Saturn roared, his muscles bulging as Armament Haki wrapped his entire frame. He looked like a demon born straight out of hell.

But it didn't matter. The moment he clashed with Veldora, blood spewed from his mouth and his body was hurled dozens of meters away.

The other Elders froze. 

"Interesting," Veldora chuckled. "You actually tried to go head-to-head with me? Must've skipped your meds today."

Nusjuro darted back in using Moonwalk, and Saturn staggered to his feet, blood still dripping. Both looked shaken. For the first time in centuries, they were up against opponents who terrified them.

"Attack!" 

The Elders all surged forward, but none of them dared block Guy's path. Holding back Milim and Veldora was already hopeless enough—splitting their forces further would mean instant death. Whatever fate awaited Guy inside was his problem.

The battle erupted in full force. But it wasn't really a battle—it was a slaughter.

Milim and Veldora tore through them like kids swatting flies. One punch, one Elder. They were blasted back again and again, coughing blood, yet stubbornly forcing themselves upright only to be smashed down again. Not one of them managed to land a decisive hit.

The only "success" was when Nusjuro managed to slice off a single lock of Milim's hair. For that, he got grabbed and pummeled so brutally that the floor was painted red. He collapsed unconscious, twitching in a pool of his own blood.

...

Meanwhile, Guy reached the end of the grand hall. At the far end, high atop a raised platform, a lone figure was waiting for him—watching silently.

"Hmm… so you're their leader? You actually think you can go against a god?" Imu's voice was cold and flat.

Guy couldn't help but laugh. "A god? Don't make me laugh. You're just a pathetic traitor who started believing his own lies." He looked Imu up and down, disappointment flashing in his eyes. At first, he thought this guy might actually have some presence, but now? Just another fool.

At least he will get a new skill soon.

"Huh?"

The word "traitor" made Imu's face twist with rage. His calm composure vanished, replaced by bloodshot eyes and murderous intent that locked squarely onto Guy. "What did you just say?"

"I said traitor. Didn't hear me the first time, trash?" Guy mocked.

"Time Erosion!" Imu roared, throwing out his hand. Golden light erupted, swallowing Guy whole.

"Under the erosion of time, everything becomes weak. You'll wither, decay, and turn to dust. That's the fate of all things." Imu's voice was calm. No one had ever survived this ability.

He didn't even like to use it, just so he could watch the pathetic fools scramble to take his place. Same as when he let Rocks live. Imu wanted entertainment, not to make everything stable or fair. Chaos was far more amusing, but only when he knew this chaos wouldn't harm him. 

Suddenly, his eyes widened in disbelief. "Impossible!"

Guy Crimson walked out of the golden glow completely unharmed. "Sorry to disappoint. I'm a Primordial. This little time trick of yours? It's a joke to me. Pathetic."

This was exactly why he'd chosen to come here with Milim and Veldora—beings who were practically immortal. Unless someone could manipulate millions of years, "time erosion" was useless. And this guy clearly wasn't anywhere close.

Guy vanished and reappeared in front of Imu. A glowing magic circle snapped into place around them.

"Isolated Battlefield!"

An enormous cage covered in glowing runes dropped from the sky, locking the two of them inside.

Imu instantly flickered to another spot, glaring. "What is this?"

"Just a little spell," Guy said casually. "It won't open unless one of us dies. So go on—struggle all you want."

"I am the King. The Creator. I won't lose to a lowly creature like you."

"Time Stop!"

Time stopped. The world froze. Only Imu could move. His body was wrapped in black Armament Haki, hardened into armor. He pounded on Guy with storm-like fists, blow after blow slamming into him.

Seconds later, time flowed again. Imu pulled back, watching. Guy straightened, bloodied but smirking.

"Annoying ability," he muttered, brushing himself off.

Then he grinned. "But hey, that makes it more fun, doesn't it?" His magic power surged, crushing the air. "And a man who says 'I am the king' is no true king. Or that's what Tywin Lannister said in the show."

Imu's Conqueror's Haki erupted in response, colliding with Guy's. The two clashed head-on, shaking the entire space.

Imu was really strong. Eight hundred years of training, combined with that broken time fruit, meant Guy could barely get a counter in. For the first time in ages, he was being pushed back.

What really amazed him was when he cast Time Stop—Imu actually sensed it and canceled the spell. Imu's mastery over time was on a whole different level.

--

Meanwhile, outside, the battlefield had taken a strange turn.

"Hey!" Garp shouted between punches. "What's your name, kid?"

"Shion. Why are you asking? We're enemies, you know!" She parried his strike with her blade, though her movements were losing strength.

"Aw, don't be like that," Garp said cheerfully. "I want to topple the World Government too. Fighting each other's kind of pointless, don't you think? How about we just pretend? Swing at each other a bit, no real harm done."

Shion froze, then hesitated. She didn't answer, but her softened strikes spoke for her. Soon the two of them were throwing punches and slashes that looked deadly but had no bite at all.

...

Another side:

"Hey, Sengoku! I know you didn't drink milk when you were a kid—your mom told me!" Whitebeard laughed, swinging his Katana down. "But at least put some muscle into it! Try to be a man! Gurarara~"

"Dammit, stop going all-out! And quit slipping in those cheap little insults like a slut—if you've got something to say, say it to my face!" Sengoku snarled, barely managing to block the blow. His eye twitched in irritation. Of all people, why the hell did he have to be stuck fighting Whitebeard? That monster never gave him a moment to slack off!

...

"Maybe we should fake it too," Roger suggested to Kong, looking far too relaxed.

Kong's face was stone dark. He stayed silent for a long time before finally grunting a single word. "Fine."

And just like that, two more joined the Slacker's Club.

It's worth noting that the first one to not just join—but actually create—the slacker's club in this battle was Kizaru. He was taking it easy before the fight even started. 

...

But not everyone played along, thou. The CP0 chief and all CP agents fought with fanatic loyalty, refusing to hold back even a little. But against Benimaru and Hakuro, they were completely outmatched. They were beaten black and blue, unable to fight back.

"Black Flame!"

Seizing an opening, Benimaru unleashed his attack. A storm of black fire spread into an inferno, trapping the CP0 chief inside. His screams echoed for only moments before he was reduced to ash.

"Tch." Benimaru slung his blade over his shoulder, glancing at the distant battlefield. "Honestly, with the others' strength, they shouldn't be taking this long. Must be slacking again." He sighed. "Whatever. Let's finish up here first."

The moment his eyes turned, the CP agents around him shivered under his gaze.

"Hope those guys hurry up a little," he muttered.

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