With a single move, Joy Boy temporarily forced back both Garp and Rocks. The hand he was grasping suddenly rose, and Carl was flung high into the sky.
Countless needle-like beams of white light surged from all directions, rapidly converging on Carl until they formed a brilliant white orb that enveloped him completely.
The intense power of Nika continued to press down on Carl's body. His blood boiled, muscles bulged, and his strength exploded in response.
Letting out a low growl, Carl's overwhelming physical power burst forth. In an instant, he broke free from the invisible grip that held him. A torrent of darkness surged from his body, and from the outside, it looked as though the white orb had ignited into a blazing inferno of black flames.
Joy Boy calmly clapped his hands. Behind him, a colossal apparition appeared, clearly shaped in his own likeness.
The phantom stretched out a massive hand and grasped the flaming orb in its palm. Then, with a firm squeeze, the black fire vanished into drifting black mist.
Inside the orb, Carl's body trembled. A thread of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. He casually wiped it with the back of his hand, then raised the corner of his lips into a sinister grin.
"Haven't bled like that in a long time..."
As he spoke, thin streams of black mist leaked from the corners of his eyes. A terrifying gravitational pull erupted from his body, filling the air with cracks of swirling darkness. Waves of destruction began to ripple outward.
Just as Carl prepared to unleash his power and shatter the damned light orb, a golden sphere of lightning suddenly appeared in the air above him. Sensing it, Carl halted for a moment. At first, he thought Joy Boy was pulling another trick—but almost immediately, he dismissed the thought. That aura... it was far too familiar.
It belonged to Imu.
Joy Boy also looked up at the golden lightning sphere above. He tilted his head slightly, clearly unsure of what it was or why it had appeared.
The next instant, as Joy Boy was still pondering, a thick bolt of golden lightning burst from the sphere and struck the phantom's hand—the one holding Carl.
With a flash and a crack, the phantom's hand dissolved into white smoke and scattered. But the golden sphere didn't vanish. As Carl shot out from the smoke, the lightning sphere trembled, then suddenly expanded and came crashing down toward Joy Boy with devastating momentum.
Joy Boy raised a finger. A wall of compressed air materialized above him. The golden sphere struck it and exploded in a thunderous blast. Golden lightning scattered in every direction, turning the entire sky into a sea of gold.
Had they not been in the empty expanse of the upper atmosphere, that single strike could have erased an entire nation.
...
At the center of the explosion, Joy Boy's body shimmered with light. The giant phantom behind him shielded him, absorbing the lightning assault from all sides.
When the golden storm finally subsided, arcs of lightning still crackled through the air. The phantom behind Joy Boy had become faint and blurry, as if it might vanish at any moment.
Joy Boy began to rise slowly, the golden lightning dissipating around him before it could touch him. He didn't glance at Carl. Instead, he looked around, finally turning his gaze toward the Red Line—specifically, deep within Mary Geoise.
His featureless face trembled. The voice that emerged held no sorrow or joy—devoid of all human emotion.
"Which of the original twenty are you?"
No answer came.
The only response was a second golden sphere of lightning forming in the sky.
Joy Boy, now familiar with its power, turned and struck it with an invisible punch before it could fully form, dispersing it instantly.
He spoke again.
"Still hiding?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Joy Boy transformed into a streak of white light and shot toward Mary Geoise. But Carl would never let him reach it so easily. Under the horrified gazes of the Celestial Dragons, Carl intercepted him in midair.
Eight massive dark tendrils surged from Carl's back, blocking Joy Boy's path. Without even turning, Joy Boy reached out and crushed them into a clump of pitch-black matter.
Carl followed up with an even greater surge of darkness, crashing straight into Joy Boy.
Darkness exploded, intertwining with the milky-white power of Nika.
...
Above Mary Geoise, the sky flickered between night and day. Black-and-red Conqueror's Haki crackled across the heavens. Many Celestial Dragons fainted on the spot. The well-dressed guards surrounding them offered no sense of security at all.
In truth, even those guards—trained by the World Government—were trembling in fear. Though considered superhuman by ordinary standards, the battle above had already transcended their comprehension. A mere sliver of energy leaking from it could have killed them outright.
But over on the Figarland side, the golden-armored guards remained calm. Their formation held steady, shielding their family without the slightest disarray.
Shalria pressed her lips together tightly, gazing upward at the apocalyptic scene. Her heart longed to pray for Carl—but she knew that thought was laughable.
What Carl had displayed... already surpassed what anyone could imagine. If gods truly existed, then Carl might just be one of them.
...
With neither Carl nor Joy Boy reappearing for some time, the impatient Sugar couldn't help but try to fly up and see what was happening. But just as she moved, Monet grabbed her.
In a rare moment of sternness, Monet glared at her and scolded,
"Don't go up there and cause trouble! Without his protection, we wouldn't even be qualified to witness this kind of battle!"
At this critical moment, Monet radiated the authority of an elder sister. Sugar's elemental form dissipated involuntarily. She pouted, clearly feeling wronged.
"Sis, I just want to check if he's okay..."
Monet's expression softened. She reached out and gently stroked Sugar's head, her voice resolute.
"No need to check. He is the strongest. No one can defeat him."
...
Meanwhile, in the Flower Room,
Imu slowly rose from the Empty Throne. From within her oversized sleeves, a pair of pale, flawless hands emerged—still laced with fine arcs of golden lightning.
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+150 chapters on p@treon/tambeerg