Momonosuke trembled violently, his severed tail dripping thick mucus—a nauseating mixture of blood and fat—revealing just how grievously wounded he was.
Overhead, thunderclouds on Onigashima churned in sync with his panic, converging into a single, massive bolt—as thick as a water barrel—striking the dragon's skull with cataclysmic force.
"AOOO!"
A roar of equal parts agony and ecstasy tore from Momonosuke's throat. He convulsed violently, slamming his right front claw into the broken tail stump.
Gripping something within, he yanked outward—screaming as a torrential rain of gore and fat erupted.
Below his front claws, Momonosuke's body collapsed lifelessly—revealing that he had ripped out his own spinal column.
From the jagged vertebrae rose a ten-meter-long Sakura Blade, pointing unhindered at Roya's direction.
The sword glimmered with pink electric sparks. Petal-like Sakura petals drifted along its edge—ethereal and hauntingly beautiful in an unnatural way.
"DIE!"
Seething with fury, Momonosuke slashed downward with the blade. From the Sakura Sword surged a massive wave of cutting energy—over a hundred meters long and ten wide—directed at Roya.
Roya sneered coldly:
"I thought your ultimate trick might be strong. But in the end, you still can't escape being a self-serving coward."
With that, he gestured—and suddenly a terrifying sword energy slash tore through space over from Wano's northwest—shattering the earth, streaking horizontally across the sky toward Onigashima.
Even in darkness, the slash shone with an unearthly brilliance.
It reached the banquet platform in an instant, extinguishing every fire as it passed.
With a crack, the slash pierced straight into Momonosuke's left eye. Momentum carried his remaining body—ripping it into Onigashima's iconic skull structure.
CRACK!
The dark blade—Shūsui, once used to kill the Sakura Dragon before—drove itself like a giant black stake, embedding the dragon's remains deeply into the skull.
Momonosuke's own cutting sword vanished without trace. The Sakura Blade fell, landing neatly before Roya.
Its length shrank to fit human hands—sleek, powerful, and unmistakably legendary.
Every samurai present froze, captivated. Greed sparked in their eyes.
But Roya simply snorted.
Enabling his Observation-Haki, he cleared the air of any mental influence the sword might project across the weak-willed.
Calmly said:
"You really thought I couldn't see past your Houdini escape trick?"
He lifted his foot, kicking the Sakura Blade deftly.
It pierced Momonosuke's dragon skull again—this time into the right eye.
Black electricity surged from Shūsui, exploding outward from his mind.
The Sakura Blade trembled, sought to escape—but the black lightning bound it, rendering it powerless.
Within moments, the Sakura Dragon's once-vibrant pink shimmer was completely consumed by darkness—extinguished forever.
Meanwhile, the gaze of the skull—its fiery eyeholes—caught flame, setting what remained of Momonosuke's body ablaze.
A towering inferno erupted, and from the scorched mass, the faint outline of the Sakura Dragon flickered before being consumed fully.
Everyone exhaled in silent relief.
Knowing that this creature—reborn and fighting for centuries—was finally dead and beyond resurrection.
And they were grateful it was Roya who remained in control.
Because had anyone else claimed the Sakura Blade, after feeding it enough human flesh, it might have arisen again as another Sakura Dragon.
A shift in scene.
A formal announcement:
"Princess Hiyori will assume the position of Shogun of Wano. Roya formally accepts Wano into his protection!"
"Kaido disbands the Beasts Pirates. The era of the Yonko is definitively over."
"Charlotte Linlin now declares Roya to be the true King of the Seas!"
An elderly reporter flung down his newspaper in fury:
"This news outlet is getting out of control—how dare they report such sensitive royal news without permission?!"
Another man replied icily:
"Just pick some minor country, issue a few demon-hunting decrees—people will fall in line."
A blonde-aged reporter retorted:
"It's too late! We need to remove Roya before Im-sama takes notice—or it could be disastrous!"
And at the mention of Imu-sama, the expression in the room changed.
The Five Elders rose in unison, their once-aloof gazes lowered in reverence toward some unseen presence.
Moments later, the transmission ended. But their faces grew even more tensely silent.
The usually reserved Elder Curly mustache sank to his chair, legs trembling:
"What are we to do? Im-sama summoned us—surely it concerns Roya. His existence breaks the balance Im-sama entrusted to us!"
"From the Sabaody Archipelago to Marine HQ and now Wano—we're losing manpower and resources. Our world influence is waning!"
"If Imu-sama calls us to account… what will become of us?!"
The brimmed-hat Elder steeled himself:
"First, we must bow before Imu-sama. Perhaps he will decree how to handle this Roya."
"Remember—when Roger was Pirate King, Im-sama plainly said Roger was already terminally ill…"
The others gathered their resolve and proceeded deeper into Pangaea Castle—toward the heart of the Flower Throne.
Moving inward, signs of life vanished.
Once inside the domain of Imu-sama's Void Throne, ambient vitality collapsed. Only an overwhelming aura of deathly silence remained.
The Five Elders approached the colossal throne—a shape both consumed by void and the void itself—and knelt:
"All Hail Imu-sama."
A powerful psychic wave pulsed from the throne, colliding with each of the Elders.
Even seconds of contact drenched them in cold sweat. Their clothes soaked. Visions flashed—terrifying apparitions nearly shattered their sanity.
But they endured—even resisting trembling—all because:
This was Imu-sama's spiritual whip.
The pain, though brief, felt to them like an entire century.