Chapter 91 – Lightning Mark Mutation
"Deep breath…"
Tachibana Kyūjō channeled the refined flow of his Lightning Breathing ver. 3.0, now second nature to him. Gathering every ounce of his power, he inhaled deeply into his lungs.
In that instant, lightning sparked from within. It coursed through his blood vessels, surged into his muscle fibers, danced across his skin, and finally spread toward his face—
Then, his eyes opened slowly, calm and steady.
A delicate web-like pattern of lightning had formed across his forehead and around both eyes. It was symmetrical and precise, glowing faintly with a quiet, deep intensity.
Even under the midday sun, the light from his eyes shone bright—unmistakably radiant.
Yet despite the spectacle, Kyūjō merely shook his head with a faint grimace.
"Looks impressive…" he muttered internally. "But the price... is life itself."
He was twenty-nine this year.
And anyone who tried to awaken the Mark after the age of twenty-five knew exactly what fate awaited them—
Death.
This battle might be the final spark of Tachibana Kyūjō's life in the pirate world.
One last flash that could burn everything down.
A quiet sigh echoed within him. Why wasn't I born with a natural Mark…?
Hina... my love…
And you… my loyal partner… Rairyūken…
Will you all leave me behind… too?
But before he could get lost in sentiment, something unexpected happened.
A glowing blue entity—formless, pure energy—suddenly erupted from his pressure-loaded heart, bursting forward with violent intensity.
Without hesitation, the entity shot straight into Kyūjō's eyes—those lightning-charged, burning eyes.
As it merged into him, the wild bursts of lightning dancing around his body began to vanish.
The storm faded, drawn back into his body like a beast retreating to its den.
Now, only the luminous patterns on his forehead and the deep, electric glint in his eyes remained—radiating a quiet, deadly calm.
His pupils sharpened instantly.
But there was no time to contemplate.
Kyūjō focused the immense, seemingly endless surge of power inside him and channeled it directly into Rairyūken—his long blade now completely cloaked in crackling lightning.
As he swung the blade down—
He felt it.
Something different.
A sensation unlike anything before.
It wasn't the sense of dominating another being or surpassing his limits.
No… it was as if he could control something far greater.
Particles. Electrons. Electromagnetic fields.
The very essence of lightning now bent to his will.
With the sensory acceleration granted by the Infinity system, Kyūjō quickly connected the dots.
That blue energy—if his guess was right—was Donar, the demon once described by Imu.
The sovereign of thunder.
The demonic will that had become the Goro Goro no Mi.
And now… that entity had taken residence within his eyes?
Kyūjō shook his head. He couldn't be sure. There was no time to dig deeper.
He simply raised Rairyūken—now blazing with raw electrical force—and, without a word, swung it with devastating precision toward Azazel, who stood in his path!
— — —
Meanwhile, far from the main battlefield where Kyūjō and Azazel clashed...
At the edge of Mariejois port, chaos had fully erupted into war.
Former Fleet Admiral Kong, voice ragged and desperate, was still shouting, trying to persuade Sengoku to retreat.
And yet, he stood at the front line—alone—holding back his former comrades.
Sengoku. Garp. Zephyr. Tsuru. Even Kuzan, once just a child, now a sharp-edged soldier of ice.
"Sengoku! Garp! What are you doing?! Pull your troops back, now!"
"If you wait too long… you'll regret this!!"
"You don't know the full truth behind this world! Now is not the time for debate! Please, fall back—"
But Sengoku only stared at his former commander, unwavering.
The arrow had been loosed. There was no turning back.
Sengoku was not a man who hesitated halfway through.
He had already betrayed the system. He was fully prepared to face the consequences.
Order everyone to retreat now? And let the World Government drag them to trial later?
No.
He wasn't that foolish.
Sengoku was smart enough to know what Kong truly feared.
Likely… it was the figure behind the World Government. The one most Marines had never even heard of.
But while Kong feared the shadow behind the throne...
Sengoku chose to believe in Kyūjō.
Rather than trust ancient myths and legends buried behind centuries of tyranny…
He'd rather place his faith in the overwhelming, undeniable power Kyūjō had shown before his own eyes.
Besides, what choice did he have?
If they let this moment pass, he doubted they'd ever get another chance to overthrow this broken system.
To bring justice that went beyond the empty words they'd repeated for decades.
And more than that... Sengoku was simply tired of waiting.
Whether Kyūjō needed help or not, whether the Marines made a difference or not...
They would stand with him.
That was the true duty of the Navy.
Even if countless young lives were lost today—even if blood flooded the very earth beneath Mariejois—
Sengoku would still say it:
"For justice... every sacrifice is worth it."
— — —
Elsewhere, the Marines were pushing deeper into Mariejois.
The elite guards of the World Government were slowly being pushed back.
Victory felt close.
But then... a strange gate appeared in the inner palace wall.
And from it stepped Saint Figarland Garling, leading the Knights of God—the secret holy order known only to the highest echelons of power.
Instantly, Sengoku and Garp exchanged looks. Their faces turned grim.
Though the Marines held the advantage now, they knew better than anyone…
The true strength of the World Government didn't lie in numbers.
It lay in what had remained hidden for centuries.
They'd gotten this far only because the Five Elders were dead—no one left to command the world's defenses.
But now...
Someone had returned to fill that void—teleported via the Door-Door Fruit.
And worse still...
He hadn't come alone.
Garling had brought a force capable of turning the entire tide of the war.
Both Sengoku and Garp whispered the name at once in their hearts:
"Knights of God…"
Veterans of the God Valley Incident, they knew the weight that name carried.
Some faces were new.
But the leader… remained the same.
Figarland Garling.
A legendary swordsman whose power had reached the level of a King even in their youth.
But before they could engage him—
A colossal explosion echoed from the center of Mariejois.
The ground shook. The sky trembled.
Every eye instinctively turned toward the source—
A flash of light, like judgment itself, tearing down from the heavens.
And with it…
The battle was far from over.
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