"How about it, Saint Charlos? Now you are the one kneeling," Thorne Ashveil said calmly, his voice carrying a faint edge of disdain.
"Bastard! Scum! Guards! My escorts, kill this low-class trash for me!" Saint Charlos roared, spittle flying as he struggled to move. Yet no matter how much he tried, the invisible pressure weighing on his body kept him locked in place.
Compared to him, Rosward and Shalria—his father and sister—were far sharper. They had already suffered humiliation on Sabaody Archipelago. They knew this world was far more dangerous than their pampered lives suggested, and not everyone would bow to their so-called divine status.
Moreover, there was already a terrifying precedent—the Celestial Dragon once slain by the World Destroyer, Brynndi.
Though Ashveil appeared laid-back, the aura rolling off him was nothing to scoff at. He radiated the kind of danger that made even the strongest hesitate.
"One of you three will die," Ashveil said evenly, his tone as calm as if he were commenting on the weather.
The words sent chills crawling up Rosward's and Shalria's spines. Already reeling from the oppressive wave of Conqueror's Haki, their faces turned deathly pale.
Both cursed Charlos inwardly. You idiot! Why did you have to provoke this man?!
Here was someone who, with a mere flick of his will, forced thousands to their knees. His relaxed demeanor only amplified the terror he inspired. This was no ordinary pirate, but a monster far beyond what had stormed the auction house years ago.
Their pride as Celestial Dragons shattered. Terrified beyond reason, Rosward and Shalria collapsed to the ground, trembling.
"No… don't kill me!" the two cried out in unison, their voices thick with desperation.
Their son and brother, Saint Charlos, stood dumbfounded. His nose ran, his lips trembled, unable to comprehend what he was witnessing.
"Father? Sister? What are you doing? He's just a lowly human! Not even as noble as the beasts in my villa!" Charlos spat, but they ignored him completely.
It wasn't the crushing force of Ashveil's Conqueror's Haki that made them bow—it was pure, suffocating fear.
Ashveil looked at Charlos and felt no pity, no anger, not even a flicker of emotion—only the faint urge to laugh at his ignorance.
What a fool.
Buzz…
The wave of Haki intensified. Rosward and Shalria shuddered violently, their eyes rolling back as they collapsed into unconsciousness. Marines caught in the same storm crumpled like rag dolls, littering the ground in silence.
Then, suddenly, the weight on Charlos lifted. He blinked in surprise and staggered to his feet.
Ashveil had released him deliberately.
"Father? Sister? Why are you lying there?" Charlos crowed, laughing with manic triumph. "His power doesn't affect me! I'm stronger than you! Stronger than you, hahahaha!"
Dancing in delight, he snatched up a golden pistol from the ground and leveled it at Ashveil once again.
"Lowly human, unforgivable! I'll execute you myself! Why aren't you kneeling?!" Charlos shouted, face twisted with arrogance.
Above, journalists of the World Economy News were stunned. Cameras zoomed in, lenses whirring.
"What is Ashveil planning?" one whispered.
"Why did Saint Charlos stand up? Could he have some special resistance to Haki?" another speculated.
All eyes locked on Ashveil. His lips curled into a faint smile.
"The reason I didn't suppress you, Charlos, is simple. Only this way can you truly feel pain."
Fear usually drowned out pain when a victim was caught in the grip of Conqueror's Haki. But without that fear, pain struck in full force.
The implications of Ashveil's words rippled through the crowd. Even the stoic Tyrant Kuma's eyes flickered with shock.
On Whitebeard's ship, Ashveil had seemed carefree, approachable. But here, in his true nature, he revealed himself to be a beast in human skin—terrifying and merciless.
If such a man were ever to join the Marines, the Revolutionary Army would be crushed under the weight of his power. Fortunately, for now, their enemies were the same.
Nearby, Urouge trembled. He had faced strong men before, but nothing compared to this. The monsters of the New World were on an entirely different level.
And Ashveil stood among them.
"What? Feel pain? You stupid commoner!" Charlos sneered, lifting his pistol. "This golden bullet will finish you!"
Bang!
The shot cracked through the air, the bullet flashing toward Ashveil's forehead.
Kuma remained calm—he knew such an attack was meaningless against Ashveil.
Sure enough, the bullet halted midair, crumbled, and scattered into glittering dust before it could even reach him.
Urouge's eyes bulged. This bizarre, overwhelming defense was unlike anything he had ever seen.
High above, Ashveil's Conqueror's Haki surged again. Blades of shimmering energy formed out of thin air—dozens, then hundreds. Their sharp tips hovered in the sky, all pointed directly at Saint Charlos like the scythes of death itself.
Charlos froze. His golden bullet had failed, and now the heavens themselves threatened to pierce him.
"What are you doing?! I am a Celestial Dragon! A descendant of God!" His voice cracked, shrill with desperation. "If you kill me, the Marines will execute you! Do you hear me?! The Marines will kill you!"
But his words carried no weight. Kuma and Urouge only watched silently, their eyes regarding Charlos as though he were already dead.
They knew Ashveil would not hesitate.
Whoosh!
The flying blades cut through the air, streaking toward Charlos.
His wide, terrified eyes reflected only the phantom light of countless knives.
Never in his wildest imagination had he thought a day like this would come—where a "commoner" dared to lay hands on a Celestial Dragon.
And yet, here it was.
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