The members of the Red Hair Pirates looked at Shanks, one by one, eager to see if Beckman's realization was correct.
If it were true, the implications were terrifying. A twenty-year-old man was about to face the god of this world. This was history in the making—a dynastic upheaval that occurred once in a millennium.
Shanks smiled faintly, his answer deliberate.
"That's right. Imu is making a move… I only received the news this morning, so there may be some delay. It's possible Imu has already reached Whitebeard Pirates' territory," Shanks said, lowering his voice with a grim expression.
A collective gasp ran through the crew. Though they had suspected something, the revelation still shocked them. This was top-secret, monumental information. If leaked to a News Agency, it would be worth at least a hundred billion Berries.
Silence fell over the Red Hair Pirates as they absorbed the gravity of the news.
Shanks' voice cut through the quiet.
"A war that will shake the entire world is about to begin."
---
At the Whitebeard Pirates' base, many members were still recovering from yesterday's celebrations, nursing hangovers from half a day of drinking. Most hadn't even risen yet.
Yet Ashveil's laborers were already awake. After all, they were prisoners of the Whitebeard Pirates.
Ashveil's rules were strict: every prisoner had to rise at 5 AM, complete their assigned daily work, and anyone falling behind would be forced to work overtime.
Some prisoners had grown accustomed to this routine. Figures like Iron Fist Garp even enjoyed the physical challenge, treating it as a form of training.
But one individual was entirely unaccustomed: Sword Saint Bickley, newly captured yesterday.
Bickley's head remained swollen, his expression one of utter bewilderment. As a high-ranking Celestial Dragon, he was used to being pampered, served, and assisted throughout the day. Yet now, he was woken early, handed a shovel, and sent to labor.
Sleepy and frustrated, Bickley forced himself to move with exaggerated energy. If he didn't comply, he feared the punishment that would follow. His face was still recovering from the swelling, and he wanted no further humiliations.
A twinge of nostalgia hit him. He longed for his past life of luxury and freedom and constantly contemplated escape. With his immense strength—even shackled with Seastone—he could easily flee, provided Ashveil wasn't present.
But Ashveil rarely left his domain. Convincing him to step outside the Whitebeard Pirates' territory was harder than killing him.
Bickley groaned internally. "Ashveil, please, just go out for a while… a new environment, some fresh air… isn't that better?"
---
Just as he despaired, a powerful aura suddenly surged through the sky.
Even Saint Mars, who was nearby and absorbed in work, froze, a rare expression of alarm crossing his face.
This familiar presence—the terrifying Conqueror's Haki—was unmistakable.
Both men exchanged glances and confirmed what their instincts already knew: their master, the descendant of the legendary god, Imu-sama, had come in person.
Saint Mars' lips trembled as he looked up at the sky in disbelief.
"This… this can't be… Imu-sama has arrived personally?"
The laborers of the United Army paused, their eyes turning skyward. Many had only recently heard of Imu's existence—the deity they had served for countless years.
Curiosity, awe, and fear filled their hearts.
Bickley, however, felt a spark of hope. Finally! Rescue had arrived. He could no longer endure this torturous labor.
"Imu-sama! Imu-sama, please save me!" Bickley cried toward the sky.
Above, a meteor-like figure appeared, reminiscent of Bickley's own dramatic entrances. Imu, however, did not crash down violently. She soared gracefully, scanning the area with a cold, piercing gaze.
Her voice, ancient and difficult to discern as male or female, resonated through the Conqueror's Haki, carrying across the United Army.
"Bickley, you fool! And all of you—utterly incompetent! You forced me to come myself. This is disgraceful!"
Every soldier lowered their heads at the godly presence, awed and terrified.
Imu's expression remained icy, disdainful. She drew Conqueror's Haki into her throat, projecting her voice even further.
"As your god, you dared to offend me in this manner. Now, in the name of God, I will put an end to you, Whitebeard Pirates!"
____
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