Chapter 615: Chapter 615
My Conqueror’s Haki surged—but instead of erupting outward in chaotic waves, it pulled inward, condensing, refining, purifying—
Then—FWOOOM
It exploded outward again but transformed. Divine Haki. Not purple. Not black. A shimmering, fluid, cosmic glow—like the surface of a star seen up close. It clashed with Imu’s Divine Haki—
and for the first time, theirs faltered. The sky split into black and gold halves. The ocean parted beneath me, forming a divine pathway. Lightning rained upward. Gravity twisted in spirals.
The world twisted into a kaleidoscope of divine force.
It was the mantle of the deity whose power I had inherited. My Conqueror’s Haki roared—and then changed. It did not merely resist Imu’s Divine Haki—it rose, igniting, ascending, and reshaping itself into the same celestial wavelength. The second Divine Haki erupted from me in a violent tidal wave, colliding with Imu’s own.
The ocean split, and the skies tore. The world itself shuddered like a frightened beast. My God Fruit—long believed to be a mere mythical Zoan—fully awakened.
Mythical Zoan: Kami no Mi, Model: God of Destruction.
The fruit of an ancient deity lost to time, its will pulsing through my veins, its power merging with my own. In my hands, my blades responded, now transformed into divine blades. Akatsuki and its sibling sword, Shusui, vibrated, metal singing like bells at the end of the world.
"Did you truly believe," I said, my third eye locking onto Imu, "that no mortal could ever reach your sacred threshold? You underestimate us... Imu. You underestimate the infinite potential of human evolution."
My Divine Haki slammed down on Poseidon’s possessed form. His massive frame buckled, cracks forming across the armor of corruption binding him. The demonized god trembled under the pressure of a new god rising. Imu’s voice slipped. Cracked. Frayed with disbelief.
"Kami no... Haki...!"
The fear was unmistakable. For the second time in their eternal life, Imu felt it—that same divine resonance they had once dismissed as a remnant, a coincidence. But now... standing before them was no remnant. No echo of the past. A being in full godhood. A resurrected terror from a world long forgotten. A deity reborn in flesh and wrath—staring at them with a third eye burning like judgment.
I lifted my twin divine blades. And the world held its breath.
"It’s impossible..." Imu’s voice trembled—not with fear, not with awe—but with a hatred so old it eroded the sea around us like acid.
"No mortal should be able to carry the strain of a divine will within their soul..."
The words vibrated through Poseidon’s stolen throat, echoing in the crushed space around us.
Even through the distortion of possession, I felt Imu’s mind racing—a mind that had ruled unchallenged for centuries, perhaps millennia, now forced to confront a truth they never expected to witness again. A truth they thought buried in the first age.
They had seen Joyboy inherit Nika’s flame—and dismissively crushed him, for even the Sun God’s reincarnation never grasped the fullness of the divine. They had seen Davy Jones, inheritor of the Deep’s echo, and torn him apart at his peak, for he too was only a fragment of what once was.
But now—now Imu stared at someone fundamentally different. A mortal whose soul did not merely echo a god’s remnant but held it, contained it, endured it, and allowed it to grow. A mortal who could one day walk as a god in full.
I saw the realization dawn in their abyssal, violet-flamed eyes. And I saw something else follow: Rage. Pure, divine, unrestrained rage. Imu hissed, voice twisting the seabed.
"No...No...NOOOO!!!." The trench collapsed inward, unable to bear the pressure of their rising fury.
"This world is mine... Mine alone." Their divine Haki surged in a violent shockwave—
no longer retreating, no longer wavering. It pushed against mine with the force of tectonic plates grinding.
I braced— Conqueror’s Haki screaming— as Imu poured their entire will into Poseidon’s flesh.
forcing the ancient weapon’s body beyond any limit it was built to withstand. The sea dragon beneath them spasmed, bones cracking under the unnatural pressure. The abyss itself quaked as if the ocean tried to flee from its own god.
Imu’s voice dropped to something ancient and cold: "Another god shall not rise. Not while I live.
What died in the First Epoch... will remain dead."
Black lightning crackled around Poseidon’s possessed body as Imu leveled the trident—its prongs coated in a density of Haki that made the water evaporate. And then the impossible happened: the sea fled.
For miles around, the water of the abyss retreated—not parted, not displaced—obliterated, leaving a perfect, crushing vacuum at the bottom of the sea. A domain where no mortal could exist. But gods—gods could fight. My blades hummed in response.
"Just because you tell me to die..." I lifted Akatsuki, divine flame simmering along its edge. "Should I drop dead for you, Imu?"
Akatsuki roared, a sound felt rather than heard—a resonance that came from the blade, from the will sleeping inside it, and from the god whose haki flowed through my veins.
Divine Haki—raw, primordial, only partially understood—wrapped around my swords like spirals of starlight and shadow. Even rudimentary, it was enough.
Because Imu—for all their overwhelming dominance—could not manifest their true form onto Poseidon. What stood before me was a god wearing a corpse. A puppet stretched thin over infinite power. I lunged forward, divine Haki roaring. Imu answered with a bellow that shattered the trench walls.
The trident and my blade collided—and the ocean held its breath. Black and blue lightning tore the vacuum apart. The seafloor rippled like liquid metal. The airless pressure quaked with the clash of two wills capable of remaking worlds.
Imu’s voice tore through the void: "You dare embody the will of a god—before me!?"
And I met their fury with my own: "You ruled unchallenged because no god remained to oppose you—until now."
Imu’s eyes—those violet, abyss-burning flames—widened, not in fear, but in a rage so vast it felt older than the ocean itself. Akatsuki slammed against Poseidon’s trident in a deadlock, and for the first time in countless eons, Imu found themselves unable to advance even a single inch.
A mortal—a man—holding back a god. The abyss screamed.
BOOOOOM—!!
The moment our weapons locked, Haki exploded outward in a storm of raw, destructive force.
The dark seabed beneath us—stone older than islands—fractured like brittle clay. The shockwave didn’t ripple. It detonated.
A crater carved itself open beneath our feet, expanding wider and deeper with every passing heartbeat. Mountains of stone were pulverized. Entire ridges collapsed and sank into the newly formed abyss. If this clash had taken place on land— entire islands would have been erased, swallowed whole without even time for a scream.
Blue lightning from Imu’s divine fury arced across the vacuumed space—and black-gold lightning from my own divine Haki clashed against it, the two forces grinding against each other, warping the ocean floor into a twisting landscape of shattered stone.
Imu leaned forward, teeth bared, abandoning the regal, cold composure of a god. They were no longer a divine ruler—they were a wounded predator.
"I HAVE CRUSHED GODS BEFORE—!"
The voice ripped through Poseidon’s throat, a deep, guttural snarl layered with aeons of buried hatred. The ocean trembled like a creature in terror. The dignified mask Imu had worn for centuries—the untouchable divinity, the calm omnipotence—shattered.
What stared at me now was the raw, primal truth of Imu. A being who had destroyed gods.
A being who had outlived eras. A being who refused to accept a world where they were not absolute. My eyes narrowed. My stance lowered. Akatsuki screamed in my grip as divine Haki surged through my veins.
"Then—" I roared, meeting their fury with a fury of my own, "—you shouldn’t have any problem killing me too!"
Shusui moved before Imu could react. A blur, a cut. A soundless flash of divine steel. The black blade screeched with a voice older than its forging, its hunger igniting as I poured divine Haki into it. The abyss lit up for a single instant.
SHINK—!!
Shusui carved through Poseidon’s massive side—rending divine flesh, splitting scales, and slicing straight through Imu’s stolen vessel. Divine Haki tore through divine Haki. There was no resistance. No shield. No godly barrier strong enough. The force of the blow lifted the colossal 20-meter mermaid from the ground—her entire gigantic body wrenched upward like a puppet with its strings violently severed.
Then—KRRAAAAAASH—!!!
She flew backward like a fallen meteor, crashing into the seabed with so much force that the impact carved a new trench across the ocean floor, stretching for miles, the shock erupting like a silent volcanic eruption. Stone turned to dust. Pressure quaked. The abyss deepened.
The sea dragon roared and retreated, instinctively fearing the god it once served. Imu, still within Poseidon’s shell, slowly raised their head—bloodless, expression twisted into something monstrous.
Their voice rumbled from everywhere and nowhere at once: "You dare..."
The abyss trembled around us.
"You dare WOUND the vessel of Poseidon...?"
Their divine fury swelled again—but now, now it was laced with something they had not tasted in thousands of years: pain, real pain. The pain inflicted by another god. And I stood above the crater, blades crossed, divine Haki roaring like a rising star—ready to challenge the throne of the first god.
For a moment—just a moment—there was silence. The kind of silence that comes before a star implodes. Then the seabed trembled.
No—it shuddered, as if the ocean itself flinched away from what was rising within that newly carved trench. I felt it before I saw it—a pressure so suffocating, so ancient, that even the water molecules around us seemed to recoil and pull back.
Darkness pooled at the bottom of the crater. A black, spiraling mist—thick, dense, oily—began to rise. It wasn’t smoke. It wasn’t Haki. It was Imu’s true presence. The presence of a being who had not simply ruled for centuries—but one who had survived the age of gods by killing them. The darkness surged upward.
Then—FWOOOOOM—!!!
Poseidon’s massive form burst from the trench, not leaping, but rising, pulled upward by a force that bent the pressure of the deep around it. And Poseidon—or rather, the shell that Imu now wore—was no longer the mermaid I had struck.
They were changing. Corrupting further and becoming something that should never exist. The first transformation hit like a thunderclap.
CRACK—CRACK—CRACK—!!!
Bone shifted beneath divine flesh. Spines erupted from Poseidon’s back, splitting the skin, and two colossal wings unfurled with a wet metallic snap. Not feathered wings. Not even draconic wings. Demonic wings.
Massive, batlike, and pulsing with black-red veins that glowed like magma trails. Each flap tore the ocean currents apart, creating shockwaves that blasted away the nearby rubble. The mermaid tail quivered, twisted—then split apart with a tearing shriek of bone and flesh.
Scales darkened to pitch black. Fins receded and curled into sharpened ridges. A long, sinewy demon’s tail emerged, tipped with a razor-edged blade that hummed with corrupted divinity. The sea itself recoiled as the transformation finalized. But it wasn’t over.
A rumbling whisper filled the abyss—a language no human throat should speak—a language older than the Void Century, older even than the era of gods. From the swirling darkness, a grimoire materialized.
A floating, ancient book bound in blackened hide, its pages dripping with ink made of shadows. The cover bore an emblem: a pentagram—Imu’s true sigil, hidden from the world since time immemorial. The grimoire opened on its own, and black pages flipped as though searching for a spell that had not been cast since the world was young. Symbols carved from pure shadow floated upward, circling Poseidon’s corrupted form like a halo of malevolent stars.
This was no devil fruit. No haki. No sorcery known to mankind. This was the primordial power of the one who had killed gods. And the trident—Poseidon’s sacred weapon, the symbol of the sea’s authority—began to melt. Not dissolve—melt. Dripping like molten metal, reshaping itself
under Imu’s will. The divine gold darkened and hardened, forming wicked, jagged horns. The elegant prongs twisted into hooked blades designed not for rule but for slaughter, its edge screaming with the souls of drowned gods.
Poseidon’s body—now fully possessed, twisted, and corrupted—hovered above the trench. Wings spread wide enough to eclipse mountains. Tail lashing with destructive intent. Grimoire spinning in a halo of cursed glyphs. And from within that towering form, Imu’s true voice echoed—layered, distorted, monstrous.
"You have forced me... to transcend the limits of this vessel." The ocean trembled around us.
Even the sea dragon fled, its instincts overriding its bindings. "This form has not touched the world since the last era of gods," Imu hissed, eyes burning with violet inferno.
"And YOU, Rosinante... have earned the honor of witnessing it." Their wings beat once. The world broke. And they vanished in an explosion of black light— charging straight at me.
She descended with impossible speed—Pitchfork thrust like a spear of the underworld—and I crossed Akatsuki and Shusui in an X-guard just in time. The impact didn’t make a sound. The deep sea lost the concept of sound for a heartbeat. Then everything detonated.
A white ring of force erupted, flattening the trench floor, erasing mountains of stone. The vacuum expanded outward, ripping the ocean currents into spirals miles wide. Continents above felt the tremor—coastlines buckled, geysers erupted in distant islands, and clouds above the Grand Line twisted into unnatural spirals.
We locked weapons mid-air—my blades glowing with divine gold, black, and crimson—and Imu’s pitchfork dripping void-flame. Her dark wings beat once—my feet dug trenches kilometers long. My divine haki smashed against Imu’s divine haki, two storms colliding, each refusing to bow. The seabed cracked under our feet like thin porcelain.
Imu hissed, "You are an impossibility."
I roared back, "You are outdated."
She twisted—I deflected—the vacuum ruptured again—black lightning bled from her wings as she reeled her pitchfork back, and—the grimoire opened. Pages flipped in a frenzy, runes igniting like exploding suns.
""SUMMON: WRAITH ARTILLERY"."
The ocean behind her went black. Then cannon barrels—old, new, ancient, futuristic—burst from the darkness, hundreds of them, all forming in a halo. Ghostly guns. Abyss weapons. Sea-tempered artillery. All loaded. All primed. All aimed at me. And they fired.
The trench turned white. Light swallowed everything. Beams, lasers, shells, and bullets—all infused with condensed haki and abyssal curse—rained toward me like a meteor storm. I vanished. A single footstep cracked the vacuum as I moved—Soru enhanced by divine will—my body splitting into afterimages like streaks of gold and shadow.
Akatsuki carved glowing arcs through the barrage—Shusui shattered projectiles with thunderous counterforce—every slash redirected blasts into the ocean walls, detonating mountains into dust. Water spiraled violently, forming a hurricane around our battlefield.
Through the storm I saw Imu—still hovering—still commanding the endless barrage—her wings beating steadily, pushing the ocean further back until we floated in a crater the size of a small nation. I dashed upward—her pitchfork spun—our weapons collided again—BOOOOOOOOM.
A shockwave shot upward through the ocean, breaking the surface thousands of meters above.
A pillar of water erupted into the sky, so massive ships leagues away thought a new island was rising. We were not fighting in the sea anymore. The sea was fighting around us.
Imu stabbed down—I parried—I sliced her wing—She conjured a cannon mid-air and fired at my face—I flipped, bringing my heel down, kicking the cannon into scrap—She summoned a dozen swords—I shattered them—She appeared behind me—I spun, slashing a crescent that split the trench wall—We were equals. Equals in speed. Equals in ferocity. Equals in divine haki.
Each time she tried to overwhelm me, I broke through with technique. Each time I tried to overpower her, she pushed back with godhood. The ocean began collapsing into the crater again, but the sheer force of our clash vaporized everything before it got close. The world bent around us. The abyss warped like a living thing.
And then—Imu’s grimoire glowed a color I had never seen. A color not meant for human eyes. Her voice dropped to something ancient, something primal: "Enough. I will show you the calamity that erased gods."
The pages turned. A forbidden spell glowed. The ocean screamed. The deep sea was no longer a sea. It was a throat, swallowing light, swallowing sound, swallowing sanity—and at its core stood two beings that no longer belonged to the mortal world.
The water—what little remained within the vacuum—boiled into spirals around their bodies, unable to withstand the pressure of their wills. Cracks ran along the trench walls like fractures in the ribs of the world.
Then—a heartbeat. Then another. Then another. And the ocean exploded upward. A column of water hundreds of meters wide detached from the seafloor and punched toward the surface like a reverse waterfall. The entire trench buckled upward under the force of their clashing divine Haki.
I hovered in the vacuum, blades drawn, divine light spiraling around his arms. Imu floated opposite him, wings of black flame tearing the darkness apart, the demonic grimoire rotating before their chest, pages turning on their own. Both gods narrowed their eyes. Everything else fled. The sea dragon. The lesser leviathans. Even the currents themselves. Nature knew its place. But the gods did not.
The moment the ocean surface cracked, a shockwave of divine energy shot skyward, splitting storm clouds like curtains.
BOOOOOOOOOOM!
Lightning tore upward, not down. An entire cyclone formed around the rising water column, spiraling into a colossal maelstrom that dragged the horizon itself downward. Syrup Village, Alabasta, Elbaf—everyone felt the pressure drop.
Birds fell out of the sky. Ships across the Grand Line capsized from the sudden rise of the ocean. And in the center of it all—two figures rose slowly out of the void, carried upward by their own oppressive auras.
My body glowing gold-white like a fallen sun. Imu, blazing violet-black like an inverted star. Our eyes locked. Our haki collided midair. The world bent under the pressure. I vanished—not fast, not instantly. My body simply refused to exist in the present moment, slipping through the cracks of time itself as I reappeared inside Imu’s guard, blades already drawn wide.
"Shinsō—" Akatsuki burned molten gold in my left hand. Shusui bled jet-black haki in my right.
"—Kōren: Godpiercer!"
I swung both blades, crossing them in an X that warped the ocean around us, tearing a spiraling corridor through the rising water column. Imu didn’t dodge. They didn’t block. They summoned.
The grimoire snapped open—and behind them, a circle of ink-black light bloomed. From that swirling void, weapons poured out. Spears. Swords. Halberds. Cannons. Rings of rifles coiling like mechanical serpents. Bladed chains singing with curses. A divine arsenal—ancient, regal, monstrous—formed a perfect sphere around Imu. They raised a single finger.
"Regalia of the Abyss..." Every weapon snapped toward me. "Ten Thousand Spears of Dominion."
The world lit up in violet. The arsenal fired. A storm of divine projectiles streaked through the submerged sky. Even miles below the surface, shockwaves tore upward, punching through the sea and exploding on the surface as if detonating suns. Trenches carved themselves across the ocean floor, water blasted upward in impossible geysers.
I moved through it. Shusui spun in my right hand, deflecting a lance that would have shattered a mountain. Akatsuki cleaved a rain of cursed axes, scattering them like ash. But the barrage didn’t stop. Portals blinked in and out around me—thousands—each launching new weapons from impossible angles.
Persistent bastard. I pushed my observation Haki further—three seconds into the future. Five.
Ten. The world decelerated into a soft, warping crawl. I walked through the storm, sidestepping divine spears as if avoiding raindrops. I sliced through cannons before they fully materialized. Not even a ripple touched me. When time snapped back to normal, I was already behind Imu, blades descending.
But Imu wasn’t a beast or a tyrant. They were a god. Foresight flowed through their very existence. Their pitchfork didn’t swing or block—it appeared where my strike would land, as if reality redrew itself to protect them. The clash detonated.
Akatsuki rang. The pitchfork screamed. Shockwaves ripped the ocean apart around us, splitting the sea like cracked glass. I pressed in harder. Imu pushed back twice as fiercely. Lightning forked between us. Distant clouds evaporated. The wind shredded islands far above.
Neither of us gave ground.
A second clash—a third—a fourth— Each blow reshaped the world. Through my observation Haki, I watched a distant island above us on the surface vaporize under the pressure, disintegrating into dust. Mountains rose from the seafloor, surged upward like pillars, and then crumbled from our vibrations.
Currents reversed. Whirlpools formed and died in an instant. Everything that lived fled. I pivoted backward midair, crossing my blades in a guarded stance.
"Not bad," I spat between breaths, "for a tyrant squatting on an empty throne."
Imu’s wings unfurled wider—twice their size—each feather dripping with violet fire.
"For a mortal," they hissed, "you are irritatingly stubborn." The grimoire floated before them, pages turning faster and faster, symbols glowing like dying stars.
"All creation," they whispered, "bows to its rightful owner." I wiped the blood from my lip with the back of my hand. My aura swelled upward, gold and vast, until even the ocean trembled.
"Then let’s see," I said, raising my blades, "which of us the world chooses." The sky miles above us split clean in half. The sea rose around us like a mountain. Lightning turned gold. Gravity buckled. Everything—air, water, stone—froze in anticipation. I lowered my stance. Akatsuki thrummed with molten-gold haki. Shusui howled with jet-black fury. Twin spirals formed around my arms.
Imu roared back. The grimoire exploded with dark light—a mandala of swirling portals igniting behind them once more, each spawning a divine weapon locked onto my heartbeat.
Everything happened at once. My twin blades slashed forward. Imu’s dimensional arsenal fired.
Gold met violet. Light met darkness. Will smashed into Will. The collision compressed into a perfect sphere of annihilation, swallowing color, sound, and motion.
Time froze on the instant before impact. A single frame, a single breath, a single impossible moment—before the world decided which god would fall.
