As the black flames roared higher, an utterly bizarre sight unfolded.
Bathed in that eerie fire, the wounds Darren had carved into Saint Michael's body stopped bleeding at once. Before Darren's eyes, torn flesh began knitting back together at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"Hey, hey, hey! This is getting ridiculous," Darren muttered, genuinely exasperated as he watched a scene that would have crushed anyone else's spirit. "Are all you Mythical Zoan users this absurdly hard to kill?"
Even he couldn't keep from voicing his irritation at the Celestial Dragon's monstrous regeneration.
The Gorosei were like this… and now the Commander of the Knights of God too?
If Mythical Zoan Awakening is this busted, then Marco's Phoenix immortality is starting to look a little redundant, isn't it?
Saint Michael exhaled a breath of frost from both mouth and nose, his tone calm and distant.
"As I've already said—Mythical Zoans are the strongest Devil Fruits. They stand at the pinnacle of power."
The moment those words fell, he launched forward again.
A flash of silver-white, fleeting as a ghost, streaked toward Darren's face.
His rapier, light and razor-sharp, traced an elegant arc through the air, carrying a surge of murderous intent.
Clang!
Boom!
Another thunderous blast erupted as the earth caved in yet again, the island's edge finally collapsing under the strain.
Blood splattered.
The battlefield, ground away by their clashes, had shrunk to a patch of earth barely large enough for one man to stand on. The black-haired youth held his ground atop it, unwavering.
The rapier's point trembled a few centimeters before his brow—no more than three—but it could not come any closer.
A blood-slick hand clamped down on the blade with brutal force.
Blood streamed between his fingers, the cut so deep it nearly exposed bone. Bright sparks flared along the steel as it vibrated violently, but those five dragon-claw fingers held the weapon in an unbreakable grip.
Zzzzzz…
Violet-blue arcs of electricity raced along the rapier, as if a powerful repulsive force were surging through the metal. It felt as though some colossal, invisible hand had seized the weapon from the void and was holding it fast.
For the first time, a flicker of real shock crossed Saint Michael's face. The pupils of the man who had remained arrogant and composed throughout the battle constricted to pinpoints.
"Impossible…" he breathed.
"…There's actually something I've been thinking about for a long time now," Darren rasped.
Blood welled from his palm, flowing down his arm and soaking his sleeve.
"Just as you said, there's always been a major flaw in how I've developed my Devil Fruit."
"By controlling shifts in the magnetic field within a certain range, I can manipulate metal."
"For years, I focused on pushing that external magnetic field farther—expanding its radius, increasing its precision, and stacking on more and more power."
His low voice drifted on the wind, threaded with a faint, unsettling resonance.
"Electromagnetic cannons. Controlling metal blades. Deflecting projectiles. Even assembling giant mecha out of scrap to fight for me… In a way, you were right. None of that actually strengthens me. They're just external tools."
"But because I kept pouring everything into outward development, extending and amplifying my field, I hit a ceiling. I can feel it—I'm right on the brink of Awakening, a breath away, a single step from the threshold… but I haven't been able to cross it."
"This is a first for me. As you've probably noticed, my talent is on a Monster's level. Even something as difficult as Awakening shouldn't have kept me stuck for this long."
He gave a crooked smile, frustration ghosting across his face.
"For the longest time, I just couldn't figure it out. I assumed the issue was that my magnetic field wasn't strong enough yet, or my control still wasn't precise enough."
"After all, every bit of intel and theory I've gathered over the years about Paramecia Awakening says the same thing."
"Paramecia Awakening begins from within, then extends outward, transforming and influencing the environment."
"Take Charlotte Katakuri, for example—I've fought him. His Mochi-Mochi Fruit can turn the world around him into mochi. I've been trying to develop my powers in that direction too."
"But what you said just now reminded me of something…"
"Why do I need to keep pushing outward?"
He chuckled softly.
"I really should thank you, Your Excellency Saint Michael."
Darren slowly lifted his head and met the Commander's gaze. A wild, arrogant grin spread across his face, baring teeth stained red.
At those words, a formless chill gripped Saint Michael's heart.
Don't tell me this man…
"Yes… I finally get it."
Darren's smile twisted into something vicious.
"My body is my ultimate weapon."
ZZZZZZZZT!!
A nearly berserk current of energy exploded from him. Purple-blue lightning flared like a raging inferno, coiling around his body and shooting toward the sky.
The blue arcs were Thunder Armor—his body forced into a hyper-activated state and manifesting that power externally.
But woven through that light was something else: the shrill, distorted scream of a magnetic field tearing itself apart and rewiring his body from the inside out.
No…
In Saint Michael's holy, crimson-tinged eyes, a flash of dread flickered—as if he were glimpsing a future drenched in blood. His expression changed at last.
"Let go!"
His lofty composure shattered. Black-red Armament Haki crackled with lightning as it erupted along the rapier's length.
With a harsh clang, he wrenched the blade free from Darren's hand. At the same instant, the Frostshadow Silver Wolf's jaws snapped open and spewed a blast of glacial breath.
At this distance—there was no way this human insect could dodge!
A killing light flickered in Saint Michael's eyes.
But in the next heartbeat, his expression froze.
Right in front of him, the "insect" bared his teeth in a feral grin and raised his arm straight into the path of the freezing beam.
Ice devoured his flesh in an instant. His arm crystallized, massive chunks of ice forming along it, but Darren took a step forward, eyes burning crimson, and roared.
His fist slammed out.
Clang!
Saint Michael brought his Western blade up to block, but at the instant of impact, pure horror flashed across his face.
His Meito-class sword, its edge coated in Armament Haki—
Was cracking.
Hairline fractures spiderwebbed across the blade. Under the force of that single blow, the weapon itself began to bend.
This power…
How can this be possible?!
"Spin!!"
The raging magnetic field twisted violently, surging through the black-haired man's body and detonating into unimaginable strength.
Darren threw his head back and laughed like a madman.
In his mind's Eye of Perception, the numbers in the "Devil Fruit" category began to shift.
Devil Fruit: +0.39!
Devil Fruit: 90.013…
Magnet-Magnet Fruit Awakening!!
To be continued...