As I said before at every 10 membership I will drop bonus chapter. It does not matter if it is free or not.
Once again thankyou all and those who are supporting me on patreon.
Want to read 15+ chapters ahead? Support me on Patreon! And here by donating powerstone
for every 50 power stone I will drop a bonus chapter.
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Remember to only take 5$ membership, As I am going to remove all others membership except this and 'monster tier one' from next months.
Only half slots are left now
And In this you will get all the chapter of all my fanfics.
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The world held its breath.
The sheer, suffocating pressure of a king in his prime was a physical force. The very air thickened, groaning under the weight of a will that had once rivaled the Pirate King's. Rob Lucci, whose face had been a mask of focus, faltered for the first time, his eyes wide with a shock that bordered on terror. He was looking at a living ghost from the legends, a monster his masters in Cipher Pol had assured him was a nearly dying, a figure from history. This was no relic. This was a cataclysm given flesh.
"GURARARARA!" The laughter of the Emperor (One Minute) was not a sound; it was a seismic event, a force of nature that drowned out the clashing steel and dying screams of the entire battle. He stood, not as an old man, but as the pinnacle of his power, muscles coiled like ancient oak, his bisento gleaming with nascent, world-ending energy. "So," he bellowed, his gaze sweeping over the frozen battlefield, "Who wants to be the first to die?"
The CP-0 agents, assassins trained from childhood to feel no fear, felt a primal terror grip their souls. They stumbled back, their flawless Rokushiki stances faltering, their impeccable forms broken by the sheer, overwhelming presence of Edward Newgate.
But from the deck of the central Marine battleship, a figure moved. He was massive, a giant of a man whose very silhouette spoke of an era of iron and blood, his distinctive braided beard a mark of his legendary status. Dressed in a pristine white suit that strained against the monstrous power rippling underneath, he had been the silent overseer, a hidden trump card held in reserve. Now, the trump card was being played.
"It has been a long time, Newgate," the man's voice boomed, calm and steady, yet possessing a density that carved its own space in the king's aura. He stepped onto the gunwale, the ship groaning under his weight. "You've didn't aged poorly. You look... exactly as you did on God Valley."
Whitebeard's eyes, blazing with renewed power, narrowed, a flicker of genuine surprise and grim recognition within them. "Kong," he growled, the name a curse and an acknowledgment all in one. "So the World Government finally let their old gorilla out of his cage. Come to clean up their mess?"
The World Government Commander-in-Chief, Kong, the Fleet Admiral from the era of Roger and Rocks, leaped from his ship. He didn't fall; he descended like a meteor, impacting the ice field with a ground-shaking CRACK that sent new fissures spider-webbing out for hundreds of meters. The ice beneath his feet did not just crack; it compacted, sinking a full foot under the force of his landing.
"The Gorosei do not take chances," Kong stated, his voice flat and devoid of emotion, though his eyes burned with cold fire. He cracked his massive knuckles, the sound like boulders grinding together. "We knew the girl's power was a variable. They sent me to personally oversee the extermination of the Whitebeard Pirates. Permanently."
His gaze, however, was not solely on Whitebeard. It swept the battlefield, a commander assessing his troops and his enemies. It passed over Marco's blue flames, Jozu's diamond form, and then... it landed. It locked onto the lazy, freezing figure of Kuzan, who was casually leaning against an ice pillar, observing the scene with an infuriating detachment.
Kong's face, which had been a mask of grim, dutiful resolve, contorted into a snarl of pure, unadulterated disgust and betrayal.
"KUZAN!" he roared, his voice shaking with a fury that rivaled Whitebeard's quakes. The air around him visibly vibrated. "You dare to stand there?! You dare to show your face on this battlefield, aligning yourself with these criminals?! You have thrown away your honor! Your duty! You are a festering disgrace to the uniform you once wore!"
All eyes flickered to the former Admiral. Kuzan, from his position, slowly pushed himself off the ice pillar. He adjusted his sleeping mask on his forehead and gave a lazy, two-fingered wave. "Ara ra... It's a free country, Kong-san. Or at least, it's supposed to be. I'm just... enjoying my retirement. The scenery's interesting."
The blatant disrespect, the casual dismissal of a lifetime of service and discipline, was a spark on a powder keg. It was in this moment of divided attention, with the two legends locked in their own confrontation and Kong's immense focus split by the traitor in his midst, that Rob Lucci saw his opening. He saw Ace, the primary target, his focus split between the two titans. He lunged, a blur of black and spotted fur, his body already shifting, growing larger, transforming into his full leopard Zoan form, his fangs bared for a killing blow.
"Your story ends here, Devil's Son!" Lucci snarled, his voice a guttural rasp.
Ace didn't even turn. He just sighed, a sound of profound, almost theatrical disappointment. "You really, really don't learn, do you?" He simply spun on his heel, his father's sword, Ace, held in a reverse grip. The blade erupted not just in light, but in a blinding, fire flare of golden energy, wreathed in the crackling, pitch-black lightning of a king's Haki. The air itself screamed around the blade.
"You're not the main character here, pigeon-guy," Ace said, his voice bored, yet carrying the weight of absolute finality. "King's Talon."
It was not a slash. It was a single, elegant, and impossibly fast thrust. A linear pinpoint of concentrated royal will. The golden blade passed clean through Lucci's chest as if he were mist, the Conqueror's Haki not just piercing but vaporizing the tissue, muscle, and heart before his body even registered the impact. Lucci's transformation faltered instantly, his eyes wide with a blank, utter disbelief as he stared at the man he couldn't even touch. He didn't scream; he just collapsed to the deck, a puppet with its strings cut, a hole clean through his torso.
Ace pulled his sword free, flicking the single drop of blood from the pristine blade with a casual grace. He didn't even give the body a second glance. His full attention, his entire being, was focused on the real fight, on the titans about to clash.
He saw it in an instant. Kong was a monster from a bygone age of absolute justice, his entire body coated in an Armament Haki so dense and polished it looked like obsidian, already clashing with Whitebeard's bisento wreathed in a corona of destructive vibrations. The shockwave of their first, testing blow shattered the ice for a mile around them. His father was a Yonko, but a Yonko on a time limit. Bonney's power was a miracle, but even now, Ace could see the faintest flicker around Whitebeard's form, a reminder that the clock was ticking down to zero. He had to end this quickly.
The Phoenix Wings, vast and incandescent, erupted from Ace's back in a torrent of brilliant blue and gold flames. He shot into the sky, a fiery comet of divine wrath aimed directly at the heart of the battle between the Ghost and the Gorilla. He would end this himself.
He was halfway there, the wind screaming past him, when a figure shot up from the deck of a nearby Marine ship, intercepting him with a speed that matched his own. It was a woman with short, light-colored hair whipping in the turbulent air, dressed in a Vice Admiral's coat that flapped behind her, a long, elegant sword held in a practiced, two-handed grip.
Vice Admiral Doll.
She moved with a fluid, deadly grace, her Observation Haki perfectly predicting his trajectory, her blade already arcing in a silvery flash towards his neck, aiming to decapitate the flame.
SHIIING!
Ace parried with his own sword, the clash of supreme-grade steel ringing like a bell in the chaotic sky. Sparks of gold and silver rained down on the battlefield below. He looked at her, truly looked at her, and Kenji's memories supplied a piece of trivia, a detail from a manga he read a hundred times in another life. Doll. Known for her unwavering, almost maternal sense of justice. Fiercely protective of the innocent. Hometown is the peaceful, isolated island of Applenine, known for its apple orchards and quiet shores.
A slow, knowing grin spread across Ace's face. He effortlessly deflected another one of her lightning-fast strikes, the force of the blow dissipating against the golden Haki shrouding his blade.
"Tell me, Vice Admiral," Ace said, his voice conversational, almost friendly, as they hovered in mid-air, a stark contrast to the world-shattering conflict below. "Is Applenine still as beautiful as they say? you wouldn't want something happen to them, right? All those orchards in bloom, the quiet beaches... it must be a wonderful, peaceful place to protect."
Doll faltered. Her eyes, previously narrowed in focused intent, widened in genuine, unfeigned shock. Her perfectly controlled offensive stance hesitated for a critical fraction of a second. "How... how could you possibly know that?" she breathed, her professional composure cracking. "That island is not on any common navigational chart..."
Ace just grinned, a flash of his father's impossible, freedom-defying spirit shining in his eyes. He saw not just an enemy, but a person. A person with a home, a dream, a reason to fight. It made the brutal calculus of battle so much more… interesting.
"That's my secret," he said, his golden Haki flaring to life around his blade like a miniature sun, pushing back against her skilled attacks. "Your justice, to protect the peaceful homes of the world... it's commendable, Vice Admiral Doll. Truly."
He broke off the engagement, hovering effortlessly before her, his magnificent Phoenix Wings beating slowly, casting a brilliant, fiery glow that illuminated the terror and awe on the faces of the Marines below.
"But you're standing in the way of my family," he declared, his voice dropping its casual tone, now ringing with the calm, absolute authority of a king who has made his judgment. The air itself stilled around them, waiting for his verdict.
"So, I'll give you a choice," he said, the words final and unyielding. "Move. Or be moved."
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I will take leave Tommorow to write 20 extra chapter for pateron and than upload 5 bonus chapters here ( ONLY IF YOU SEND POWER STONE)
Also 5$ membership is only have 69 slots, and 34 of them are filled.
so purchase it fast and in it you get access of every work I publish.
Also I will be uploading an new novel and it will be my original work soon...so plz show it some love....BTW thankyou guys.
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