Page 537

Im leaned back abruptly!

It's not about sitting down.

Instead, he leaned his entire body weight heavily against that empty throne!

"Snap!!!"

A sound that wasn't loud, yet seemed to resonate deep within history and the soul, came from where the throne and Im's body touched!

Immediately afterwards...

Starting from where Im leaned, the statue was cast from a special dark metal.

The Void Throne, symbolizing eight hundred years of the lie of "no one ruling" and absolute power.

A clear, widening crack appeared starting from the center of the backrest!

The cracks, like living black lightning, quickly spread across the entire back of the throne, then extended to the armrests and the base!

Countless tiny fragments began to peel off from the cracks and fall down in a soft rustling sound!

The Void Throne, symbolizing the supreme power of the world government, is insurmountable and inviolable...

At this moment, the "god" who had ruled the world for eight hundred years personally leaned upon it...

It begins... to collapse.

Im leaned against the crumbling throne, his head tilted back.

Looking at the shattered dome of the hall, and beyond the dome, at the false "sky" stained red by the flames of war.

Its face was expressionless.

“Gern Reginald Sigmar!”

"Don't even think about trading with that treasure chest. That's the last thing I'm saying to you..."

Gern finally turned around slowly.

He held the Eight Desolations in his hands, watching the throne crumble and the "figure" on it that had become a historical silhouette along with the throne.

An era, a symbol, has already arrived at this moment...

It has come to an end.

Is Chapter 739 over? Yes.

combustion.

Sparks ignited, burning the corpse...

This is both a finishing blow and a guarantee.

And Gern stood about three steps away from the burning "corpse".

His face was expressionless; he simply watched silently as the body gradually vanished into nothingness amidst the starlight.

And the black sword "Eight Desolations" still stuck in his forehead.

His eyes were somewhat dim and unclear.

"do you died?"

A question, devoid of emotion, arose in my heart.

Soon, Gern himself provided the answer.

"That's true."

He murmured to himself.

"The so-called 'Im'... has never seemed to represent... combat strength."

Recalling their first encounter, the few words Kamiya had overheard, and even the battle that had just taken place...

Everything Im has shown seems to be based on immortality and regeneration through an abyssal pact.

It is the suffocating will to dominate and the wisdom of battle that has been accumulated over eight hundred years.

Its "power" lies in its system and its authority.

Its near-unsolvable ability to survive and recover lies in its ability to survive and recover.

And that computational power to control everything and bring the opponent into the "net".

Rather than individual combat power capable of destroying the world.

In other words, whether Im has a body or not is a question.

Therefore, when Gern forcibly tore open that "net" with absolute strength and will...

It directly defeated its Conqueror's Haki, and used "Spark" to counter it.

When the power that scorches its very essence comes to an end...

The outcome of this battle seemed to have been predetermined.

only……

"I didn't expect it to be so 'easy'."

Gern's lips twitched downwards very slightly.

There was no joy or triumph in the victory; instead, it felt more like... a lingering, unsatisfied disappointment.

Or rather, a way of facing an anticipated, formidable adversary.

The complex sense of emptiness that arises when one discovers that it is not dominated by pure strength.

Back then, he was with "Pirate King" Gol D. Roger and "World's Strongest Man" Edward Newgate.

Those two battles were truly earth-shattering, a matter of life and death.

Roger's unpredictable swordsmanship and his visionary spirit.

Whitebeard's ferocious power and heroic fighting spirit were enough to tear apart the sea and shatter the sky...

He gave it his all in every match, suffering numerous injuries, but also gaining invaluable experience that left an indelible mark on him.

Compared to those two exhilarating, thrilling, and awe-inspiring epic battles...

The final battle against the "King of the World" is about to begin...

"Compared to my time...when Roger and Whitebeard were..."

A faint, self-deprecating voice echoed in Gern's mind once more.

"Boring...too much."

Yes, it's boring.

It lacks the passion of pure power colliding, and the magnificent, unadorned clash of will and belief.

Instead, there is a strange and unpredictable ability to counter it.

It is the irritating cycle of rebirth and immortality, the scheming and "net" hidden beneath the calm.

Won.

The world government's greatest shadow, the "god" who ruled for eight hundred years, fell to his blade.

But the taste of this victory was much more subdued than he had expected.

The spark slowly died out.

Beside the throne, only a small clump of dark, lifeless ashes remained.

And that sword stuck diagonally in the ashes

The blade remains as black as night, bearing the inscription "Eight Desolations".

Gern did not immediately draw his sword.

He just stood there, without saying a word.

until......

Glug... glug glug...

A rolling sound broke the deathly silence.

Gern looked up and gazed at the entrance to the hall, which had mostly collapsed.

Then, a strangely shaped "thing" rolled in from outside.

That was a head.

He is the God Knight, Kiringom Saint, who fought against Enel and Barrett before.

Immediately afterwards, footsteps could be heard.

Enel, a tall figure wielding a golden staff, strode into the hall with a lazy yet arrogant gait.

On his shoulder, he carried his signature golden staff.

The tip of the golden staff was embedded in the head of the lifeless Marcus Mazsan.

Enel's face was filled with undisguised boredom and disdain.

He kept talking as he walked.

"Hey, Gern..."

He casually tossed the head of Mazsanville off the stick onto the ground like he was throwing away trash.

The head rolled down to the side of Chiringom Saint's head, becoming his unfortunate buddy.

"Those two 'Five Elders' are fucking weak!"

Enel frowned. "Halfway through the fight, that horned lizard (Chiringom) nightmare monster was actually quite annoying."

"That birdman's (Mazsan's) fire is barely watchable..."

He curled his lip: "Suddenly, these two Elders were like chickens with their necks being choked."

At the same time, a series of ghostly howls erupted, including things like "Master," "Contract," and "No..."

Enel imitated that piercing scream, then looked at him with disgust.

"After howling, he was half-dead!"

My strength has plummeted! There's no point in fighting now! I was just getting a little interested!

He carried the golden staff and walked to Gern's vicinity, his gaze sweeping over the pile of ashes beside the throne and the eight directions stuck in the ground.

He glanced at Gern again, raising an eyebrow: "Looks like you've got this sorted out too? It burned pretty clean."

At that moment, another, even heavier set of footsteps approached.

Barrett was also present at the entrance.

His hands were empty, and his expression was relatively calm.

Seeing the heads of Qilingom and Mazsan, he grinned, clearly indicating that he wasn't part of this "spoils of war."

That makes sense, given his fighting style and his opponent (Shepard X. Pitt Saint).

They would probably have been smashed to pieces long ago, so how could their heads still be intact?

Barrett's gaze swept over the head on the ground, landing directly on Gern, then looked at the pile of ashes and the Eight Desolations.

Unlike Enel, he didn't complain; he simply asked...

"it's over?"

Gern's gaze shifted from the two heads on the ground to Enel's impatient face, then to Barrett's calm yet questioning eyes.

Finally, the ashes fell back before him, the pile that symbolized the complete end of eight hundred years of rule.

And the black sword that accompanied him all the way, cutting through countless obstacles.

The gloom on his face quietly faded, and he nodded.

"Ah."

"ended."