"Damn it..."

Caught in the twisted, ripping storm, Saint Michael watched in horror as four blades of icy light flashed again and again through his body. The searing pain of being pierced a thousand times blurred his vision as his pupils began to fade.

The crushing pressure and confinement from the hurricane were nothing compared to the invisible force field erupting from within him—it bound him so tightly he couldn't even lift a finger.

On top of that, his devastating injuries left him completely unable to summon his Armament Haki.

Yet none of this physical agony compared to the humiliation flooding his heart!

The most noble bloodline in the world flows through my veins!

I am a great and holy Celestial Dragon!

A god of this sea!

Most importantly, unlike those parasites rotting away in Mary Geoise, I... am the leader of the God's Knights. I am the "strongest Celestial Dragon"!

I, Saint Jaygarcia Michael, am not some filthy lab rat for insects like you to dissect and study!

His bloodied lips trembled, trying to unleash a frenzied roar.

Those two bastards were actually analyzing him—seriously—as if he were some specimen strapped to an operating table.

That kind of treatment should've been reserved for those pest species that should have been wiped out long ago!

For the "strongest Celestial Dragon," this was the ultimate disgrace!

But then, as that black-haired brat raised his hand in a mock grip, Michael felt the crushing force restraining him begin to loosen.

"You damn little... no matter what you try, you can't kill—"

Michael screamed, eyes bulging—only to realize with shock that his body was plummeting uncontrollably!

"What is this..."

His eyes widened as he saw every Devil Fruit user's worst nightmare rushing toward him at terrifying speed—

The sea!

"Let's see if you can withstand the iron law of the Devil Fruit," Daren said with a cold sneer.

"The cursed power comes with a price—and that price is being forever rejected by the sea."

As he finished speaking, he forcefully slammed his empty hand downward.

Michael's terrified eyes widened even more as his descent accelerated, until the vast blue swallowed him whole.

Plop. Plop...

The instant the icy water engulfed him, Michael's pupils shrank violently. His body instantly lost all strength, limbs hanging limp as he sank.

Bubbles surged from his mouth and nose. A fear and despair unlike anything he had ever known consumed him, as deep and dark as the sea itself.

Am I... going to die?

What a joke...

To think that I, Saint Jaygarcia Michael, would drown...

In a daze, flashes of memory spiraled through his unfocused eyes like a revolving lantern.

The prodigy of the Jaygarcia family,

Growing up under the adoration and reverence of countless people,

Champion after champion in the World Noble Hunting Tournaments,

Chosen for the God's Knights,

Overcoming obstacle after obstacle, leading government forces in the capture and slaughter of the Buccaneer Race,

Rising under the gaze of countless peers to become the leader of the God's Knights,

Becoming the "strongest" Celestial Dragon...

Scene after scene—his younger self, silver-haired, brandishing a Western sword, cutting down insects with cold ruthlessness, staining the earth with blood.

And finally, all the images converged on a single defiant face with short black hair.

He saw that insect declare war on the World Government before the eyes of the entire world.

"Damn you, Rogers Daren..."

"You have no idea just how terrifying the thing you're about to face truly is..."

The Celestial Dragon murmured faintly.

The silver-white hair faded completely, and the black smoke dissipated.

His pupils lost their final trace of focus.

…

Ten minutes later...

Beside the massive fissure that split the island, Dragon and Daren crouched at the shoreline, their bodies covered in wounds. One of them held a lit cigar, taking occasional drags.

The roaring waves surged through the crack, echoing with deafening force. Steam rose from the water, making the salty, fishy wind even colder and more biting.

"His presence is gone."

Dragon suddenly seemed to sense something. He stood up abruptly, eyes locked onto the sea, and let out a laugh.

"He's dead! Daren, your plan worked!"

"As expected, even a monster like him couldn't withstand the curse of a Devil Fruit!"

A spark of electricity flickered from Daren's fingertips. Moments later, a rush of bubbles broke the surface of the sea.

Splash!

Saint Michael's corpse suddenly surfaced, tossed up by the waves. The body of the Celestial Dragon, riddled with holes, was deathly pale from the cold seawater.

"Don't celebrate just yet."

Daren exhaled slowly, a trail of smoke curling from his lips. There was no trace of excitement or joy on his face—only grim seriousness.

Seeing Dragon's confused look, he shook his head and frowned.

"With those injuries and his life force nearly depleted, Saint Michael still managed to last ten whole minutes."

"You don't need me to spell out what that means, do you?"

Dragon froze for a second, then realization dawned on him. His expression went stiff, and he fell silent.

For someone at their level, holding their breath for ten minutes was easy. But that only applied to non–Devil Fruit users.

For a Devil Fruit user, the sea robs them of all strength, shutting down their vital functions in a matter of seconds. Most would drown faster than an ordinary person.

But Michael lasted ten full minutes!

And their next opponents were the Five Elders.

Given the nature of those five stubborn old men, if a real battle broke out, they wouldn't be facing just the Five Elders—they'd be up against a massive army.

That also meant today's scenario—where someone like Saint Michael was isolated, defeated, and left without rescue—was almost impossible to replicate.

The idea of tossing them into the sea and waiting for them to drown? Pure fantasy.

Ten minutes was more than enough time for the World Government's forces to pull them out again and again.

"So... there's really no way?"

Dragon slumped to the ground, looking lost.

Daren turned to glance at Dragon's face—still young, barely in his early twenties despite the weariness in his expression. After a moment's thought, he reached out, patted his shoulder, and smiled.

"At the very least, we've found a crack in the armor."

"It's still just a theory, but the Five Elders should fear the sea too. Maybe high-purity Seastone can restrain them."

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