RPAGF Chapter 603: Im's True Form Descends!
Chapter 603: Im's True Form Descends!
Above the Royal Palace of Elbaf.
As the teleportation array fully formed, its kilometers-wide patterns crashed down, casting a sky-covering shadow. The entire royal city and the surrounding ruins for miles around were completely engulfed. Thick, black flames ignited at the edges of the array patterns. The fire didn't emit light; it only consumed light. The clouds it touched were instantly burned through. A bottomless black hole was gnawed into the sky.
The swirling, howling mist of rubble and blood above the battlefield froze instantly. The array patterns closed. The airflow was firmly severed by invisible iron clamps. Snowflakes hovered in the void. Each glistening snowflake reflected the dark red of the array's core. Thousands of scarlet eyes opened simultaneously, looking down upon the ants beneath their feet.
A dark red aura suddenly poured out from the center of the teleportation array.
A substantial amount of pressure came crashing down.
Enough to crush the bone marrow inch by inch.
A dark red shockwave surged back. The ruins of Elbaf trembled violently. This oppressive force far exceeded that of Im's Stand by a hundredfold. It disdained to disguise itself as air or killing intent. The dark red waves were visible to the naked eye, surging and rolling from the heart of the formation, crashing heavily onto the ravaged earth.
The first wave crashed and shattered the palace's spire.
The magnificent structure, painstakingly built by ten generations of giant kings, constructed from the hardest frost-bone stone of the North Sea, impervious to a thousand years of wind and snow, now emitted a sickening cracking sound. The defensive line had collapsed.
"Click click click"
A muffled thud, like a dying beast grinding its teeth, echoed. Cracks as thick as a child's arm tore down from the spire. The bas-relief columns and domed windows snapped off one by one. Bricks and stones flew everywhere. The shattered boulders hung suspended in mid-air. The overflowing gravitational field of the array forcibly lifted them. The boulders spun several meters off the ground. The rules of falling were completely and forcibly erased.
The thirty-meter-tall bronze statue of the God of War in the forecourt knelt silently. Its heavy bronze knees pierced the frozen earth. Gray ripples visibly spread outwards. The statue's chest, shoulders, and sword-wielding arms caved in layer by layer. It disintegrated and floated in mid-air. Utter silence reigned.
Dead silence.
At the bottom of a shell crater thirty feet west of the ruins, Lockes looked up.
His feet sank into the frozen rock up to his knees. The moment the pressure hit, he instinctively lowered his waist. The hard earth collapsed like rubble. Dark power surged violently on his shoulders. Countless fragments of forbidden mythical power were pushed to their limits. Twisted, dark purple flames desperately pushed upwards, resisting the torrent of dark red energy.
That arrogant gaze now only held madness!
"Thief, hahahahaha."
"Here he comes, here he comes, finally he's here. Im has arrived."
I've read this name on the tattered pages of a forbidden book. I've seen this name on the abandoned altar of the Celestial Dragons. I've seen this name countless times in my dreams. That crimson gaze once shattered him in his most arrogant moment.
Experiencing it firsthand is entirely different. The dark purple flames around him visibly withered. The very concept of power yielded under that crimson gaze. Initiative. Humility. Shrinking. Darkness bowed before the deeper, eternal night.
On the other side of the battlefield. Whitebeard.
His thick arms gripped the Murakumo-giri tightly. Veins bulged and throbbed in his palms. He pushed the Tremor-Tremor Fruit to its absolute limit. Layers of high-density white light enveloped the blade. Countless vacuum cracks appeared in the air around the sword.
Looking up at the sky.
A dark red current of air from the depths of the hole crashed down, engulfing the body. The surrounding vibrational field was crushed and forced back inch by inch by the shockwave. The earthquake's proud power was forcibly torn away inch by inch before the sheer force of its existence.
The thick, battle-wounded arm trembled uncontrollably. Cells screamed in agony. Muscles, bones, and blood were all frantically issuing warnings.
get away.
Kneel down.
Close your eyes.
His jaw chattered and clenched. His soul was being ground to dust by an existence far beyond his comprehension.
A searing pain, like an old wound tearing open, gripped his chest. The dignity of the strongest man on the sea now bent his spine. His chest heaved violently. His facial muscles taut. A rough, broken voice escaped his throat.
"Gulalala"
The laughter was cut off half a second later.
"They've arrived."
"The formidable enemy has arrived."
He never mentioned his opponent, only his formidable foe. A man who had fought admirals for half his life, a man who had battled the Pirate King to the death. The moment he uttered those two words, the eyes of his kneeling sons around him instantly turned bloodshot.
On the edge of the battlefield, Garin, the commander of the Knights of God, slammed his knees to the ground.
He knelt down voluntarily, ignoring the pirate's blade dripping blood ten paces away, ignoring the decapitation strike that could fall at any moment. His eyes were fixed on the sky.
Pebbles pierced their knees. Blood and flesh splattered, yet they felt no pain. The surviving knights dropped their swords and knelt. Their ghostly killing intent vanished, replaced by a frenzied, burning, and utterly appalling devotion.
Eyes bulged. Staring intently at the dark red beam of light. Tears silently washed away the blood on his cheeks. Lips convulsed violently. Repeatedly uttering obscure and strange syllables. It was a prayer reserved for priests deep within the sacred ground.
"Lord Im has arrived, and the long-awaited end has come."
Garin's voice ripped and soared, transforming into a frenzied, sobbing roar. He madly kowtowed to the dark red pillar of light, his forehead smashing through rubble. Once. Twice. Three times. Blood stained his graying hair and soaked the frozen earth. He recklessly smashed his head, his flesh tearing open, yet he laughed maniacally.
The pirate with the knife stood frozen in place.
I've spent half my life at sea encountering countless madmen, but I've never seen anything like this. The one kneeling on the ground seems more like a winner than the one standing.
A thousand meters above the teleportation array, Chen Ye stood atop the feathered crown of Vidvernier.
The storm shredded everything around him. A complete vacuum formed within a foot of his body. The hem of his black trench coat churned wildly, emitting a sharp crack. His ramrod-straight back was firmly welded to the eagle's head. He remained completely still.
look up.
His grey-gold pupils locked onto the teleportation array, several kilometers wide, reflecting the intense dark red at its core. His gaze severed everything around him. The crumbling palace. The floating boulders. The kneeling knights. The tense pirates. The roaring Rocks. The stubbornly holding on to his white beard. All of them, get out of his sight.
His eyes were filled with only that dark red. His expression was as cold and hard as iron.
Completely unprepared.
He didn't bother to resist at all. He simply withstood the force of the airflow head-on. The pressure, enough to make the ocean's overlord tremble and kneel in fear, struck him precisely. His trench coat clung to his skin, his hair was pulled straight down, and the eagle feather crest beneath his feet was pressed down by the weight. Yet he himself remained completely unharmed.
The two exist on parallel tracks, forever undisturbed. He withstands immense pressure, undisturbed. He is the sole exception to this law of oppression.
Left hand behind his back. Right hand hanging down. A pale golden eagle-shaped mark flickers on his palm. His movements are tightly locked onto the pulse of the high-altitude teleportation array. With each beat, the turbulent airflow around him is forcibly smoothed out, transforming into a stable, warm golden breeze unique to him.
Vidvernier noticed it. He perceived it even earlier than Chenye.
The ancient overlord's chest trembled violently. Its heart stopped the instant the teleportation array formed. It felt no fear. The proud bloodline of this sky overlord had long since lost any genes for fear. Only the instinct of a top predator raged out a frantic warning. The array undeniably exuded the purest and deepest power.
hostility.
The hostility wasn't directed at it. It came from an existence of equal antiquity, condemning all those who refused to submit to its gaze upon it with a death sentence.
Amber-colored eagle eyes flashed with overwhelming killing intent. Broad wing roots bulged with muscles. Steel-needle feathers stood on end. Eerie blue lightning danced at the wingtips. Head lowered. A muffled thunderous roar escaped its throat. It wanted to spread its wings and tear the sky apart before that monstrous thing could descend. To expel it from the realm.
In the milliseconds it takes for the wings to lift.
Chen Ye moved.