One Piece : Brotherhood Chapter 614

"So this is what a living Ancient Weapon is capable of..."

My voice was swallowed almost instantly by the abyss. Down here, in the black womb of the world, sound didn’t echo—it was devoured. There was no sky, no horizon, no light—only the crushing weight of the ocean pressing against my skin like the breath of so ancient god trying to smother .

Shusui humd in my hand, its black blade gleaming with threads of violent Haki—the only sliver of light for hundreds of miles. A shape moved in the darkness. Then another. Then an entire wall of bioluminescent dots flickered alive, outlining a monstrous form erging from the gloom.

A Sea King—shaped like a colossal seahorse, its spiraled bone crest glowing faintly with sickly green runes. Its eyes, wide and empty, stared at without a hint of thought—just the raw compulsion of Poseidon’s command.

I exhaled as my haki rose higher, and I swung. Shusui carved a black crescent through the water—too fast to disturb the stillness, too sharp to create resistance. The blade passed through the beast’s armored neck, and for a brief heartbeat nothing happened.

Then—WHUUU-BOOM!

The creature’s head separated, drifting upward like a floating island. A geyser of dark, high-pressure water erupted from its severed neck, illuminating the abyss in a pillar of shimring blood. The headless titan convulsed, its tail smashing into a ridge of ancient stone and sending a shockwave rippling across the sea floor.

I steadied myself. Even after cutting down hundreds, it still felt endless.

"I’ll give you credit, Poseidon... Your influence is ridiculous."

The darkness stirred. Dozens of faint glows flared alive—eyes, scales, bioluminescent sacs, each pair belonging to sothing impossibly massive. And these were just the ones close enough to see. However, my Observation Haki painted an entirely different picture of the true extent of their numbers.

The deep ocean battlefield spread in every direction like a cetery of titans—Sea Kings larger than anything that lived on the surface. Ancient, primordial species that hadn’t been seen by mankind in tens of thousands of years. Leviathans whose bodies were continents, whose silhouettes blotted out entire sections of the abyss.

And every one of them was screaming. Not with sound. Not even with instinct. But with Poseidon’s fractured will—twisted by Imu’s chains into sothing rabid and blind. I stretched out my Voice of All Things towards Poseidon, the ethereal pulse casting invisible ripples through the water.

During God Valley, Rock’s voice—his true will—cried out beneath the chains. A desperate roar inside the storm. But now... Nothing. Poseidon’s real voice was gone—buried beneath an absolute command.

"This isn’t insanity," I muttered as a centipede-like Sea King the length of a mountain lunged from below. "It’s erasure."

The beast struck downward with its shovel-shaped armored head, generating a pressure wave strong enough to pulverize stone. I shifted with unnatural speed under the crushing depth.

BA-DOOM!

The monster missed—its impact cracking the seabed into a crater the size of a town. Shards of stone and volcanic rock floated upward like weightless dust. I answered. Shusui tore through the water like an executioner’s blade.

The beast split open from head to abdon—a single perfect cut. Its glowing organs spilled out in luminous ribbons, lighting the abyss with a ghostly green-and-blue sheen.

But even before its corpse drifted apart—another roar. Another glow. Another titan lunging forward to replace it. Endless. Relentless. Overwhelming.

I pushed forward, slicing through a massive jellyfish-like creature whose tentacles crackled with paralytic electricity. The shock traveled across my Haki-hardened skin like static before dying away. Then a colossal crab-shaped Sea King scuttled out of a cloud of drifting carcasses, its claws as large as battleships snapping like thunder.

It swung down—I appeared above the claw and drove Akatsuki downward. Its entire shell split apart, sending a cloud of bioluminescent fluid across the abyss like drifting stars. The light dimd. Darkness returned. And still—more eyes opened. More bodies moved. More monsters surged.

"This is just going to be endless if I keep targeting the seakings," I muttered. "A goddess who doesn’t even know she’s screaming."

A monstrous turtle-shaped titan erged ahead, its shell covered in ancient runes as old as the sea itself. Its maw opened, revealing a pulsing throat sac building a sonic concussive attack capable of pulverizing the deep ocean mountains. Its roar tore the water apart, shattering pillars of black stone like glass. I raised Shusui.

"Hmph."

The shockwave hit head-on. And broke. Lightning-like cracks rippled across the turtle’s attack—then across its skull—before splitting its head open like a ripe lon. The titan sank.

But the abyss shook again. More shadows. More killing intent. More chaotic flickers of Poseidon’s corrupted will. Her command echoed through the deep like a heartbeat made of vengeance and rage.

It wasn’t her. No warmth. No song. No gentle voice of the sea. Just the cold automation of a puppet strung by a tyrant god. My fingers tightened around the hilt.

"Poseidon..." Both Akatsuki and Shusui vibrated with feral hunger. "I’m cutting my way to you."

And with a single step—a burst of Conqueror’s lightning tearing through the abyss like a falling star—I dove headlong into the seemingly infinite army of ancient monsters, a lone blade warring against the ocean’s oldest children.

The abyss grew quieter the further I carved my way through it. Not because the Sea Kings had stopped coming—they still sward in the darkness, thousands upon thousands, ancient titans trembling yet compelled to obey.

No. The silence ca because sothing greater lood ahead. Sothing so old the ocean itself bowed to it. A pressure, a pulse. A vibration older than the tides, older than the moon, older than the sea itself. My Observation Haki sharpened, cutting through the drifting carcasses and shattered leviathans like a blade through fog. And as the darkness finally parted, I saw her again.

Since this battle began, Poseidon had never confronted directly. Every ti I broke through the horde she commanded, she retreated deeper, slipping away into the abyss like a frightened shadow. Her power was monstrous, yes—but clumsy and unfocused. She was a living natural disaster, not a swordfighter. And she seed to know it.

Whenever I pressed her, she fled. Whenever I closed the gap, she forced more titans forward.

A cycle of avoidance. But now—she wasn’t retreating, she wasn’t running, she was waiting.

Whether out of resignation... or because she no longer could flee. After hours of slaughter, I reached the massive silhouette coiled around the trench like a chain binding the world.

The ancient sea dragon—larger than islands, its body spanning the darkness like a continent.

Bioluminescent scars flickered along its scales, syncing with the broken rhythm of Poseidon’s will.

And seated upon its jagged crown—Poseidon. Her figure looked fragile, ghostlike in the crushing dark—but her presence warped the deep around her, bending water and gravity like extensions of her breath. Even the dragon beneath her—this primordial king of the trench—trembled under her weight.

I approached, silent even on the ocean floor. "...So this is what remains of you."

No answer. Only a twitch—a ripple of unnatural energy skittering across her skin. My Observation Haki shrieked. My Voice of All Things roared warnings so violently I stepped back without thinking. Shusui and Akatsuki rose before I even willed them, blades humming like snarling beasts. My Conqueror’s Haki burst out on instinct alone.

Sothing was wrong. So wrong even the ocean recoiled. Then—the abyss shook. Not from Poseidon’s power. Not from mine either. But from sothing far older. Sothing colder. A sound expanded from Poseidon’s body—not heard, but felt, like the ocean releasing a terrified breath.

Her head snapped upward. Her jaw clenched hard enough that cracks ford along her cheeks.

Her fingers spasd like strings being pulled by an unseen puppeteer. And then—I felt it as clear as day, the overwhelming presence of divine power.

Sharp. Undeniable. A new presence seeped into her like ink spreading through clear water. Her pupils dilated—then shifted, twisting unnaturally. Crimson bled outward, fracturing into a deeper, more alien shape.

Her eyes beca rings of void-black spirals, threaded with vertical slits glowing in cold violet, rotating slowly like eclipses devouring themselves. They didn’t reflect light—they swallowed it. Looking into them felt like staring into a well that had no bottom. My lungs tightened. Even the ocean seed to freeze around us.

Deep inside her chest, a thrum began—a heartbeat too sharp, too cold, and too ancient to belong to any living creature. Then a second heartbeat. Then a third.

Three rhythms—three wills—rging into one monstrous pulse that rippled through the entire abyss. A pressure wave hit so hard the dragon beneath her flattened against the trench floor. Realization crashed over .

"...Imu."

This was no influence. No remote control. No puppetry. This—this was the descent of a god.

Poseidon’s back snapped upright, spine cracking like shifting stone. Her hair erupted around her like black fire, drifting weightlessly yet burning the water around each strand. Black lightning spidered across her skin, carving tendrils of shadow into her flesh. A formless silhouette—pitch-black and twisting—rose from her spine like a phantom, then dove back into her body, embedding itself deep within.

Her mouth opened—no sound ca. Only a silent scream that shook the trench walls. Her eyes turned fully black with those concentric rings. Then—ignited in cold violet fla. Poseidon ceased. Her soul was gone. Only a vessel remained.

The sea dragon roared—not with the fury of a beast commanded, but with the desperation of a king realizing he now served a different master. Sea Kings for kiloters fled in blind panic—

not obeying her, but escaping sothing they had never known could exist. Poseidon’s borrowed body lifted weightlessly, limbs dangling like a marionette, hair writhing like a nest of serpents.

Pressure tore through the abyss. Ridges of the sea dragon’s scales shattered, bursting into dust. The trench floor cracked like brittle bone, fissures webbing outward into the dark. The ocean bent. The deep warped. Reality itself seed to ripple around her. This wasn’t Poseidon.

This wasn’t even the Ancient Weapon. This was IMU.

And for the first ti in decades—I felt fear lance through . A cold, ancient dread whispering that even my Conqueror’s Haki strained under this presence. My blades vibrated.

My lungs struggled to expand. Imu had descended. And the abyss bowed.

"So you have finally decided to grace with your presence... at last?"

My voice was steady—far steadier than the hamring in my chest suggested. For an instant—

a heartbeat’s width—fear had sliced through like a blade of ice. Imu’s descent was unlike anything I had ever witnessed, unlike anything even my Voice of All Things could comprehend. But that fear was crushed under the weight of my will.

I reminded myself: I had always known this mont would co. From the day I arrived in this world, and when years ago I first gazed into that abyssal eye through the Ritual Circle—when Imu’s re presence had shattered my spirit for weeks—I knew I was destined to stand before a god.

That ti, I had been a trembling shadow. Now—I stood tall. Imu’s pressure, once suffocating, no longer bent my knees. Imu’s aura,once enough to splinter my resolve, now only fanned the flas of my defiance.

Her possession of Poseidon warped the ocean around us like gravity gone mad—yet I inhaled, exhaled, and felt myself grow steadier despite being under the very depths of the ocean. My Conqueror’s Haki surged in answer—black streaks crackling through the water, tearing the silt from the trench, warping the very current. Imu pressed down with divine force. I pressed back.

Two wills collided—mortal and god—and the abyss shuddered from the clash. A sound like distant thunder rolled through the water. The god’s voice followed.

"Rosinante..."

It drifted through the deep like a whisper carried by a dying current, yet it reverberated like a command spoken by the sea itself. Cold. Eternal. Indifferent. Not human. Never human. Around us, the ocean seed to bow. Most of the Sea Kings had fled into the far darkness the instant Imu overtook Poseidon’s body.

Her possession tore the weapon’s influence apart, freeing the ancient titans—and they ran, sensing a will they were never ant to stand before. Only the colossal sea dragon remained beneath her—not out of loyalty, not out of obedience, but because Imu’s overwhelming spiritual pressure pressed it down like a mountain upon a mountain.

Its massive head lay pinned against the trench floor, the bones of the earth groaning under the force. Its eyes—once glowing with Poseidon’s will—now quivered with primal terror. Even the king of the abyss trembled. I tightened my grip on Shusui and Akatsuki. Their edges humd, reacting to my spirit rising in the presence of a god.

Imu’s gaze locked onto —those bottomless, violet-flad eyes that swallowed light, swallowed hope, and swallowed reason.

"Your defiance is... unchanged," Imu’s voice whispered through Poseidon’s unmoving lips.

The water vibrated from the sound alone.

"And yet... you no longer kneel in the presence of a god."

The abyss warped as she rose slightly from the dragon’s crown—hair drifting like tendrils of darkness, black lightning crawling along her limbs. The pressure intensified, crushing, suffocating—yet I planted my foot forward. I refused to yield.

"I have told myself before," I said, my Conqueror’s Haki flaring again, pushing back her divine suppression, "that if I ever stood before you again, I would not bow."

A crack split the trench beneath us. The sea dragon convulsed, struggling for breath. Imu tilted their head—not like a person, not like a creature—but like sothing mimicking the gesture without understanding its aning.

"A mortal," they murmured, "challenging a god."

The abyss dimd around us as if the ocean itself feared her words. I raised my twin blades, my spirit surging hot through the crushing cold of the deep.

"I’m not challenging a god," I said. "I’m hunting one."

Imu’s lips curved—not into a smile. Into an expression more ancient, more alien—a silent acknowledgnt that sothing had shifted.

"Mortal ambition," they said softly, "is amusing."

The sea scread—the trench walls groaned—and the abyss trembled in anticipation of the coming clash. My heart beat steadily. My haki steadier. I had faced death, monsters, tyrants, and destiny. But this—facing a god head-on—was what I had been walking toward all along. And now, finally, it was ti to see if I could stand against the divine.

"Just because you’ve stumbled upon a fragnt of divinity... do you truly believe you can stand against the god who rules this world?"

Imu’s voice carried no trace of emotion—no anger, no irritation—only a cold certainty. Even now, they did not consider a threat worth prioritizing. Their presence swelled, and with it, their Haki rose higher and higher, climbing like an ever-ascending tide as though seeking the true upper limits of my own Conqueror’s Haki.

But my will refused to bend. My Haki surged upward to et theirs, clashing against the world-warping pressure without yielding even an inch.

"If I desire it, I can crush you as easily as an insect," Imu continued. "But you... amuse , mortal. So I will grant you a choice. Serve —stand by my side—and this world can be yours. I can give you everything you desire and more. Deny my offer, however..." Their voice dropped, colder than the abyss. "And only oblivion awaits you."

It was not a proposal. It was a command—from soone who had lived their entire existence expecting absolute obedience. Even the so-called "gifts" Imu offered were nothing but shards of their own power, blessings that could be taken back the instant they willed it. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips.

No—it wasn’t an offer. It was a reaction. They had felt it: that burst of my Haki earlier, the one carrying a trace of sothing ancient... sothing they believed long extinct. They feared it—feared it enough to bury the truth beneath arrogance and threats.

My eyes drifted to Poseidon, her form twisted and monstrous, trident in hand, a demonized god forced into service.

"So you want to beco one of your lapdogs?" I asked, tightening my grip on Akatsuki. "To live and die at your command?"

With a single swing, I sent a flying slash cleaving through the ocean itself, carving a path of destruction through the depths. But Poseidon moved, the colossal trident sweeping upward like a mountain rising from the seabed. The impact shattered my attack effortlessly, erupting in a storm of bubbles and shockwaves.

"Insolence!" Imu roared.

And then—sothing changed. Their Haoshoku no longer felt like Conqueror’s Haki. It began to twist, to evolve, to shed the constraints of mortals. The sky trembled. The sea recoiled. Space itself seed to groan under the pressure. This was no ordinary Haki.

For the first ti, I felt it—Divine Haki. Not a new form, but an ascension—an evolution of Conqueror’s Haki beyond any mortal boundary. A power held only by those who called themselves gods.

The world around us dimd, colors draining as if reality itself were being crushed under Imu’s will. Their aura didn’t simply expand—it descended, like a divine judgnt. The mont the Divine Haki washed over , the Haki I had raised like an indomitable fortress... began to crack.

Just hairline fractures at first. Tiny, trembling splits in the wall of my spirit. But they spread.

And for the first ti in this battle, the overwhelming truth struck —Imu wasn’t rely testing . They were reminding the world what a god truly was.

For the first ti in my life... I felt it. Divine Haki. Not the overwhelming force of a supre king—but the suffocating presence of a god. Imu’s Divine Haki crushed the world beneath it. The sea buckled. The sky scread. Even my own Haki—my fortress, my pride—splintered under its weight like cracked stone.

So this... This was the myth whispered in the forbidden records of Skypiea, hinted at in the lost texts of Ohara, and feared in the oral histories of Elbaf. A Haki not of rulers—but of deities. A Haki said to be wielded only by those with the right not to command kings, but to judge creation itself.

And under that pressure—absolute, rciless, undeniable—I should have fallen. But instead... I grinned.

"It seems," I whispered as the cracks in my Haki froze, "that I still have room for growth." Imu’s eyes widened by a fraction. A microscopic break in their divine calm—but enough to tell they sensed it too. Sothing stirring. Sothing ancient.

"It seems trying to face you in my mortal form..." My voice deepened, layered with an echo not entirely my own. "...was foolish."

At first, it was a spark, a pulse, a heartbeat that wasn’t entirely mine.

Thump.

The ocean trembled.

Thump.

The sky split with thin fractures of white light.

Thump.

Reality itself wavered... as if the world recognized a presence it had once known and forgotten. My vision blurred— then expanded— then flooded with blinding radiance as a heat surged through my veins. It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t anger. It was awakening. The ancient will sealed within my fruit stirred from its slumber. My muscles tightened.

My breath grew heavy. And the seabed beneath began to glow with concentric rings of light—like divine seals breaking one after another.

Then—BOOOOM.

A blast of black lightning erupted from my back, streaking across the abyss like serpents of pure destruction. The ocean recoiled from my feet, spiraling into a massive whirlpool as if the sea itself feared touching .

My shadow expanded despite the lack of ambient light—stretching impossibly far—then rose, lifting from the ground like a living deity looming behind . Its shape was monstrous, multi-ard, and crowned, holding weapons of light and shadow. It rged back into . And the transformation began.

My skin shifted first—darkening into a deep storm-black hue, textured like molten stone cooled under cosmic pressure. Swirling golden lines carved themselves into my body, glowing with pulsing energy—ancient script, sacred geotry, markings of a god resurrected.

My hair lengthened, whipping upward in white-hot strands like flas caught in a celestial storm. Black lightning wreathed every strand. Then—the third eye opened. Right in the middle of my forehead, the vertical eye snapped open with a blinding golden shine. Its gaze pierced not just through Imu but through truth, lies, past, future, and the very fabric of fate. Where that eye looked, space rippled. The world seed to bend and distort around it.

My body surged upward—four ters... five... until I stood nearly six ters tall, towering with divine proportion. Each step made the air erupt outward, shockwaves shredding the ocean surface. My arms lengthened, braided with coiling lightning and wrapped in swirling, smoke-like divine aura. My shoulders broadened, my back widening into a silhouette reminiscent of ancient murals carved into forgotten temples.

Behind , a floating black sash unfurled—not cloth, not fabric, but darkness itself, drifting as if underwater, bending and folding reality with every movent.

For a brief mont—as the power surged past mortal limits— six spectral arms of light and shadow manifested behind . Two carried invisible drums that bood with each heartbeat.

One held a sphere of blazing creation. The other held a miniature galaxy collapsing into itself. While the last two carried divine blades of light and darkness, ready to strike down any who dared challenge . They weren’t physical—but echoes of the original god.

The world saw them, recognized them, and trembled. The arms dissolved into pure Haki—

funneling into my real limbs, empowering them beyond mortal comprehension.

My swords began to vibrate, resonating with a pitch so sharp it shattered the shells of distant sea beasts. Akatsuki drank the lightning surrounding , its blade glowing red—then it ruptured into a crimson divine sword, blazing like a fragnt peeled from the sun’s surface. Flas curled around it, but they didn’t burn—they annihilated.

My other sword, Shusui, darkened—its tal turning so black it swallowed the light around it. Stars flickered within the blade’s surface as if it held an entire night sky—a void-forged divine sword. One symbolized destruction. The other, Oblivion.

Twin aspects of the ancient deity. When I swung them, the air didn’t cut—it ceased to exist. The darkness of the void-forged divine sword consud everything in its path.