Imu's eyes were cold. It was not that she had ignored Marco before, but rather that he had risen too quickly for her to properly assess him.
Now, after a brief exchange, she realized just how abnormal his growth was. His speed of advancent was far beyond what any ordinary person could achieve.
Imu did not need evidence. As the ruler of the world, suspicion alone was enough.
Marco's power was still far from matching hers, but it had already beco a potential threat to her rule.
She disliked uncertainty. Any threat, no matter how small, was better eliminated early.
The two faced each other in silence for a long mont before Imu finally spoke.
"It seems you have refused."
Seeing that she had no intention of saying anything further, Marco gave a faint, dismissive response.
"Never mind. I am not interested in what you have to say anyway."
The black flas surrounding his body surged violently. With a powerful flap of his wings, Marco shot forward, closing the distance between them in an instant.
From their brief clash, he had already judged his chances.
He could win.
If he defeated Imu here, everything would be resolved.
Whether she was a transmigrator or not did not matter. Even if she was, it changed nothing. Marco had his own advantage. As long as he had enough ti, victory would eventually be his.
Imu showed no fear.
The two collided midair, their battle erupting once again. Black flas and violet sword pressure clashed violently, raining down like teors and carving craters into the ground below.
Then suddenly, blood trickled from Imu's arm.
A sharp pain spread through her body.
She understood imdiately.
This body was reaching its limit.
"The ti is shorter than expected," Imu murmured, a trace of regret in her voice.
This vessel was not her own. It could not withstand such overwhelming power, nor the strain of her Haki. Even though its original owner was strong, it was still far from capable of enduring her full strength.
Marco noticed the change as well.
Her aura was weakening.
He did not hesitate.
His flas surged as he pressed forward, his voice echoing through the battlefield.
"Destruction Black Fla, Dance of the Phoenix!"
Countless birds ford from black flas burst forth, streaking toward Imu like a storm.
With a single swing of her blade, she released a wave of sword pressure that annihilated them instantly.
Yet despite her strength, Marco could clearly see the strain on her body.
The vessel she possessed, Naronar Crimi, was deteriorating rapidly. Each attack pushed it further beyond its limits. The power she wielded simply exceeded what the body could endure.
This realization made Marco even more focused.
As long as the battle continued, her defeat was only a matter of ti.
But at that mont, a massive five-pointed star formation suddenly appeared above Saint Peter's head.
Everyone present imdiately recognized what it ant.
King's expression darkened.
"Damn it. Are they summoning the God's Knights again?"
With Imu's appearance alone, the sheer depth of the World Governnt's power had already beco clear. Any remaining hope of victory was beginning to fade.
This was no longer comparable to the war at Marineford.
A surge of overwhelming Conqueror's Haki erupted from the formation. Monts later, more than a dozen figures erged.
The pirates quickly noticed a familiar face among them.
Saint Nusjuro.
He had previously been cut down by Marco, his body split in two. Yet now, he stood there completely unhard, as if nothing had happened.
Marco's expression turned serious.
The nature of their immortality was truly troubleso. Unless they were completely destroyed in a single strike, they could recover fully given enough ti, just like his own Phoenix abilities.
He understood this better than anyone.
"It seems the only way to deal with the Gorosei is to strike directly at Mary Geoise," Marco muttered.
From his earlier battle, he had already figured out their thod. They used the summoning formation to travel. When severely injured, they could simply return, recover, and then be summoned back once healed.
A prolonged battle against them was nearly impossible to win.
Beside Nusjuro stood a red-haired man.
The pirates were shocked.
"He looks exactly like Red-Haired Shanks!"
"Is he his brother?"
Marco recognized him imdiately.
Saint Figarland Shamrock.
Seeing him here only made the situation more complicated.
Saint Charlos alone possessed strength comparable to an Admiral or even an Emperor. Now, with Nusjuro restored and the arrival of the God's Knights, their side was clearly at a disadvantage.
Even without asuring them individually, it was obvious that none of these figures were weak.
"This is getting troubleso," Marco thought.
With Imu, the Gorosei, and the God's Knights all present, the alliance of the Three Emperors was being steadily pushed back.
Their greatest weakness was now obvious.
They lacked high-level combat power.
Even Big Mom felt a chill in her heart.
For soone like her, the current battlefield was enough to inspire despair.
Imu glanced at the newly arrived forces and imdiately issued her commands.
"Nusjuro, assist in eliminating Marco."
"Shamrock, take your n and deal with Vegapunk."
"The rest of you, end the battle quickly. Prioritize eliminating Big Mom and Kaido."
"Yes, Imu-sama," the Celestial Dragons responded in unison.
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