Chapter 535: Giants on the March: The Fall of the Old World

Just as everyone stepped out of the palace they were met with an overwhelming sight—giants everywhere, destroying everything in their path. The scale of the chaos was staggering.

Boom!

Crash!

Amidst the thunder of explosions, buildings collapsed by the dozens. Dust filled the air as gunfire and shouting clashed above the so-called sanctuary of the Celestial Dragons, leaving everyone stunned.

“Has it really gotten this bad?”

“How did things end up like this?”

“Derlin, is this what you meant by ‘under control’?”

Derlin hadn’t gotten the latest updates. All he knew was that the Giant Tribe had joined the fight—he had no idea they were already less than a kilometer from the palace.

Hearing Marcus’s question, cold sweat broke out across his forehead.

No wonder Lord Im sent them out to clean up the mess.

With the giants breaking through to the palace core, not even Lord Im would be able to pinpoint Karl if he stayed lost among the crowd.

But what none of them knew was that, right as that thought crossed their minds, Karl—watching from midair, far from the battlefield—spotted the five of them instantly.

“You know the Five Elders?”

“Not a clue. In our day, those guys didn’t even exist!”

“Exactly. Maybe that brat Im might know them, but that’s about it.”

“Right. I’d recognize that bastard anywhere—even if he turned to dust. If he hadn’t begged us over and over, we’d never have joined that rebellion in the first place.”

“All of this, everything here, should’ve been ours.”

When the white-haired leader spoke, Karl’s gaze narrowed just a bit.

A moment later Karl smiled. “Welcome to the home of the Celestial Dragons, now ruled by the World Government under Im—the one who betrayed you all.”

“Go on, head down. If you see anyone dressed in gaudy clothes or golden armor—a Holy Knight—they all serve Im.”

“I’m sure you’ve been holding that grudge for a long, long time. Go let it out.”

These old-timers at least packed the punch of fake admirals—a great way to keep things from getting too rough for their side.

As for whether they lived or died, Karl didn’t care in the slightest.

There’s no space in this new era for relics of the old.

“We’re off, Karl,” one of them called.

“Thanks for pulling us out!”

“Farewell!”

Most called out friendly goodbyes; a few just leapt straight from Skypiea without another word.

“Father, should we—”

Perospero bent forward, whispering to Karl.

After all, these folks only got free because of Father. So why did none of them seem grateful at all?

If they’d known, maybe they never should’ve been saved in the first place.

“Easy. People die on a battlefield—that’s just the way it is, right?”

“Understood, Father!”

Perospero caught on quick, turned and quietly explained it all to his brothers and sisters.

Their confusion finally eased.

“The heavy hitters in the middle of the battlefield are finally moving. Let’s send in our people. No sense letting our frontline fighters die for nothing.”

“Send everyone except those on emergency detail.”

Karl noticed that the central forces in the plaza were now being rallied by the Five Elders, spreading in all directions, pushing their side back every step.

He didn’t know exactly what forced the World Government to commit everything rather than wait for his arrival, but whatever they wanted to do, he’d make sure they failed.

Even if they wanted to burn incense for Karl, he’d break off a few sticks on the way for good measure.

“Don’t worry, Father. We had people posted ahead of their advance long ago.”

Perospero’s reply brought a satisfied smile to Karl’s face.

That’s why he’s the perfect steward—always a plan in place. As more of his children slipped away behind him, Karl nodded approvingly, then pulled a Den Den Mushi from his coat.

“Brr-brr! Brr-brr!”

“Hello, Dragon?”

“The folks down there are too slow. Why isn’t the fighting finished yet? Maybe you should go down and drag them back up here?”

“Wahaha!”

Dragon glanced at Cracker blocking his path on the battlefield, then called over Kuma in silence.

“Kuma, you’ll take over command here. Don’t let the Revolutionary Army’s forces take heavy losses. I’ll be back soon.”

Kuma’s sharp ears picked up Karl’s voice from the snail. He answered in a low rumble. “Don’t worry, Dragon. I’ve got it.”

Dragon clapped Kuma’s shoulder, then turned into a wisp of wind, vanishing from the earth as he flew toward Navy Headquarters.

Most Navy commanders had already fallen under his banner. If he went in person, the battle between Navy and pirates would end in an instant.

He could stop the fighting below and bring in a flood of warriors for this grander war.

…

“You’re not getting through here!”

Clad in biscuit armor and wielding the Magic Blade Thousand Edge, Cracker blocked five Holy Knights in their tracks.

Behind him stood a hundred Biscuit Soldiers.

“There’s always someone looking to die—seems like there’s a lot more than usual this year.”

“Enough talk. Attack together.”

“Just what I wanted!”

Cracker flicked his blade, and the Biscuit Soldiers marched forward, charging at the Holy Knights.

Kuma immediately signaled the Revolutionary Army nearby to fall back. He stood by, ready to jump in if Cracker couldn’t hold the line.

What happened next left Kuma speechless: every time a Holy Knight fought desperately and shattered a Biscuit Soldier, there’d be a soft crackle—and the soldiers would piece themselves back together right on the spot.

They’d jump right back into the fray, just as tough and fast as before.

“To catch a leader, take out the king. If we keep fighting like this, we’ll be worn down to nothing.”

“The rest of you cover me. Make a path—I’ll go after the one wielding a different weapon. That’s probably the real one.”

One Holy Knight spotted a biscuit soldier in the back, wielding a ghostly blue long blade—surely the real Cracker was hidden inside.

“Hurry and get him to finish this, or nobody’s getting out alive.”

“Right. Go on, we’ll cover you.”

The five formed a tight circle. Four of them hurled their golden round shields at the soldiers ahead, smashing three or four out of the way.

The one in front nodded, gripped his golden spear and surged forward. Even as the biscuits reformed, he finished them off just to be safe.

“Biscuit Minister, Lux-Cracker! Your time is up!”

He didn’t hesitate for a second, unleashing his full strength as he closed in.

His spear turned pitch-black, clad in Armament Haki.

“What made you think things would be that simple?”

“That armor’s not to protect me.”

Cracker’s hand-to-hand skills were far beyond ordinary—he’d undergone the Titan Gene injection. After decades honing his power, even a top admiral’s attacks couldn’t put him down.

The Biscuit Soldiers were just for clearing the rabble.