Chapter 543: The Final Trump Card Unleashed

“Hmph. Back then, there was no need to use this trick.”

“Whitebeard, your death is at hand!”

Nassourang Saint brandished a bone-white spear and spurred his skeletal horse to charge forward.

Riding the white horse gave Nassourang Saint a height boost of five meters, but even then, he still wasn’t as tall as Whitebeard.

Whitebeard met him head-on, gripping Cloud Cutter in his hands. The two clashed at lightning speed, the clang of their weapons echoing in the air while their figures became nothing but blurs.

“Shanks, out of everyone, you’re the only one I can’t forgive.”

When Karl first attacked Mariejois, the number of Celestial Dragons plummeted. After that, the Five Elders and Im held a joint meeting.

No Celestial Dragon was allowed to kill their own or commit suicide.

The aim was to rebuild the Celestial Dragons’ population for the day they could power up the Heavenly King Uranus.

But Shanks had outright slaughtered an entire bloodline—almost a hundred Celestial Dragons gone. That was a flagrant violation of the rules they’d set.

With a furious roar, Marcus was suddenly engulfed in flames. His body transformed into a Garuda.

He had eaten the Mythical Zoan Devil Fruit: Garuda Form, gaining the ability to become the legendary bird from Hindu lore.

The Garuda, as described in Indian mythology, boasts fiery red feathers, razor-sharp talons and beak, and soars across the skies with flames blazing around it. In this form, Marcus could control fire, wielding blazing attacks of devastating power.

Meanwhile, Woqiuli Saint erupted from the smoke, activating the Fusion Fruit to turn patches of the ground into water, manipulating torrents to strike back!

“Sandstorm Burial!”

Suddenly, a massive desert whirlwind erupted by the river crossing at the front of the battlefield. It turned soil and buildings to sand, sweeping away every drop of water in its path.

“What?!”

“Crocodile, why are you this strong?”

As the sandstorm subsided, Woqiuli Saint exclaimed in shock.

“I’ve been hiding my strength all along, waiting for this day, Elder.”

Emerging beside Crocodile were Hawk Eyes, Moria, Boa Hancock, Jinbei and others. Their true strength had reached admiral level long ago, but they’d been lying low for years, only now revealing their power—which explained how they arrived at the Red Line so quickly.

“Meteor Volcano!”

“Ice Age!”

“Yasakani no Magatama!”

With the arrival of three Logia Devil Fruit users—Sakazuki, Kuzan and Borsalino—they wiped out the bulk of defenders to the east, west and south in moments.

Meanwhile, a wave of Revolutionary Army fighters was charging toward the plaza.

“Old man, whatever tricks you have left—show them all now.”

Suddenly, another voice echoed from above.

Everyone glanced up to see a small Sky Island slowly descending.

Standing atop it were White Tiger, Krell, Sparrow, Davis, Thompson, Notty, Fields, Jennifer, Brown, Hunter, Smith, Halil, Gan Fall and more.

They were the last reinforcements to join the battle and had just finished guarding Karl’s side.

“So, you’ve planned everything from the start.”

“But don’t think we’ll just roll over for you.”

“Clap clap!”

Foreseeing Karl’s full-scale assault on Mariejois, Marcus had already prepared another trump card, moved it under the plaza in advance.

With a smug double clap, the plaza floor suddenly opened, revealing 19 golden coffins. Each one was carved with beautiful designs and inlaid with a rainbow of dazzling jewels.

“Since you refuse to appreciate our kindness, taste the true strength of the World Government.”

Click!

A faint sound of gears echoed from one of the golden coffins. The covers of all 19 coffins slowly lifted, exposing the shriveled figures within.

Each one wore royal vestments and a golden crown.

“That’s Prince Sliya.”

“And that’s Prince Orton.”

“Damn you, Celestial Dragons! How could you turn our great leaders into war machines?”

From a corner of the plaza, more than a dozen white-haired elders stepped forward.

They were descendants of those from 800 years ago. Initially content to watch from the sidelines, they could no longer stay silent after seeing their leaders’ bodies twisted into weapons of war.

“You actually used the methods of the House of the Gods to modify the corpses of heroes long dead, making them into war machines. Aren’t you afraid their vengeful spirits will come for you?”

Leading them was a white-haired elder named Bolton, the most faithful supporter of Prince Orton.

Eight centuries ago, they’d followed Prince Orton to overthrow the Great Kingdom. Who could have foreseen Im’s sudden betrayal, capturing all their princes, killing or scattering even their loyal followers?

After centuries of imprisonment, they’d given up hope of ever seeing their princes again. Who’d have thought their reunion would happen under such dire circumstances?

“Oh?”

“So you managed to escape. Doesn’t matter. If you want to see your prince, then let him send you on your way.”

Marcus fiddled with something next to the coffins.

The 19 royal war machines’ eyes snapped open, glowing blood-red. Without hesitation, they stepped out of their coffins.

“Go. Everyone on this field is your enemy. Slaughter them without restraint.”

“Whoosh whoosh whoosh!”

Activated, the war machines each locked onto a target and charged at blistering speed.

Every one of them possessed the peak fighting strength of an admiral. Just imagine—these bodies had been sealed for 800 years; how strong had they been in life?

“My prince, I know you wouldn’t want your body used this way by the enemy. Allow this old man to set you free for good.”

With a furious shout, Bolton thrust a stolen golden spear at Orton’s body.

Squelch!

“How is this possible?!”

To Bolton’s shock, the spearhead lodged deep in Prince Orton’s chest—but didn’t move an inch. Instead, Orton pushed back, the butt of the spear bursting straight through Bolton’s right side.

“Ack! Hah!”

Blood poured from his mouth before he could recover. With a murderous glint, Orton snapped the spear in two, then lunged forward. Grabbing Bolton at the wound, he tore him apart with his bare hands—the blood coming down like rain.

“Bolton?”

“No matter what they turned you into, you’re still our prince. But things have gone too far for regrets. No holding back, everyone—attack together!”

The remaining white-haired elders swarmed Orton, but his altered body was hard as iron. Their attacks didn’t leave a scratch. In the blink of an eye, another elder was ripped in two.

Elsewhere, Fields and the others each picked an opponent, with Jinbei and the rest joining in. Though the enemies were divided, the fights were brutal—everyone struggled and quickly lost the upper hand.

Worse—trading injuries didn’t work. No one knew how, but their foes’ bodies were so tough, nothing seemed to hurt them.

“So this is the World Government’s final card?”

“No wonder the Five Elders never left the plaza. All for this moment.”

“Karl, I can’t hold on much longer!”

As Karl watched the World Government unveil yet another trump card with interest, Ledfield’s distress call sounded overhead.

Looking up, he saw most of the beams in the sky had vanished—replaced by fewer, much thicker, and more powerful ones aimed directly at the plaza. The plan was clear: wipe out the strongest of Karl’s allies in one blast.

“Heh, am I about to become Superman for three minutes?”

Karl pulled out the prize from his last lottery spin before arriving here.

Most were just junk or potions, but the coveted ‘Three Minutes of Superman’s Underpants’—a second rare win—was among them.

Last time he used it, he smashed straight through a Heavenly King. He wondered how many he’d flatten this time.

Now, Karl’s own strength had peaked at the level of wearing his red underpants outside, but to break through to cosmic speed, he still needed a boost. The red underwear would be his final push.

“Here I come, Im. Let’s see what trick you have left.”

In a flash, Karl pulled the red underpants over his clothes and shot into the sky like a meteor.

Luckily, Ledfield’s crows still masked most of the sky, or everyone would have seen Karl’s heroic underwear moment—and the dignity he’d worked decades to maintain might have disappeared in an instant.

“Karl! You’re finally here?”

Im’s ethereal voice drifted over, but didn’t carry far.