"Seven hundred million Berries."
Those four words rang like a funeral bell, shattering the last fragile illusion of hope.
Gern hadn't merely stormed the tea party. He hadn't merely defeated a commander. He had dragged the eldest son of the Big Mom Pirates—their Candy Minister, worth seven hundred million—and tossed him at the feet of a Yonko as if presenting dessert.
It was provocation in its purest, most naked form.
"MAMAAAAA—!!!"
Big Mom's laughter twisted into a roar, a tidal wave of sound that swept through the hall. Her colossal body trembled with fury as dark crimson lightning crackled around her—Conqueror's Haki made visible.
"Gern, you arrogant little Marine brat! Don't think beating Newgate and Shiki makes you invincible!!"
Her voice boomed like cannon fire.
"I am an 'Emperor' too!!!"
Her Haki descended like a mountain, crushing down with a soul-grinding pressure that seemed intent on pulverizing Gern where he stood.
And yet—
Facing the full brunt of Big Mom's Conqueror's Haki, Gern Reginald Sigmar did not even frown. He simply lifted his eyes calmly.
"Heh."
A cold chuckle slipped from his lips.
Then—
A surge of dark violet Conqueror's Haki erupted from him. Vast. Majestic. Yet far more condensed. It carried a bone-chilling will—sharp, cutting, absolute.
There was no exaggerated spectacle.
Only an authority that felt capable of severing all things.
"BOOM—!!!"
The two torrents of Conqueror's Haki collided head-on.
There was no explosive clang—only a deep, mournful shockwave that burst outward in a suffocating pulse.
Within a five-kilometer radius, everything was blasted away.
The ornate decorations. The delicate dessert towers. The guests and Charlotte children who had barely managed to stay conscious. Even high-ranking officers like Cracker were hurled backward by the invisible impact.
In an instant, the central battlefield was cleared.
Only bare ground remained.
And the two figures standing in defiant opposition.
Wind whipped Gern's hair as he stood in the open space, staring at Big Mom—whose eyes had grown even more vicious.
The infuriating smile never left his face.
"What?" he asked lightly. "You don't like my 'gift'?"
Big Mom's massive chest heaved violently. She laughed from sheer rage.
"Like it? Mama loves it!"
Her gaze twisted into something monstrous.
"So Mama will give you a proper 'return gift'!!!"
Before the echo of her roar faded—
"Prometheus! Zeus!"
At her call, the Homies hovering at her sides transformed instantly.
She snatched the bicorne hat from her head. It stretched and warped in her grasp, reshaping in seconds into a colossal blade gleaming with murderous steel.
Napoleon.
At the same time, the white cloud Zeus let out a thunderous roar, swelling in size. His body darkened into a storm-black thundercloud, lightning raging violently within.
Prometheus bellowed as well, surging upward in a blaze. Flames coiled around Big Mom's pink hair, turning it into a crown of roaring fire.
Emperor Sword—Napoleon.Thundercloud—Zeus.Sun—Prometheus.
Charlotte Linlin stood revealed in her full battle form—blade in hand, thunder at her feet, fire in her hair.
Like a goddess of flame and lightning descending from hell itself.
Her strongest stance.
The three-in-one manifestation of her Emperor's might.
"Are you ready to receive Mama's 'return gift,' Marine brat?!"
Her roar still vibrated through the air—
But her arm had already swung.
Napoleon cleaved downward, wrapped in dense crimson Conqueror's Haki. Violent lightning snapped along the blade's edge. There was no flourish, no wasted movement—only overwhelming force.
Before the sword even reached him, the compressed Haki pressure split the ground beneath Gern's feet, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
A strike that could bisect a mountain.
Gern's eyes narrowed slightly.
He did not draw Bahuang from his back.
Instead, he stepped half a pace back, lowering his center of gravity. His right fist clenched tight as Armament Haki flooded over it like flowing black metal.
Dark violet Conqueror's lightning coiled around his arm.
Vibration particles compressed to their limit at the point of his knuckles.
Only Conqueror's Haki could neutralize Conqueror's Haki.
He intended—
To meet the Emperor's blade with his bare fist.
"Black Quake—Falling Star!!"
"BOOOOOOM—!!!"
A fist wrapped in Conqueror's Haki and seismic force collided with the descending Emperor Sword like two meteors crossing paths in opposite directions.
There was no shrill clash of steel.
Only a suffocating, bass-heavy detonation.
A spherical shockwave erupted outward, gouging the already devastated ground three meters deeper. Crimson and violet Haki lightning lashed and annihilated each other in violent arcs, hissing and crackling.
Napoleon's blade pressed firmly against Gern's fist—
And could not advance even an inch.
A flicker of surprise crossed Big Mom's eyes before she snorted.
"Hmph! That's the old geezer Garp's style of punching, isn't it?!"
Her gaze sharpened as she stared at Gern's immovable fist, at the perfect fusion of Haki and vibration dancing across it.
"No wonder it felt familiar."
Her lips curled.
"You've learned quite a bit to grow this far."
"Mamamamama—but it's not enough!"
Her monstrous, innate strength—among the very peak of the Pirate King's world—erupted without restraint.
"Your power is too small!!!"
In that instant, an overwhelming force surged through Napoleon's blade, slamming down with irresistible might.
Gern's pupils contracted.
The vibration particles condensed at his fist began to hum under the crushing pressure.
The ground beneath him exploded into a massive crater.
His body was blasted backward like a blurred afterimage.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM—!"
He smashed through multiple thick castle walls in succession, debris and dust erupting in his wake, before finally skidding to a halt amid shattered stone and smoke.
"Cough…"
Gern rose slowly from the rubble, brushing dust and fragments from his shoulder.
A grin spread across his lips.
Not frustration.
Not anger.
But exhilaration.
"My strength…" he murmured softly. "Whitebeard praised it. Instructor Zephyr acknowledged it. Even Garp was surprised. Shiki once questioned it…"
He flexed his right arm, feeling the faint numbness running through it.
There was no trace of defeat in his eyes.
Only blazing battle intent.
"And yet before a true 'monster of talent' like you…"
He lifted his gaze through the smoke, locking onto Big Mom's towering silhouette.
"It still amounts to nothing."
This—
This was why he had left behind the mountain of tedious paperwork.
Six months of strategy, planning, internal consolidation—his body, accustomed to deciding battlefields with will and strength, had nearly rusted.
On this sea, there were few opponents left who could let him truly stretch his limbs in an even clash of power.
Only these so-called "Emperors."
Shanks would never fight him outright.
And Wano lay far, sealed behind its isolation.
But Big Mom—
With an invitation in hand—
Was the perfect choice to loosen his muscles.
And besides—
Stepping into the "King-tier" realm did not mean one could casually crush an "Emperor-tier" opponent.
It was more like a guarantee in a fight to the death.
If neither side retreated, if the battle continued until one lay dead—
A King-tier combatant held the greater odds of victory and execution.
But in a conventional clash, every Emperor standing at the summit possessed the capital to confront a King-tier head-on.
To fight.
To decide supremacy.
Gern rolled his neck slowly. A series of sharp cracks echoed from his bones.
The smile on his face grew wider.
"Looks like…"
He stepped forward through the settling dust.
"The warm-up's over."