Chapter 409: Reclaiming the Devil

The World Government’s world summit, held every four years, gathers the monarchs of fifty member nations to Marijoa.

They convene to jointly deliberate on global security and order.

In short.

The monarchs who have now arrived at the Sky City have, for the most part, never attended a world summit before.

But what they have seen and heard at this summit…

The red soil continent severed by Saint Seven’s single sword, the miraculous phenomena of the Sacred Land Sky City, and the impending public execution of the Five Elders.

Are enough to make them never forget.

A few months ago, the Five Elders were the supreme authorities of the World Government, ruling over these seas.

A few months later, the Five Elders are now toxins of the old era, set to be publicly executed in the Sacred Land Sky City.

The contrast is so great, how could one not sigh.

In the Sky City’s Heavenly Prison.

Seven personally cooked some fish balls—the dish he loved most as a child—to see off the Five Elders.

Seven had no intention to mock them; he simply offered the old rulers their final farewell in the most humble way possible.

“We were comrades. I came to see you off.”

In truth, the Five Elders held a crystal-clear understanding of the sins they bore.

From the moment they were cast into the Heavenly Prison, they knew.

Whether Saint Seven intended to spare them or not, before the overwhelming tide of the new regime sweeping across the seas, their fate as old-era rulers was certain death.

As long as they lived, the Marines could not rest, the Revolutionary Army could not rest, and the defected member nations could not rest either.

Yet they could not help but feel resentment.

The World Government, which had ruled the world for eight hundred years, vanished overnight—and former king Im’s whereabouts remained unknown.

Inside the prison, warm steam rose slowly; bowls of hot fish balls scattered their faint, fragrant aroma through the dark, icy cells.

Each Elder held a bowl, silent.

Having dealt with Seven for years, the Five Elders knew well: as a child, Seven had sold fish balls at a stall in East Blue’s Housha Town.

Why fish balls?

Perhaps because fish was the only ingredient Seven could obtain as a child—the flavor he knew best, fresh, fragrant, chewy, carrying the warmth of human life.

Yet the gentler this humble fragrance, the heavier the shadow beneath the Five Elders’ feet felt.

This was no mercy. No forgiveness.

It was the last breath of humanity before old-era rulers stepped onto the execution ground.

Aroma curled, death within reach.

“Eat while hot. Once cold, the freshness is gone.”

With that, Seven raised his hand and sat in the air; thick, ink-like devil energy surged behind him, and in an instant, a towering black throne solidified at his back.

Seeing this, the Five Elders’ pupils shrank.

“You… are you Saint Seven?”

“Or… are you Lord Im?”

Though Im had never demonstrated such a technique, the Five Elders would never mistake devil energy—it was uniquely Im’s power.

Could it be… could Im have successfully possessed Saint Seven’s body, usurping his place…

Otherwise, why was Im completely silent, while the Five Elders, bound by the Abyssal Pact with Im, remained unharmed?

The more they thought, the more agitated they became.

“What are you thinking?”

Seven toyed with devil energy between his fingers: “Im has been sent seventeen years into the future. Give up that hope.”

He came to the Heavenly Prison before the public execution specifically to reclaim the devil energy from the Five Elders and Garin.

Three months ago.

After forging the Abyssal Pact with Im, Seven’s Devil Fruit—Mythical Zoan: Satan Form—successfully evolved into its advanced form.

Enough to reclaim their devil energy without killing the Five Elders.

“Seventeen years into the future?” Satan understood.

Saint Seven had used the Years Years Fruit’s ability to simulate the Time Time Fruit’s power, sending Im seventeen years ahead.

Truly fate’s doing.

For Saint Seven’s Years Years Fruit had been carefully selected by Satan himself, long ago, from the Sacred Land’s treasure vault—and delivered to Saint Seven by Kizaru…

Facing death, Satan finally let go—perhaps the three months of imprisonment had already prepared him mentally.

Still, before dying, he wanted to take someone down with him.

“Where’s Garin?”

“How does Saint Seven intend to deal with Garin?”

Satan had seen: Garin’s son, Shanks’s older brother, Xia Mu, now stood beside Saint Seven as his guard.

That was why he asked.

As long as Garin lived, the Five Elders could not rest easy.

Why should they all share supreme power, yet only the Five Elders face public execution—simply because Garin’s son Shanks is Saint Seven’s brother?

“Him?” Seven smiled. “He’ll be joining you all.”

Hearing this, the Five Elders exhaled in relief.

Good. With Garin as company, even in hell they wouldn’t be lonely—and they could still bully Garin down there.

The Five Elders felt their minds clear.

Each held a bowl of fish balls, savoring their final taste of human warmth.

Honestly, the fish balls were delicious.

In their entire lives, the Five Elders had never eaten fish balls this good—no wonder Saint Seven could win over Roger with his cooking alone.

Only after the Five Elders finished eating did Seven, seated on the black throne, lift a finger slightly and beckon.

Instantly, the six—including the Five Elders and Garin—felt the devil energy entwined with their souls, granting them immortality, surge uncontrollably.

Not a violent plunder, but absolute dominion over devil energy.

Like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, all streams flowing toward the source.

The devil energy from the Five Elders and Garin was forcibly torn from their souls, becoming streams of black light that surged endlessly into Seven’s body through his beckoning finger.

Though utterly unbelievable,

the Five Elders had no room to struggle, no chance to resist—their old-era authority was now utterly reclaimed by Saint Seven.

Moments later, feeling their bodies weak beyond measure, Satan asked listlessly:

“Saint Seven, if we’ve lost our devil energy, why are we still alive?”

Satan had witnessed firsthand: the previous generation of Five Elders, upon angering Im, turned to bone dust the moment their authority was stripped.

Seven slowly rose from the black throne; the throne of devil energy behind him dissolved silently.

“Naturally… the time has not come.”

Even if the Five Elders must die, they must be drained of every last ounce of value.

Dying in the Heavenly Prison would be too cheap, meaningless.

Better to be publicly executed in a global broadcast, dying under the gaze of all monarchs, before the eyes of the entire world.

Having ruled the World Government for years, the Five Elders understood instantly.

Saint Seven intended to use their public execution—to execute the supreme rulers of the old era—to utterly crush the old order and establish the absolute authority of the new regime.

To squeeze from them their final remaining value.

“No wonder you’re you, Saint Seven.”