Chapter 155

### Chapter 155

No matter how much Saturn spoke, Garling remained unmoved.

Carl clutched his head, his face twisted in agony.

"Bastard! I won't let you succeed!" he roared.

The darkness within him surged like flames, desperately trying to consume the invading Darian.

But Darian only laughed.

"Struggle all you want! I'm inside you now. No matter how strong your fruit power is, you can't harm me, can you? Hahaha! I didn't expect your body to be capable of holding multiple Devil Fruits! These two top-tier fruits will be mine soon enough!"

Carl gritted his teeth as his body contorted in pain. Darian's voice echoed again.

"This trick won't work. I already told you—we are one now!"

"Then I'll destroy myself!"

With a burst of will, Carl cast himself into the depths of his own darkness, his figure vanishing before Garling and the others.

Carl's power had limits. If he stayed in the dark space too long, he would be lost forever.

He had always made it seem effortless when using his ability, but in truth, it required immense concentration. One wrong step, and he could lose control.

Darian, unaware of this, continued ranting inside Carl's body. But Carl had gone completely silent.

The Blood-Blood Fruit's takeover ability was powerful, and Darian himself was stronger than Carl. If things continued as they were, it was only a matter of time before Darian took full control.

So, the moment Carl entered the dark space, he completely let go of his defenses, relaxed his body, and allowed Darian to invade him.

It didn't matter—because Darian was about to face eternal solitude.

Believing Carl had given up, Darian was ecstatic. He unleashed more power, turning Carl's body entirely blood-red. Carl's consciousness rapidly faded.

In the haziness, Carl murmured,

"So… this is really the end…."

Then, an ancient voice spoke.

"Boy, are you giving up already?"

Both Carl and Darian were stunned. The surrounding darkness began to swirl violently.

From the back of Carl's hand, Muramasa—the demon sword—suddenly emerged and hovered before him.

A ghostly light took shape from within the blade. As the figure fully formed, Carl's eyes widened in shock.

It wasn't just Carl—Darian's mind reeled as well.

In perfect unison, both of them exclaimed,

"Ancestor Saint Casillas?!"

Casillas ignored them. He reached out and grasped Muramasa's hilt, inspecting it with a nostalgic expression.

"Muramasa… it seems you've grown quite fond of your new master…."

The blade trembled slightly, as if responding.

Darian felt an ominous chill creep into his soul. Casillas cast him a calm, unreadable glance, then released Muramasa. The spectral figure dissolved into white light and flowed into Carl's body.

The next second, Carl's form turned completely black, merging with the endless darkness. Casillas' majestic voice rang out.

"Dark Baptism."

The dark space trembled violently—then all fell still.

Carl reemerged, his body altered. Two blood-red tear streaks ran down his face, and his right sleeve had vanished, exposing a scarlet arm.

Casillas' shadow separated from Carl's body, floating before him.

But now, the white light around Casillas flickered weakly, as if he could disappear at any moment.

Carl's vacant eyes slowly regained clarity. Muramasa let out a soft hum and flew back into Carl's grasp.

Casillas chuckled, shaking his head.

"Muramasa… you truly don't care for your former master anymore, do you?"

This time, the blade remained still.

Carl ran his fingers gently along Muramasa's edge, then bowed deeply to Casillas.

"Thank you for saving me, Ancestor."

When Casillas entered his body, he had immediately reclaimed control from Darian. Then, a powerful darkness had surged into Carl, strengthening him.

Yet, despite the overwhelming force, he had wielded it effortlessly—like it had always belonged to him.

In an instant, he had devoured Darian's consciousness, leaving behind only the blood essence his ability had created.

Casillas waved dismissively.

"Don't thank me. Muramasa was the one who saved you. It was his will that awakened what little remained of mine."

He studied Carl's face for a moment before asking,

"As Muramasa's wielder, you are part of the Figarland bloodline. What is your name?"

Carl answered respectfully.

"Figarland Carl."

Casillas nodded.

"You have earned the Dark-Dark Fruit's recognition… that is no small feat. But tell me—who was that man inside you just now?"

Carl's eyes darkened.

"His name is Figarland Darian."

"Nani?!"

Casillas' expression shifted to sheer disbelief.

His spirit had only just awakened, and he knew nothing of recent events. He had instinctively protected his descendant, thinking the invading presence was an enemy.

But now, realizing that Darian was a Figarland as well, he frowned.

"What happened? Has the Figarland family truly fallen to the point of killing each other?"

Carl explained the situation briefly.

Casillas listened, his brows furrowing deeper. Then, he sighed in disappointment.

"All this bloodshed… over that damned Blood-Blood Fruit? Why did they not seek the Dark-Dark Fruit instead?"

Carl hesitated before answering.

"Ancestor… it has been over 800 years since your death. In all that time, no one in the Figarland family has ever obtained the Dark-Dark Fruit. I only came across it by sheer luck."

"…."

Casillas was speechless.

After a moment, he raised his nearly transparent hand and placed it gently on Carl's shoulder.

"No wonder Muramasa was so desperate to wake me. It seems you are a rare find."

Then, his expression hardened.

"As for Darian… let him rot. Muramasa will never acknowledge him."

Carl blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.