Category: Review

You knew this moment was coming. The second Luffy laid eyes on Loki in chains, you felt the weight of inevitability. But even with all the foreshadowing, nothing prepares you for what happens next. Luffy, the man who defies fate, has just played straight into its hands.

By freeing Loki, Luffy may have set into motion the destruction of Elbaph—if not the entire world. His instincts told him to act, but instincts don’t consider consequences. Loki rises, and with him, a storm unlike any Elbaph has ever seen. His hammer, Ragnar, crackles with power, and suddenly, the legend of the Sun God Nika takes on a far darker meaning.

Meanwhile, chaos stirs across the battlefield. Frankie and Ripley stumble upon the remnants of the Atom Tree, its severed branch tied to a lost civilization. Could this be the very wood that birthed the Thousand Sunny? The thought lingers, poetic yet ominous, as Ripley offhandedly remarks that Elbaph’s greatest weakness is fire and lightning—two elements that Loki himself may command. If that’s true, then the very heart of Elbaph could be at risk of burning.

Elsewhere, Usopp’s drunken antics provide an unsettling contrast. You rarely see him this reckless, this unguarded. In his euphoria, he jokes about pulling the sword from Yarl’s head—a gag that’s becoming too deliberate to ignore. Oda doesn’t fixate on things without reason, and you can’t shake the feeling that this blade holds a deeper significance. The laughter fades when Usopp’s sentiment sinks in—he’s standing among his childhood heroes, finally feeling worthy. And yet, in the shadow of Ragnarok, dreams may shatter just as easily as they come true.

But all of that is background noise compared to Loki.

Zoro, ever the pragmatist, sizes him up and confirms what you’ve long suspected—Loki isn’t just any giant. He rivals the size of Oars, a figure so powerful it once required the entire Straw Hat crew to defeat. But unlike Oars, Loki is no mindless puppet. His presence alone exudes menace, and as he reaches for his hammer, you feel it—a seismic shift in the balance of power. The tension in that final panel is suffocating.

This isn’t just another fight. This is a declaration of war between gods.

Luffy’s decision has set the stage for something unprecedented. Was it the right call? It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is that the chains are broken, and Ragnarok has begun.

You step into Elbaph at the worst possible moment. The once-mighty land of warriors is no longer a symbol of honor and tradition—it’s a battlefield where gods, myths, and nightmares come alive. From the first page, chaos reigns. The great Jörmungandr launches an assault on the children of the war school, and suddenly, everything you thought was stable crumbles.

The Holy Knights, once a questionable force, now display a terrifying level of coordination. They aren’t just strong; they are methodical, using their abilities in devastating synergy. The name of the game is destruction, and they play it well.

Saul, a fan-favorite giant, steps up, channeling the brute force of a true warrior. His haki-infused punches bring a nostalgic wave, reminding you of legends past. A subtle but fascinating connection emerges—Saul might have trained under Garp, hinted at in the flashback featuring Vice Admirals responding to the Ed War.

Then, there’s Principal Keba. Towering, imposing, wielding a hammer that could reshape landscapes, his presence is a stark reminder of Elbaph’s brutal history. But his origins are shrouded in mystery—pure giant, Fishman hybrid, or something else entirely?

But all of that—every clash, every punch—is merely a prelude to the true horror that unfolds.

The ability to manifest fears into reality is one of the most disturbing powers introduced in One Piece, and its execution here is masterful. The children’s nightmares take physical form, bringing forth colossal figures straight from Norse mythology. Fenrir, Nidavellir, and, most chillingly, a monstrous version of Nika—bearded and twisted into a vision of terror—loom over the battlefield. The fear in the children’s hearts fuels these apparitions, making them as powerful as their imaginations allow.

And then, Loki steps in. Not as a mere prince but as a god of calamity. His weapon, Ragnar, crackles with a level of destruction that rivals ancient weapons. His ambitions are clear—he is not content with ruling. He seeks divinity. He seeks chaos. His thunderous assault on Elbaph is an ultimatum, a test of will against Luffy himself.

But perhaps the most sinister twist of all? There is a second Loki. A nightmare-made doppelgänger, sword in hand, mirroring the giant prince’s worst attributes. Elbaph, a land of warriors, is on the brink of war against itself—past vs. present, myth vs. reality, fear vs. belief.

What you witness in this chapter isn’t just an escalation—it’s a descent into the abyss. The worst-case scenario? It’s already here. And it’s only getting worse.