Icy snow sifted down from the gloom over Felsek Island, settling like white willow catkins on the stone-stiff faces of the Gorosei.
The world held its breath.
Not even birds cried.
Facing the Marine brat’s sardonic smile, their pallor deepened. Even monstrous, towering in their transford bodies, they could not hide the fury—and the fear—burning in their eyes.
He actually dared.
He actually dared.
How could he dare?
To send the Shichibukai "Blood Dragon" Fisher Tiger into the Celestial Dragons’ Holy Land, Mary Geoise—to set fires, turn the city on its head, and free those lowborn slaves?
Not in their worst nightmares had they imagined anyone trespassing upon the Holy Land.
It was the greatest humiliation the World Governnt had tasted in centuries.
Ordinarily, a single order would have erased a re Fisher Tiger. But this ti was different. Marine Headquarters’ dependable fighting strength had been dragged to the North Blue—and the five supre authorities of the World Governnt had descended on this frozen rock themselves.
That damned Marine had tied up their entire war machine in the North Blue with his own two hands—
The thought chilled them.
Worse, even together, they could not bring Darren to heel quickly. The man was too strange. He had yet to reach the apex of this sea’s monsters—far from Rocks, the "King of the World," whose re presence rattled islands. But for sheer obstinacy, Darren eclipsed even Rocks in his pri.
A near-impenetrable body. Strength beyond Giants. Speed and reflexes that defied belief. In martial arts, in Haki, in Devil Fruit—no soft spot to strike.
His very existence mocked their authority.
Purupuru...
Den Den Mushi trilled across their massive fras. Bones cracked and shifted as they snapped down into hybrid forms—five-to-six-ter beast-n—and took the calls.
The snails’ eyes lit. Projections ford, throwing up a vision of Hell.
Crimson devoured the screen. Firestorms swallowed the darkening sky. The city had beco a sea of fla. Through the blaze, countless enraged slaves rampaged, cutting down the Holy Land Guard—those swollen, incompetent soldiers—who broke and ran, dropping armor and guns.
The Gorosei’s brows drew tight.
Had it rotted this far?
Reports said at least a third of Mary Geoise’s comrcial districts had fallen. For now, the Land of the Gods, the Celestial Dragons’ quarter, still held under heavy guard.
Saint Warcury drew a slow breath, shot a cold glance at the Marine Vice Admiral—now back in human form and gasping—and spoke into the military line:
"Fisher Tiger. Cease at once... We will still grant you leniency. Otherwise, do you truly think you can lead those fools out of the Holy Land alive?"
Fisher Tiger’s voice ca back level, unmoved.
"Your Excellencies, I do not consider my actions a sin—and I require no one’s forgiveness."
"On the contrary, it is tyrants like you—who enslave lives and freedom—who need forgiveness. Power itself is the greatest cri."
"As for whether I can carry my fellow fish-n from your sinful city—that is none of your concern."
"Light and fla will show our way forward."
The certainty in his tone stunned them a beat. They had not imagined the long-diminished fish-n could birth such a man.
Saint Saturn laughed, low and cold. "Stop now, and we give you a swift death—and spare the rest. Otherwise, what is your escape worth? Do you believe Fish-Man Island can withstand the World Governnt’s wrath?"
"You needn’t threaten ," Fisher Tiger replied. "I chose this path without regret."
"As for Fish-Man Island, I place my faith in Darren-san."
"Today, I have no wish to bathe the Holy Land in blood. I have one purpose—to free the suffering slaves. Nothing more."
The line went dead.
"Damn you!!" Saint Saturn roared, teeth grinding. His eyes burned crimson as he turned on the Marine Vice Admiral, whose aura had clearly dimd. "Little Brat Darren—are you declaring war on the World Governnt?!"
Darren steadied his breath, wiped the blood from his face, and smiled, cold and thin. "I trust Your Excellencies, with your fad wisdom and foresight, grasp the implications without spelling them out."
"You didn’t think I’d let you drive this far without striking back, did you?"
They stiffened together.
Of course they had planned for retaliation—and believed they had prepared enough. From the Marine elites cordoning the island, to taking Darren’s wife as leverage, to their own descent upon the North Blue—the layers should have crushed any resistance.
They had not accounted for this: beyond Darren’s unnerving might, the brat had been quietly arranging other pieces.
"...Laughable."
A haughty scoff cut the air.
Saint Warcury shook his head, voice heavy with the confidence of a man who thought he held the board. "Darren, do you imagine Fisher Tiger alone can throw us into confusion?"
"As I told you—you do not understand the World Governnt’s eight centuries of reserves."
As he spoke, figures stepped into the Visual Den Den Mushi’s fra—the live feed from Mary Geoise. Tall and elegant, they wore pale, high-collared World Noble suits beneath hooded dark cloaks that fell to the ankle; light badges marked their sleeves with the World Governnt’s cross.
One red-haired face was only too familiar to Darren:
Figarland Garling.
"This ridiculous farce will end within minutes..." Saint Warcury chuckled, triumph gleaming on his features. "...under the judgnt of the Knights of God."
To be continued...
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