Chapter 85 – Palace Infiltration Begins
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The city of Cleaica was no longer the gilded jewel it pretended to be. The streets, once pristine and orderly, now bore the scars of a battle that seemed almost mythic to the citizens who had watched from windows and alleyways. Smoke curled from overturned carts, scorch marks streaked the marble of merchant shops, and the cries of frightened families wove a low, constant hum through the air. Yet, amidst the chaos, a strange calm seemed to emanate from the Silverhair Pirates as they regrouped on a shadowed rooftop overlooking the palace.
Arthur stood at the edge, silver hair brushing against the sunlight like strands of steel. His eyes scanned the city, noting the positions of remaining Marines, CP9 agents, and the Celestial Dragon's looming platform, which had been repositioned to a grand balcony outside the royal palace. The world had shifted beneath their feet, but now they needed precision, not chaos.
"This is it," Arthur said, voice calm, commanding, yet carrying the weight of strategy. "We split into two teams. Team A : me, Leo, Hiroshi, and Alex. We will head straight for the palace. Our priority: free Leo's family, gather intelligence, and if possible we will also neutralize the king. Team B—Surv, Lisa, Rio, Rus, Clover stay in the streets, protect civilians, and intercept any CP9 agents or reinforcements."
Lisa crossed her arms, dagger in hand, her eyes sharp and calculating. "You're really leaving the civilians and CP9 in the same streets with just us?" she asked, a note of incredulity in her tone. "I don't like those odds."
Surv leaned back on her heels, arms crossed, a faint smirk teasing her lips despite the tension. "Relax, Lisa. We've faced worse than a few guys in black suits before breakfast. Let the kids play with their logic puzzles while we handle the fun part."
Clover, adjusting his glasses, murmured, almost to himself, "Fun, yes… if logic includes predicting moves faster than the eye can follow, and decoding threats before they manifest." His gaze swept the streets below, noting civilians' positions, barricades, and weak points in Marine formation.
Rio, perched on a nearby ledge, smirked. "I'll cover the streets from above. Sniper lines are clean. If anyone moves where they shouldn't, they're dead before they blink."
Arthur nodded at each crew member, acknowledging their readiness. Then his gaze fell on Leo, whose knuckles were white around the handle of his battle-axe. The young man's face was pale, lips pressed into a thin line, but there was fire in his eyes a fire fueled by rage, desperation, and the lingering echo of his father's final words from fifteen years ago.
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Fifteen years ago…
The memory struck Leo sharply. He was ten, standing beside his father in a dimly lit room of their modest Cleaica home. The young boy had been practicing scales on a battered violin, though in truth, he was only half-listening. His father, a stern man with broad shoulders and a gentle yet commanding presence, had his hands on the boy's shoulders, guiding him.
"Leo," his father had said, voice firm but warm, "music isn't just notes on a page. It's the story of the world, the cries of those who cannot speak. You understand?"
Leo had nodded eagerly, eyes wide. "Yes, Father! But what if people… what if people don't listen?"
His father had smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from Leo's forehead. "Then you play louder. Stronger. With courage. And if necessary… you fight for them. One day, the world will try to break you, Leo. Don't let it. Remember this."
Weeks later, the king's soldiers came. Leo had hidden behind the stairs as his father was dragged away, condemned and executed for defying the Celestial Dragon's tribute. He had never heard his father's voice again, only the echo of his last lesson resonating in his heart. Fifteen years of grief, fear, and silent fury had been bottled inside him. And now—he would unleash it.
He shook himself, focusing on the present. Arthur's calm silver gaze met his, and in that instant, Leo's fear and doubt solidified into resolve.
"I'm ready," Leo said quietly, voice firm, gripping his axe tighter. "I won't fail this time. Not my family, not the city, not… anything."
Arthur's lips curved slightly, just enough to acknowledge his determination. "Then let's move."
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The city streets below seemed quiet compared to the chaos of minutes ago. The citizens, fearful but curious, pressed against walls and hidden alcoves, watching the pirates prepare for their next move. From a distance, the palace loomed—a towering fortress of marble and gold, windows glittering, banners flapping in the wind. It was heavily guarded, but Arthur had already analyzed the patterns: guard rotations, blind spots, and the patrols' predictable lapses.
The first team moved like shadows. Arthur led the way, cloaked in the dark folds of his coat, sword Sriyo sheathed but humming faintly with the anticipation of battle. Leo followed, axe slung low, ready to swing with lethal precision. Hiroshi, his twin swords gleaming faintly in the light, moved with silent grace, his muscles coiled like springs. Alex, ever observant, scanned the corridors and rooftops, noting every surveillance point.
They slipped through alleys and over walls, scaling a side tower with ropes and grappling hooks. The first guards they encountered were dispatched swiftly—silently. Leo's axe swung with deadly rhythm, knocking unconscious soldiers without a sound, while Hiroshi's twin blades danced in a blur, each strike precise, leaving no one aware they had been in danger until it was too late.
Arthur's heart was steady. Timing, perception, control. His Future Sight Haki allowed him to anticipate guards' moves before they even turned their heads. One officer drew a sword, but Arthur had already stepped aside, his sword cutting the officer's hilt in two. Another guard tried to flee, but a flick of Leo's axe sent him sprawling. The palace's labyrinthine corridors became a stage for their silent symphony of liberation.
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Meanwhile, Team B in the streets faced their own challenges. Surv moved like a storm, lightning crackling along her fingertips as she intercepted CP9 agents attempting to kidnap terrified children. "You thought you'd get them?" she hissed, static sparking as she sent a Marine flying across a market stall. "Try again."
Lisa darted between shadows, daggers flashing, taking down enemies with swift precision. Her mind calculated trajectories, angles, and the positions of civilians all at once. "Step aside," she muttered under her breath to a mother shielding her child, then swung to disarm an approaching assassin.
Rio, from a rooftop perch, adjusted his sniper rifle, eyes narrowed. Bullets were dispatched with calm precision, each one disabling a CP9 operative before they could harm anyone. "Try moving, and you're dead," he muttered, smirking. Below, the civilians gasped, some taking tentative steps toward freedom.
Clover's intellect guided them like a beacon. He intercepted enemy communication signals, predicted patrol paths, and directed the crew with sharp commands. "Surv, left flank. Lisa, cover alley two. Rio, roof guard south—there's a blind spot behind the fountain." Each instruction was executed without hesitation, their coordination reflecting countless hours of teamwork and training.
Rus moved quietly, blending into the shadows, his massive frame belying the stealth of his movements. When he struck, it was like a falling boulder: unstoppable, leaving enemies incapacitated with minimal effort.
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Inside the palace, Team A reached the dungeons. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of decay and fear. Leo's hands shook slightly as he heard faint cries—his mother and younger siblings, held captive behind iron bars. His father's memory surged through him, fueling his anger, his resolve.
"Leo," Arthur whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Focus. Calm, precise. Not reckless."
Leo inhaled sharply, nodding. He approached the bars. "Mother… siblings…" His voice trembled, but the resolve hardened his grip on the axe. With Arthur's nod, he swung a controlled strike, shattering the locks without harming the cages or his family. They rushed into his arms, tears flowing freely, mixing with sweat and grime.
Hiroshi and Alex covered the hallway, blades and eyes ready for any intrusion. Guards appeared at the corridor entrance, but Arthur moved forward, Conqueror's Haki radiating like a silent storm. One step, one glance, and the nearest soldier froze, mind buckling under the invisible pressure of a pirate king's will.
The rest were neutralized with swift, silent strikes. Leo's mother clutched his arm. "You… you came for us."
"I promised my father I would," Leo replied, voice steady. "I won't let anyone suffer like we did."
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From the streets, Surv's crackling static lit the night sky. Lightning arcs danced across the plaza, frying CP9 operatives as they attempted to regroup. Lisa's daggers glimmered in the electric light, slicing through enemy ranks. Rio's shots found every target attempting to move civilians into danger. Clover's intellect guided them with near-perfect timing, each move a step in the larger dance of liberation.
Arthur's team ascended to the palace's upper levels. The throne room lay ahead, doors heavy, guarded—but they were already primed. Leo, for the first time, allowed his rage to blend with his technique. The axe hummed with latent power, enhanced by small vials—the mysterious pills Clover had given him, designed to temporarily enhance strength and reflexes. He felt the surge, controlled, precise.
"This… this is it," Leo muttered under his breath.
Arthur's gaze was icy. "Stay focused. No distractions. Our goal is liberation, not spectacle."
The palace trembled as the battle in the streets spilled upward. Citizens dared to peek from windows, catching glimpses of lightning-clad Surv and dagger-wielding Lisa. The morale of the oppressed began to swell, hope igniting in hearts that had known only fear.
And above it all, Arthur's silver hair caught the sunlight. He held Sriyo at his side, eyes scanning, calculating. The storm is coming. And this time, we decide when it strikes.
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