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What an absolute farce.
"Sengoku, Fleet Admiral of the Marines… this king already warned you. There is no way you can withstand that man's assault." The voice was mocking, echoing across the battlefield with effortless confidence.
Sengoku turned sharply, his stern eyes narrowing at the richly dressed figure who stood with arrogant composure.
"In my judgment, not just Marineford, but even Mariejois itself may soon need to relocate." The stranger's words were half-jest, half-provocation, but they struck like daggers.
"After all, that man is none other than---" The young man's gaze hardened, a trace of dread flickering in the depths of his eyes. "A King."
Sengoku faltered. A shadow passed across his face. The word carried weight far beyond a throne or crown.
"What do you mean by… King?"
"Tell me, Fleet Admiral Sengoku, don't you find it peculiar? This man, Ying Zheng… no matter how deeply you dig, you cannot uncover his origin, nor his past. No records. No traces. Nothing."
The man smiled, dangerously calm.
"That much is true," Sengoku admitted coldly. "But so what?"
His instincts screamed at him: This man is no ally. The ambition radiating from those eyes was every bit as dangerous as Ying Zheng himself. The only reason Sengoku had not yet ordered his immediate execution… was because this being knew too much, and claimed to hold the truth behind the chaos.
"That is because Ying Zheng… is not of this world at all."
The stranger's lips curled into a sneer.
"…Not of this world?"
A tremor shook Sengoku's heart. His eyes widened, his grip on the situation slipping like water through his fingers.
"Beyond this plane lies countless other realms, endless and unnumbered. Some vast, some fragile, some no larger than a village pond. Where I come from, we call them Minor Worlds, Dimensions… or the All Heavens. Each unique. Each a fragment in the infinite."
He spread his arms, voice carrying a grandeur that seemed to stretch beyond the sky.
"And your world, this so-called great oceanic stage, is but a single grain of sand among them."
Sengoku's face darkened, each word weighing heavier than the last. Slowly, reluctantly, a terrifying possibility began to crystallize within his mind.
"Do you mean… Ying Zheng came from outside this world?"
"Correct."
The young man's smile widened. His eyes shimmered with an unearthly gleam.
"In that vast expanse exists a race of beings known as Kings. Born not merely as rulers, but as sovereigns who stride freely across the Myriad Realms. They harvest essence from countless worlds, using it to strengthen themselves. Their domains evolve, leap, expand, until in the end they can forge a Divine Nation that stretches across cosmos itself."
His gaze shone with amusement, with arrogance.
"Ying Zheng… he is one of them. A King. To think I would stumble into another of my kind upon this backwater stage… how truly entertaining."
Sengoku's stare hardened like drawn steel.
"Then you too… are an Outsider."
"Indeed," the man said without hesitation. His voice thundered with pride.
"I am King Yuanli. I have already devoured three Minor Worlds, weaving them into a dominion spanning Three Realms. And soon, my civilization shall ascend in rank, into the radiance of the Starlight Level itself."
His declaration rang out like a divine proclamation, shaking the very air.
Sengoku fixed his gaze upon the man, every fiber of his being taut and alert.
The shock ran deep. Never, never could he have imagined, that Ying Zheng was a being from another world entirely. Looking back now, every detail confirmed it. The stranger's words carried no falsehood.
Neither Ying Zheng nor Uchiha Madara bore the aura of natives from the Pirate World. They carried something… other, something vast.
"Then tell me," Sengoku spoke at last, voice cutting like steel, "what is your true purpose here?"
King Yuanli's lips curved into a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"To drive wolves to devour tigers, naturally, for my own benefit. I require the strength of this world. I intend… to establish a kingdom here."
Sengoku's stare sharpened further. The silence stretched. Unmoved, the King spread his hands and chuckled softly.
"Of course, this king has aligned myself with the World Government. I won't be like that madman, waging senseless wars wherever he pleases. No… my ambitions are subtler. I merely wish to open a passage between worlds. A bridge of friendly exchange, if you will."
Sengoku's expression twisted ever so slightly, the flicker in his eyes betraying his disgust. Exchange? Nonsense. He did not believe a single word.
"You would have me believe… you stand with us?"
"Indeed," King Yuanli declared without hesitation. "This time, I shall aid the Marines, and deliver a strike so heavy it will cripple that tyrant Ying Zheng!"
The Marine Fleet Admiral gave only a cold, dismissive chuckle in reply.
His face hardened once again as he turned toward the Grand Line's military map. His hand shot out, slamming down at one particular spot as he began issuing crisp and fierce orders.
"Signal the armies. Exception alert. Gather all forces at once!"
"There's no time to marshal at Water Seven, the fleet will regroup in the seas between Water Seven and Enies Lobby."
"No matter what happens… we cannot allow Qin's Nation to advance as far as the Sabaody Archipelago!"
"This time, every ship, every soldier, every ounce of strength must be committed. The fate of the entire world is riding on this battle!"
A beat of silence. Then his voice dropped lower.
"And what of the Shichibukai summons?"
"Other than Empress Hancock," an officer reported solemnly, "all others have answered. They will arrive at Marine Headquarters in sequence tomorrow."
"Good." Sengoku nodded curtly.
But even with everything arranged, his brow did not ease; the shadow on his face deepened instead.
"In my judgment," King Yuanli interjected smoothly, "the Marines alone will struggle to halt Qin's Nation. Request reinforcements from the World Government! If the nations of the world stand united, Qin's armies will be crushed in a single decisive strike. Perhaps then peace will once more descend upon the seas."
His words rang with earnestness.
But Sengoku sneered silently in reply.
If I could rely on them… would I be standing here, alone in this burden?
He remembered all too bitterly, the audience with the Five Elders. He had approached them for aid, laid bare the escalating threat. Their dismissal still rang in his ears: the Marines were enough. Their faintly mocking tone had shredded his composure, accusing him of incompetence. That day, in his private chambers, three porcelain cups had been reduced to dust in his fist.
"Those old fools underestimate Qin's Nation. But I do not," Sengoku thought grimly.
At last, after a heavy silence, he turned back toward the lofty figure of King Yuanli.
"You claim you can help us. Tell me, what exactly can you offer the Marines?"
King Yuanli straightened, a strange light gleaming in his eyes. His presence alone seemed to expand, filling the room with oppressive majesty.
"My very existence here," he proclaimed with regal calm, "is already your greatest support."
Sengoku let out a sharp snort of derision, shaking his head as he turned away without another word.
Another loudmouth.
Apart from that initial display of transformation, shockworthy though it had been, under Sengoku's scrutinizing gaze, this so-called King Yuanli was little more than a pretender. His actual strength was laughable, unworthy even of pirates with bounties in the two-to-three-hundred million range.
The only reason Sengoku tolerated his presence was because of the knowledge he carried in his mouth.
Knowledge that had shaken the Fleet Admiral to his core.
"Other worlds beyond this one…" Sengoku muttered to himself. Even now, the words sounded absurd, more fantasy than reality. And yet… from what he had seen, from the power wielded by men like Ying Zheng and Uchiha Madara, it could no longer be denied.
Astonishing. Terrifying. And yet… a deep part of him could not suppress a dangerous yearning.
What kind of realms exist beyond this one? What kind of warriors walk those paths?
It was curiosity, yes… but also instinct. The instinct of a warrior who had spent his life seeking higher ground.
Time pressed forward without mercy.
The morning passed, and soon the great halls of Marineford transformed into a chamber of steel resolve.
By noon, the atmosphere was suffocating. Soldiers and officers alike stood in formation, rows upon rows in full dress uniform. Vice Admirals lined the path with stony faces, their presence alone enough to crush weaker men.
All eyes turned toward the massive gates that overlooked the harbor.
The sound of great timbers creaking echoed through Marineford as a colossal ship slid slowly into port.
"They're here!"
A ripple of tension ran through the assembled ranks. Spines straightened. Hands flexed against weapon hilts. The air grew brittle with suppressed killing intent.
Then, with deliberate arrogance, a figure appeared on the gangway.
"Shichibukai… Donquixote Doflamingo."
The pirate descended with lazy steps, his body clad in an ostentatious pink coat, sunglasses masking the gleam in his eyes. Every inch of him radiated derision and untouchable pride.
The Marines' hearts grew heavier still.
(End of Chapter)