"This is the situation—a nation drowning in sorrow. What should I do?"
Bartholomew Kuma stood atop the highest peak in the area, using a special Den Den Mushi to report his findings to his true leader—the Revolutionary Army's commander, Dragon.
There was a long silence on the other end after listening to Kuma's detailed account.
Then, with a voice heavy with resolve, Dragon issued his command.
"Sabo is the closest to your location. I will have him move in first. No matter what, save as many survivors as possible. They must not die in vain. They will become our most loyal comrades. If necessary, you are permitted to speak with complete honesty."
"Understood." Kuma nodded, his expression showing little change. However, deep inside, a current of rage surged against the Marines and the World Government.
The destruction of a million lives, the survivors barely clinging to existence, struggling in the shadows of history—this was a dark era, buried under the rot of power. Just like his homeland, the Sorbet Kingdom.
A kingdom that decayed, withered, and ultimately crumbled into nothingness, vanishing into the dust of history.
"Oh, by the way, I encountered someone here—Nico Robin. She's the one you've been searching for all this time, isn't she?"
Just as he was about to hang up, Kuma suddenly recalled something he had meant to report earlier.
However, with World Government personnel and powerful Marines nearby, maintaining absolute secrecy had been uncertain, so he had delayed it until now.
"Protect her as much as possible. Her knowledge is invaluable—she is indispensable to our cause," Dragon instructed gravely.
"Understood."
—
"Vice Admiral O'Neill, you have truly let us down."
In the Marines' temporary base in Sector E, Eric gazed at Vice Admiral O'Neill with disappointment.
"The truth would have come out eventually. I simply revealed it a little sooner," O'Neill replied, his expression shifting slightly before settling into a calm demeanor.
"That's quite amusing. You've helped us for five years, yet now you think you can simply walk away? Vice Admiral O'Neill, you're far too naïve." Eric shook his head, looking down on O'Neill's wavering resolve.
"I know what I'm doing, and I'm prepared to face the consequences," O'Neill said firmly. It was as if, after years of inner turmoil, he had finally found his true path.
"In your mind, Marine Headquarters still needs your strength, and since you were merely forced to assist the World Nobles, you probably assume the worst they'll do is demote you to a foot soldier, right?"
"But let me disappoint you—at best, you'll spend the rest of your days in Impel Down. As for the worst-case scenario… well." Eric didn't finish his sentence, but both men understood the implication.
As expected, O'Neill's face tensed upon hearing Eric's words. What he had envisioned was exactly that—being stripped of his rank, reduced to a common soldier, perhaps never regaining his former status. That, he could accept.
But to spend the rest of his life imprisoned in Impel Down? That, he could not accept.
"There is, however, a chance for redemption," Eric continued indifferently. "Lord Desmeniere seeks a spectacle. If you can lead your men to restore the majority of Lantis Island's former surveillance points, you may yet escape this fate."
O'Neill's face twisted in shock.
Restoring those surveillance points—on an island now overrun by monsters—would come at an immense cost in Marine lives. Even with his own strength, Eric's assistance, and several Rear Admirals, their current position had already been secured with heavy casualties.
To send his troops into such a suicidal mission merely to entertain the Celestial Dragons?
A deep sorrow welled up within O'Neill.
"Commander Eric, do you understand what this operation will cost?" O'Neill asked, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic weight.
"You mean Marine lives? Or the lives of the natives? Of course, I understand—both." Eric's tone was matter-of-fact.
"All this, just to provide a spectacle for the Celestial Dragons? You call yourself a warrior, yet you don't find this utterly absurd?" O'Neill glared at Eric in fury.
Eric fell silent for a moment.
Then, he lifted his head and looked at O'Neill with an expression of utter incredulity, as if he were gazing at something bizarre.
"Vice Admiral O'Neill, your thinking is truly strange."
"The Celestial Dragons are the rulers of the world, our masters, supreme beings above all. As their servants—as mere humans—is it not our duty to please the gods?"
"You, on the other hand—your rebellious thoughts, your tendency to betray—if you were my subordinate, you would already be on the execution platform. Unbelievable."
O'Neill stared at Eric in shock.
He had seen that look before.
Back when he was just a recruit, during the indoctrination sessions, he had seen this very same fervent, fanatical gaze in the eyes of fresh-faced recruits. Young soldiers, ready to throw their lives away without question.
But Eric was no ordinary soldier. He was a powerful figure, a competent commander capable of maneuvering tens of thousands of Marines with ease—a man with exceptional strategic vision.
Why, then, did he have the same fanaticism as those brainwashed recruits? Should he not be a man of pure logic and reason?
"This is an order I cannot follow. If my fate is Impel Down, then so be it—I will accept the consequences of my actions."
O'Neill's refusal was resolute.
He understood that Eric was not like him.
And that was precisely why, out of all the new recruits back then, he alone had survived.
"What a waste of talent."
Eric sighed, his eyes returning to their usual sharp rationality.
—
Underground City.
"Who let outsiders in? Blade Warriors!"
Alice had been conversing with Lisa when she suddenly sensed a presence. Following the gaze directed at her, she spotted Rosen.
Her expression changed drastically.
The once cold and detached look on her face shifted into a storm of killing intent.
With just two words—Blade Warriors—over a hundred warriors at her back drew their weapons in perfect unison.
Their expressions were emotionless, some even utterly numb—so ruthless that the very air was thick with the scent of blood, fresh and lingering.
Pitas instinctively took a few steps back, shaken by the sheer aura of these warriors.
Rosen, too, grew more serious.
This squad was no ordinary force.
Compared to Lisa's troops, they were far stronger—perhaps several times so.
"Take them down."
Alice gave the order without hesitation.
Lisa had barely opened her mouth to explain when a battle was about to erupt.
"You Lantis people are truly bloodthirsty. No wonder outsiders fear you—you act like beasts, driven by instinct."
Rosen frowned as he watched the approaching warriors, his voice laced with contempt and mockery.
"L-Lord…"
Pitas nearly collapsed from fear.
My lord!
These people are not to be trifled with!
Every single one of them has crawled out of a pile of corpses!
Shouldn't we be speaking calmly and explaining ourselves?
We were allies just moments ago, weren't we?
And this is their territory!
—
(End of Chapter)
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