The once grand and immaculate royal hall now lay in utter disarray.
Silverware had been swept from the banquet tables, the gold inlays along the surrounding walls crudely torn out. Gilded ornaments had been stripped and stuffed into sacks, stacked carelessly by the foot of the walls.
Slouched across the throne like a grotesque parody of royalty, Nuke lounged with one hand gripping a goblet of wine, the other draped possessively around a disheveled noblewoman. His expression radiated indulgent satisfaction. At his feet lay the lifeless body of Nicola McCartney, his face frozen in agony.
The woman in Nuke's arms trembled, her face pale with fear. She struggled to keep her gaze from drifting to Nicola's corpse, but each time she turned her head, her eyes involuntarily flicked toward it. Tears welled in her eyes. It took everything in her not to let them fall.
Below the throne, on either side, the crew of the Nuke Pirates roared with laughter, raising their mugs in drunken celebration. A few of them, overwhelmed by the revelry, began dancing wildly in the center of the hall. The serving girls, visibly shaken, moved with trembling hands as they poured wine for the pirates. One young maid, overwhelmed by terror and pressure, finally broke down in tears.
The cheer was abruptly shattered by the sound of sobbing.
Nuke's grin vanished in an instant. His expression darkened as he set down his goblet and turned his eyes sharply toward the crying maid.
She froze, eyes wide with horror, too terrified even to beg for mercy.
A glob of muddy sludge shot from Nuke's hand, splattering across her face.
A foul stench of rot and filth filled her nostrils. She twitched for a moment, then collapsed to the ground, motionless.
For a brief moment, silence fell over the hall.
Then the pirates exchanged glances and burst into laughter.
No one cared that someone had just died before their eyes. They returned to drinking, to dancing. One of the pirates, his expression unreadable, pulled a maid into his lap and whispered coldly into her ear, "If you want to live, you better behave."
The grand hall, once a solemn seat of royal power, had become a pirate's playground.
"Drink up, boys! Eat and be merry!"
"When our bellies are full, we'll go burn that Marine outpost to the ground!"
"This is the New World, we pirates rule here! Since when do Marines get to meddle in our territory?!"
"We, the Nuke Pirates, are the new rulers of the Kingdom of Neil! I am the king!"
"Ahahahahahaha!"
Nuke threw his head back and howled with laughter. Draining his goblet in one go, he slammed it down on the table before him and growled with excitement:
"More wine!"
As the woman beside him scrambled to pour another drink, Nuke's bloodshot eyes dropped to her pale chest. He licked his lips, eyes gleaming, and suddenly seized her wrist, intending to drag her off.
But then...
"Huh? Why did it suddenly get so cold?"
A pirate lounging near the main entrance suddenly shivered, rubbing his arms. He started to rise to fetch a cloak, but before he could move, a sheen of frost crept across the floor, slithering silently into the hall.
Looking up in alarm, they saw them, two strangers who had appeared without a sound.
The first was a tall, lean man, his expression frosted with calm fury. A round hat shaded his face, and a pair of round-lensed sunglasses hid his eyes. His hands rested in the pockets of a Marine-issued cloak, and with every breath he exhaled, a faint mist curled in the air.
One of his legs had already turned to solid ice, and the floor beneath his feet was glazed with a thin, creeping layer of frost.
Beside him stood a red-haired youth, handsome and composed, a long blade in hand. Crimson markings traced from his brow to the corner of his eyes. His gaze, cool and unreadable, was fixed on the man sitting atop the throne.
Nuke.
"You... who the hell are you?!"
Nuke had just risen from the throne, still gripping the woman's wrist, when he spotted the two newcomers. He narrowed his eyes.
Then he saw the Marine insignia on the tall man's chest, and again on his hat.
"Marines?!"
A pause.
Then he laughed.
"Hahahahaha! So fast? What? Did that little bitch who ran off manage to call for help after all?"
"I was just about to go looking for you and you come to me instead?"
"What's this? Only two of you? Where's the rest of your squad? Come on out! I'll take you all on at once! Hahahahaha!"
He recognized them. Recognized they were from the Navy.
But instead of being afraid, he erupted in wild, taunting laughter.
How many Marines of this level had he already crushed underfoot?
"Truly… arrogant beyond reason."
Kuzan raised his head and glared at the laughing Nuke, his chest burning with fury. His voice turned hoarse with restrained rage.
The two who had just stormed into the great hall were none other than Kuzan and Yoriichi Tsugikuni. From the moment they breached the defenses of the Mud Fortress and entered the royal palace, they had both sensed the pirates gathered in the hall.
Kuzan's Observation Haki was keen. He had already detected the massacre that had taken place inside the palace, never mind the countless bodies of royal guards strewn across the front courtyard.
Yoriichi, stepping over corpse after corpse, arrived at the throne room with calm dead like eyes, yet in his heart, he had already pronounced the pirate on the throne guilty of death.
A chilling aura began to emanate from Kuzan's body. Just as he was about to make a move, Yoriichi suddenly stepped in front of him, raising his long blade toward Nuke on the throne. In a low, almost gentle voice, he said:
"Kuzan, your power is far too merciful for someone like him."
"Let me handle this."
On the throne, Nuke stared in disbelief as the red-haired boy dared point a blade at him. After a brief pause, he suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, as if he had just witnessed the joke of the century.
"Hahahahaha!"
"A brat like you thinks you can lay a hand on me?!"
"Go ahead! Come at me!"
"I'm the great Nuke! user of the Muddy-Mud Fruit. Swords? Guns? Worthless! None of them can hurt me."
"Hahaha! Come on then! Try cutting me!"
Suddenly...
Crack!
A thunderclap split the air.
No one knew when, but Yoriichi had vanished from in front of Kuzan. In the blink of an eye, he was right before Nuke, his long blade already descending.
In mid-sentence, Nuke felt a strange shift in his perspective. His vision soared high, then abruptly dropped. In that surreal moment, he saw the cold, expressionless face of Yoriichi Tsugikuni standing before him and was struck with a chilling realization:
When did he get here?!
His gaze drifted downward. He saw his crew staring up at him, faces frozen in horror. Then he saw his own body.
Is that... my body? Why am I looking at my own body?
Panic gripped him. He tried to speak, but his mouth produced no sound. Even his thoughts, his very consciousness, began to fade like mist.
Terror flooded his heart. And in that final instant, Nuke understood that he was going to die.
Die? No! That's impossible! How could I die?! How could a brat like this!?
Thunder Breathing First Form: Thunderclap and Flash!
(Kaminari no kokyū Ichi no kata: Hekireki Issen!)
Blending the technique of Soru with his swordsmanship, and imbuing his blade with Armament Haki, Yoriichi reached a speed beyond the eye's ability to track. Nuke, despite being a Logia-type Devil Fruit user, had no time to react, his head was severed in a single, blinding stroke.
With a flick of his wrist, Yoriichi shook the blood from his blade and calmly sheathed it.
Thud.
Nuke's headless corpse collapsed at Yoriichi's feet. He lowered his gaze and studied the lifeless body for a moment, murmuring softly to himself:
"Some habits are hard to break… Was that too brutal?"
Yoriichi, long accustomed to decapitating demons, struck without hesitation, ruthless and precise.
"Captain...?"
"Captain Nuke!!!"
"H-he's dead… he's actually dead!!"
Nuke never stood up again. Only now did the rest of the Nuke Pirates realize that this man, their captain, who had consumed a Logia-type Devil Fruit and seemed invulnerable to physical harm, had been killed in a single stroke.
The euphoria from their looting turned to ash in an instant. Staring at the red-haired youth standing silently beside the throne, blade in hand, the pirates felt their will to fight evaporate. Panic-stricken, they stampeded toward the hall's exit, desperate to escape, even one second longer in this place felt like a death sentence.
"Ice Time!"
Just as Nuke's remnants tried to flee, Kuzan finally made his move. Spreading his arms, a blast of glacial wind surged from his body. The frost beneath his feet rapidly spread, transforming into hard ice that swept across the hall like a tidal wave.
Crack...
A chilling gust blew through.
The pirates racing for the doors were instantly frozen mid-stride and turned into lifelike ice sculptures, their faces etched with eternal terror.
BOOM!!!!
"KUZAN! YORIICHI!!"
"Where are you?!"
A thunderous roar erupted from the palace's front courtyard, followed by the unmistakable voice of Garp, shaking the very foundations of the throne room. A sudden whirlwind swept in, carrying with it dust and debris, crashing violently through the palace doors.
The ice statues of the pirates near the entrance shattered into a cloud of frozen powder under the force of the wind.
"…Tch."
Kuzan clicked his tongue and raised an ice wall within the hall, shielding himself and the others from the chaos.
Yoriichi, now standing calmly beside him with his blade sheathed, looked toward the commotion and muttered under his breath:
"With that kind of entrance… the Navy really doesn't suit someone like him."
*********
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