There were ships that flew merchant flags. Then, at a whim, they hoisted the Jolly Roger and became pirates.
The true rulers of the world were the Celestial Dragons and the nobles. In Madison's heart, the only way up was to join them and become one of them.
He also knew their nature all too well. Worms in silk. Gilded on the outside, rotten on the inside.
Seizing Shasta Island would not be enough.
"Tell King Shounda Lucas I want a count's title in the Illusia Kingdom," he said. "And remember, it must be in writing. Royals and nobles treat their words like wind. Only a signed pact ties their hands."
"Understood, Governor. I will relay your terms," his contact replied.
"Governor!"
A lookout shrieked from the mast. "Bearing three o'clock to starboard, ten nautical miles, a fleet in sight!"
"Hm?" Madison strode out. "What colors?"
To keep the raid secret, they had taken a route far from the main lanes. There should have been no traffic.
The lookout peered through the glass, focused, and sucked in a breath. On the foremast of the lead ship, two characters flashed in painted broad strokes: Eight Treasures. In the center, the character for Flower. The prow was carved as a tiger's jaws, three cannons mounted above. They were junk-rigged ocean fuchuan, a style unique to the Flower Kingdom.
Five ships total.
"The Eight Treasures Navy," the lookout yelled. "It is the Flower Kingdom's patrol!"
"What?" Madison's face hardened.
What he most feared had come.
He vaulted to the top and snatched the spyglass, studying their line. "Wake everyone. Battle stations."
On the flagship of the Eight Treasures Navy, Chinjao sat before the mainmast on a throne, bald head gleaming, presence heavy as stone.
"Beards," he growled. "That's the Kraken Tongue flag."
"So the western coast scum have slipped in after all."
Any pirate crew that ruled a sea for long had backers among the local nobility. Kraken Tongue's infamy endured because everyone knew who shielded them.
Madison thought himself secretive, but fate had other plans. The Eight Treasures' scouts had spotted suspicious ships near Bosa's outer islands. They had traced a web of contacts between Bosa and the Kraken Tongue. Something was moving.
Chinjao took his fleet to patrol. He had found them at last.
"Signal a warning. Order them to leave these waters at once. Otherwise, we strike."
"Yes, Pillar."
"Governor," a signalman called, "they're flagging us. A warning."
Madison's eyes narrowed. The Eight Treasures' power was famed across the West Blue. In normal times he would rather avoid a brawl that left both sides bleeding.
But now was different. If he wanted to come ashore as a lord, this was the gate he had to break. Win and there would be women and carriages. Lose and he belonged to the gutter.
"Ask yourself," he murmured, "if we crush the Eight Treasures, would the Flower Kingdom have spare ships to chase us?"
He had heard that to resist pirate incursions, the Flower Kingdom had turned inward. Its army on land was iron, but at sea it was weaker.
"Load the guns. Prepare to fight."
Kraken Tongue did not budge. Not only that. They dared to stand and answer.
"Pass it down," Chinjao said, voice like a drum. "Prepare for sea battle. Let the western coast parasites drown here forever. All hands, to arms."
…
"Sea battle?"
Inside the devil carrier, Jin glanced up as Ai pinged an alert. Since swallowing Germa 66, Ai had been integrating their technologies into the ship. For example, the Germa electrical systems. With that much power, building a simple radar was not hard. More than that, the radar could act as an amplifier, flinging Observation Haki farther.
Like Enel on Skypiea, whose heart-net spanned the island thanks in part to his fruit. The man himself was a walking radio.
Jin stepped onto the island tower. Faint thunder rolled. Cannon.
He set his hand on the console and poured his Observation into the radar's circuits. The waveforms shifted. Haki wound itself around the pulses and rode them outward, faster, farther, sharper.
Then the guns truly spoke.
Both sides roared at once. Recoil kicked ships sideways as the first salvos hammered the sea.
After three volleys the lines drew close. Grapnels flew. Men with blades in their teeth swung over the gap. The strong vaulted the space in a single bound, twenty or thirty meters at a time.
"Eight Rush Rite!"
All across the line, match met match.
Madison spotted that bald white-bearded head and bounded into the air, blade flashing in a crescent of force.
"You aim for me?" Chinjao stood, a hulking figure over five meters tall. Though his back was hunched, his arms were thick as pillars and his gaze like a cudgel.
"Kraken Blade!"
A shriek like tearing silk as Madison's slash carved the wind.
"Eight Impact Fist, Wutou!"
Chinjao soared and drove his skull down like a falling boulder. His aura raged. His white beard streamed in the wind. He looked like a wrathful god.
Madison's steps skidded backward. He reset his stance.
A crash. The headbutt split the deck, boards bursting into splinters.
The Eight Impact Fist was the Eight Treasures Navy's secret art, akin to Fish-Man Karate. Chinjao specialized in iron head techniques.
"Eight Impact Fist, Wutou Reversal Rondo!"
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A drumbeat of skull strikes. Madison dodged, parried, still took one heavy blow and went flying.
He hit, rolled, and rose transmogrified. His body stretched and thickened, limbs warping. He stood again as a monster. A giant silhouette with a fearsome maw. Tentacles whipped like living ropes and curled around his sword.
Zoan, Fish-Fish Fruit, Mythical Model: Kraken.
Purple-black Armament coiled up his blade like grease on fire.
"Kraken, Wild Slash!"
Tendrils gripped the weapon. The sword whirled in a frenzy. Shockwaves burst forth in scarlet arcs like suns, washing toward Chinjao.
"Eight Impact Secret Art. Pointless Dragon. Pointless Spike."
The sea thundered. Light flared. The two forces collided and the bright morning dimmed as if a cloud had crossed the sun. Waves boiled outward from the center in mad ranks.
Jin watched the images stream into his mind's eye. The flash in his gaze sharpened. Too much power on both sides. The impacts shattered outward from the hulls like a ring of hammers. Ships pressed downward. Water heaved away, a vast bowl gouged in the sea. Wind ripped at the walls of the pit. For a few seconds the ocean seemed to fall away, then it slammed back with a crash.
The battle lasted three hours.
Though the Kraken Tongue had more ships and men, their coordination lagged behind the Eight Treasures Navy. Madison's Zoan and Armament let him stand toe to toe for a time. But when Chinjao unleashed Conqueror's Haki, the tide flipped in a heartbeat. Men dropped like wheat under hail.
An hour later, Madison's lines broke. Retreat turned to rout. Defeat hardened into disaster.
He seized a fast ship and ran.
Jin saw it and immediately gave chase. The devil carrier leapt forward, speed spiking. Twenty nautical miles out, it cut across Madison's bow and barred the way.
"Who are you? Move," Madison snarled, face smeared with blood.
"Running?" Jin's voice was mild. "Stay."
He sprang and struck once, a descending palm that split the air. One blow. The wounded governor's kraken form twisted under the impact and smashed flat.
"Damn you, he was mine," came a hoarse bellow.
Chinjao had been pursuing. He saw Madison fall and launched himself with a roar. "Pointless Dragon. Pointless Spike."
His whole weight and will gathered into his skull as he soared, then plunged like a falling star. The blackened dome of his head shone with compressed shockwaves.
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