Chapter 17: The Black Prince
The reclamation of Whale Belly and Whale Head islands did not take long.
The main force of the Amento fleet and the pirate crews dispatched by Umit had already fallen upon the stones of Whale Tail Port. The meager remnants left behind to guard the northern islands were no match for the edge of Elus's blade. With overwhelming power, he crushed all resistance like dry autumn leaves, bringing the entirety of the Toothed Whale Sea back into the fold of the Echemondo Kingdom.
Then, the Elus fleet continued its northward push. However, they did not cross the border into Amento's sovereign waters.
When news of the annihilation at Whale Tail reached the Amento mainland, Nebli IV's brothers and sons immediately fell into a bloody internal struggle for the throne. The kingdom was now a chaotic mess, its former facade of strength stripped away to reveal a core of pathetic incompetence.
Under these circumstances, Elus abandoned the idea of ransoming Nebli IV. It wasn't that there were no buyers; it was that no one could afford the price. Nebli's brothers and sons were all offering future tax revenues as collateral—hollow promises backed by zero sincerity. If Elus actually sold him back, he'd likely end up losing money on the investment.
There was no profit in such a losing trade.
Thus, on a night thick with wind and high clouds, Nebli IV "hanged himself" in his cabin.
Elus shifted his gaze away from the hollow shell of Amento and toward the true prize. Compared to a fractured kingdom that couldn't rub two pennies together, Umit, the Shipping King, was a literal mountain of gold—a money tree that bore fruit year-round.
"Ariye Shipping Company." "Jewel Sea Liner Transport." "Sky Country Commercial Shipping." "Dalama Kingdom Shipping."
Name after name was recited. Each one represented a hegemon of the shipping industry in specific sectors of the New World. On the surface, they were independent corporate entities; in reality, their strings were all pulled by the Chairman of the Blackwater Society: Umit.
This was intelligence Elus had paid a king's ransom to acquire.
The Echemondo Kingdom's internal network wasn't enough to dig up Umit's corporate secrets, but the kingdom had one distinct advantage: immense wealth. After throwing billions of Berries at the problem, the information that was "not for sale" eventually found its way into Elus's hands.
"Which one is closest to our current position?" Elus asked, seated behind his desk.
"The Dalama Kingdom Shipping Company," Dillen answered from the sofa, his tone as precise as a ledger. "They hold a monopoly on all shipping in the Beryl Sea. At the fleet's current speed, we can reach them in approximately three days."
"The Beryl Sea... the source of the emerald trade, isn't it?" Elus tapped a finger against the desk. "That's the one."
Elus located the Dalama Kingdom on his nautical chart and drew a sharp red circle around it. "Do we have the detailed dossier on Dalama Shipping?"
His gaze swept across the faces of his four adjutants. Ultimately, it returned to the most reliable among them: Dillen.
"Dalama Shipping is nominally owned by the Dalama Royal Family. In truth, Umit is the absolute master. The royals merely have a right to dividends; they possess no actual control over operations. The information brokers provided this much, but little else."
"However," Dillen continued, "I do have some intelligence on the Dalama Kingdom itself. Your Highness, would you like to...?"
"If you know it, tell it. I'd rather not spend more time squinting at files," Elus said, lifting his cup for a sip of hot coffee-milk. The rich, mellow flavor brightened his mood.
"Dalama is considered a powerhouse in the New World," Dillen said, setting aside his well-worn documents. "Because of their emerald production, the nation is incredibly wealthy. However, those gems only become Berries once they have a channel to the outside market. Unlike us, Dalama never established an independent transport system."
The complexity of the New World went beyond erratic magnetic fields and lethal seas. It was a gargantuan whirlpool of friction: Marines against pirates, pirates against pirates, Kingdoms against Marines, and Kingdoms against each other.
No one could remain a bystander here. Everyone was forced to struggle within the vortex.
Even the Four Emperors were currently locked in a stalemate. Had it not been for their mutual rivalry, the Marines might have been driven out of the New World entirely, rather than clinging to a few desperate branches like G-1. Powers on the level of Echemondo or Dalama required a perfect blend of wisdom, martial might, and sheer luck to keep their heads above water.
Echemondo's luck had been exceptional. The previous kings had been wise enough to wrap themselves in the mantle of the World Government. Over generations, they had leveraged Marine influence to build their own shipping lanes. They didn't have to worry about anyone cutting their throat at the docks. Even now, with the Marines retreating under the Yonko's pressure, Echemondo's coffee trade remained largely untouched because the "Paradise" half of the Grand Line and the Four Seas were still under Government control.
However, not every nation was so fortunate.
Dalama was the perfect example. Because Umit had annexed every shipping interest in their surrounding waters, the kingdom had been squeezed until they had no choice but to join Umit's logistics empire, becoming a tiny cog in his massive machine.
"...In summary, Dalama and Umit are likely partners in name only. If Umit's grip on the shipping lanes weren't so absolute, Dalama would have broken ties years ago. Of course, that doesn't mean they want someone else to simply take Umit's place. They would likely prefer to see Umit fall and the shipping industry return to a state of disorganized chaos. Only then would they have a chance to break their predicament."
Dillen finished his briefing.
Beside him, Caspar had long since fallen asleep, a thread of drool escaping the corner of his mouth. Across from them, Dick was scratching his head so restlessly he was practically pulling his hair out from boredom. Eschbach was listening intently, though it was clear his interest was purely a matter of duty.
As for Fran, she remained indifferent to anything that didn't involve Elus's personal well-being.
The four adjutants had displayed distinct personalities since childhood. The kingdom's elite tutors hadn't tried to force them into a mold; they had practiced "teaching according to talent," educating them in their specific interests alongside their martial training.
Dillen, for instance, with his obsession with rules, was a shoe-in for the future Minister of Justice, or perhaps Internal Affairs given his grasp of finance. He was the premiere talent among the four.
"Dalama... Dalama Shipping... I couldn't care less what they think," Elus said, his eyes fixed on the chart. "Our goal is to kill Umit and take his place. Whoever refuses to submit will be beaten until they do. Umit is getting old. It's time someone else sat in his chair."
Elus leaned forward.
"Since the balance between the Yonko, the Warlords, and the Marines solidified, the New World has been too quiet. Nothing... soul-stirring has happened in a long time. The Emperors, the Warlords, the Underworld giants—they've squeezed the top level so tight there's no room for anyone else to breathe. It's quite irritating."
"Caspar! You idiot, wake up! If your drool ruins my sofa, I'm throwing you into the sea to bait sharks," Elus barked, slamming his hand on the desk.
Caspar let out a long yawn and straightened his back with visible effort. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at Elus through half-closed, drowsy eyes. "Your Highness... what do you need now?"
His voice was so drained of energy it made Elus feel sleepy just listening to it.
"Caspar, you... tsk! You're unbelievable." Elus rubbed his temples. "Dalama Kingdom Shipping. You are in charge of its suppression. I don't care how you do it; I want the Beryl Sea out of Umit's control."
"Huh? Sounds so troublesome..." Caspar moaned.
Elus ignored the lazy youth. "Eschbach. Jewel Sea Liner Transport. Go crush them." He looked at the largest adjutant as he issued the order.
"Dick. Sky Country Commercial Shipping. You can handle that, right?"
"Your Highness, leave it to me! I guarantee the mission's success!" Unlike the sluggish Caspar, Dick was practically vibration with excitement at the new task.
"Eschbach," Elus said, turning his gaze back to the giant. "Ariye Shipping... that is also on your list. Do not be too soft-hearted. This is the New World, a paradise for villains. Do not let your kindness go to waste."
These four companies were only a fraction of Umit's Blackwater Society. Taking them out wouldn't cripple him—the Shipping King wasn't that easily dethroned—but it was a signal.
An opening salvo.
Releasing Venculla had been the formal declaration. These actions would be the first strike. He intended to dismantle Umit's empire in the most direct, overwhelming manner possible, then step over the ruins to claim it.
"The Black Prince? Ugh, who came up with this? Can't they have a little more taste?"
As the adjutants retreated to prepare, Elus picked up the day's newspaper. After a few seconds of skimming, he found a report on himself.
The battle at Whale Tail had been picked up quickly by the New World's observers. Strictly speaking, a border skirmish wasn't massive news, but the casualty count was. Even in the New World, it was rare to see over ten thousand deaths in a single engagement. Pirate wars were usually measured in hundreds or thousands.
Even the Whitebeard Pirates, excluding their subsidiary fleets, only numbered around sixteen hundred members across sixteen divisions.
The scale of this battle was an anomaly. In a world where individual martial power could shatter warships with bare hands, such high casualties usually meant one thing: a Tyrant had appeared.
"It took this long to get a moniker? I suppose my presence was truly too thin in the past," Elus mused.
He read the short text several times. It described his "brutal" feat of annihilating twenty thousand enemies and labeled him the Black Prince. It was hollow, sensationalist dripple meant for tavern gossip, but Elus didn't mind.
"Well... it will do for now. Every journey begins with a single step."
Elus shook the newspaper out and began reading from the front page.