Icy snow sifted down from the gloom over Felsek Island, settling like white willow catkins on the stone-stiff faces of the Gorosei.
The world held its breath.
Not even birds cried.
Facing the Marine brat's sardonic smile, their pallor deepened. Even monstrous, towering in their transformed bodies, they could not hide the fury—and the fear—burning in their eyes.
He actually dared.
He actually dared.
How could he dare?
To send the Shichibukai "Blood Dragon" Fisher Tiger into the Celestial Dragons' Holy Land, Mary Geoise—to set fires, turn the city on its head, and free those lowborn slaves?
Not in their worst nightmares had they imagined anyone trespassing upon the Holy Land.
It was the greatest humiliation the World Government had tasted in centuries.
Ordinarily, a single order would have erased a mere Fisher Tiger. But this time was different. Marine Headquarters' dependable fighting strength had been dragged to the North Blue—and the five supreme authorities of the World Government had descended on this frozen rock themselves.
That damned Marine had tied up their entire war machine in the North Blue with his own two hands—
The thought chilled them.
Worse, even together, they could not bring Darren to heel quickly. The man was too strange. He had yet to reach the apex of this sea's monsters—far from Rocks, the "King of the World," whose mere presence rattled islands. But for sheer obstinacy, Darren eclipsed even Rocks in his prime.
A near-impenetrable body. Strength beyond Giants. Speed and reflexes that defied belief. In martial arts, in Haki, in Devil Fruit—no soft spot to strike.
His very existence mocked their authority.
Purupuru…
Den Den Mushi trilled across their massive frames. Bones cracked and shifted as they snapped down into hybrid forms—five-to-six-meter beast-men—and took the calls.
The snails' eyes lit. Projections formed, throwing up a vision of Hell.
Crimson devoured the screen. Firestorms swallowed the darkening sky. The city had become a sea of flame. Through the blaze, countless enraged slaves rampaged, cutting down the Holy Land Guard—those swollen, incompetent soldiers—who broke and ran, dropping armor and guns.
The Gorosei's brows drew tight.
Had it rotted this far?
Reports said at least a third of Mary Geoise's commercial districts had fallen. For now, the Land of the Gods, the Celestial Dragons' quarter, still held under heavy guard.
Saint Warcury drew a slow breath, shot a cold glance at the Marine Vice Admiral—now back in human form and gasping—and spoke into the military line:
"Fisher Tiger. Cease at once… We will still grant you leniency. Otherwise, do you truly think you can lead those fools out of the Holy Land alive?"
Fisher Tiger's voice came back level, unmoved.
"Your Excellencies, I do not consider my actions a sin—and I require no one's forgiveness."
"On the contrary, it is tyrants like you—who enslave lives and freedom—who need forgiveness. Power itself is the greatest crime."
"As for whether I can carry my fellow fish-men from your sinful city—that is none of your concern."
"Light and flame will show our way forward."
The certainty in his tone stunned them a beat. They had not imagined the long-diminished fish-men could birth such a man.
Saint Saturn laughed, low and cold. "Stop now, and we give you a swift death—and spare the rest. Otherwise, what is your escape worth? Do you believe Fish-Man Island can withstand the World Government's wrath?"
"You needn't threaten me," Fisher Tiger replied. "I chose this path without regret."
"As for Fish-Man Island, I place my faith in Darren-san."
"Today, I have no wish to bathe the Holy Land in blood. I have one purpose—to free the suffering slaves. Nothing more."
The line went dead.
"Damn you!!" Saint Saturn roared, teeth grinding. His eyes burned crimson as he turned on the Marine Vice Admiral, whose aura had clearly dimmed. "Little Brat Darren—are you declaring war on the World Government?!"
Darren steadied his breath, wiped the blood from his face, and smiled, cold and thin. "I trust Your Excellencies, with your famed wisdom and foresight, grasp the implications without me spelling them out."
"You didn't think I'd let you drive me this far without striking back, did you?"
They stiffened together.
Of course they had planned for retaliation—and believed they had prepared enough. From the Marine elites cordoning the island, to taking Darren's wife as leverage, to their own descent upon the North Blue—the layers should have crushed any resistance.
They had not accounted for this: beyond Darren's unnerving might, the brat had been quietly arranging other pieces.
"…Laughable."
A haughty scoff cut the air.
Saint Warcury shook his head, voice heavy with the confidence of a man who thought he held the board. "Darren, do you imagine Fisher Tiger alone can throw us into confusion?"
"As I told you—you do not understand the World Government's eight centuries of reserves."
As he spoke, figures stepped into the Visual Den Den Mushi's frame—the live feed from Mary Geoise. Tall and elegant, they wore pale, high-collared World Noble suits beneath hooded dark cloaks that fell to the ankle; light badges marked their sleeves with the World Government's cross.
One red-haired face was only too familiar to Darren:
Figarland Garling.
"This ridiculous farce will end within minutes…" Saint Warcury chuckled, triumph gleaming on his features. "…under the judgment of the Knights of God."
To be continued...