Under the moonlight.
The Marine warship was advancing at full speed towards the direction of Flevance.
If things had followed their original trajectory.
Two hours later, after multiple failed attempts to contact the White Town via Den Den Mushi, an impatient self would have grabbed Shumi and left first.
But if he were to set off now, alone, without any "burdens" that could affect his speed.
Then—
"Absolutely in time!"
Nao inhaled deeply and moved at once. He found Momonga, who was dozing in the meeting room, woke him, gave a few brief instructions, and returned to the bow.
Zzzzt!
Thunderous wings suddenly appeared behind him. In the next instant, Nao's figure vanished from the deck and became a streak of pale-blue lightning, screaming off into the distance!
———
4:00 a.m.
White City — the national border.
Outside the surrounding barbed wire lay a relatively open plain.
Countless figures were approaching in the darkness, their advance completely unconcealed. If one were to press their ear to the ground, they could clearly feel the entire earth trembling slightly.
On the mountain peak.
In the newly pitched central encampment — or temporary royal palace — the king of the strongest of the five neighboring nations, Clay XVI of the Arca Kingdom, stood with his hands behind his back under the moonlight, admiring the massive army marching at full speed below.
For this joint operation, the five nations had committed a total of three hundred thousand troops; the Arca Kingdom alone had sent one hundred thousand soldiers.
All the vanguard units had been equipped with biohazard suits and flame-throwers, purchased at great expense from Germa 66.
Their purpose was simple: to exterminate every citizen of White City as quickly as possible and, before dawn, seize control of the entire territory of Flevance.
"Your Majesty! Your Majesty—let me through! I must see you!"
A commotion suddenly rose behind him. Clay XVI frowned and turned.
A gaunt old man was struggling to force his way through, but a ring of guards had him tightly blocked.
"That old man again?"
Clay XVI waved, signaling the guards to step aside.
The thin old man broke free and staggered to the camp gate, gasping and sweating.
"Oh? Prime Minister?"
Clay XVI sized him up with a forced smile. "If I remember correctly, you were supposed to remain in the capital. Now you've come out here — what is it this time? Will you lecture me on humanitarianism and try to stop this operation?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The old prime minister flinched under his gaze but bit his lip and spoke: "Sire, I know the old arguments won't sway you. But this time it's different — the men I sent to investigate yesterday have finally returned with accurate intelligence."
"Previously, we set up barbed wire and strict defenses because we feared the creatures in White City — and that if they were released, our Arca Kingdom might face catastrophic disaster."
"But, Your Majesty — actually, this Amber Lead disease is not contagious."
The old prime minister trembled as he pulled a dossier from his robe. "I have absolutely reliable evidence. The people of Flevance are innocent; we must not do this…"
"Please, Your Majesty — after you read this document, you will understand. I beg you to contact the other four monarchs and withdraw the forces at once…"
He looked up at the monarch he had served since childhood, eyes full of hope and desperate pleading.
However—
Under the moonlight, King Clay XVI made no move to take the document from the old man's hands. Instead, he regarded him with that same half-smiling, half-mocking look.
"Prime Minister…"
The young, handsome monarch smoothed his beard and spoke in a slow, casual tone:
"You don't actually think you're the only one who's heard those rumors about the real truth of the Amber Lead disease… do you?"
Boom!
The words struck like a thunderclap in the old prime minister's mind.
"Y–Your Majesty… you…"
The old man stared at him in disbelief. "If you already knew—then why…"
"There's a saying in the capital," Clay XVI interrupted coldly. "Once the bow is drawn, the arrow cannot turn back."
With a sneer, he went on:
"If we'd learned the truth a month ago, perhaps it would've mattered. But now? Look at Flevance — it's already a ruin. Who still cares whether their disease is contagious or not?"
"Save them? Do you think I deployed such a vast army and spent such a fortune on this campaign just to play the saint?"
"No, those lead-platinum mines… once we seize the mining rights, the Arca Kingdom's treasury will be five times fuller within ten years."
"Besides," he continued with a thin smile, "destroying White City is something the World Government is more than happy to see. A Flevance with no living souls — that's the best Flevance. I'm simply doing what pleases our superiors. If anyone's to blame, it certainly isn't me."
Clay XVI's mocking voice rang out in the cold air:
"So… which side will you choose? Do I really need to teach you, Prime Minister? You're too old to still be so naïve — it does our kingdom no good."
"..."
The old prime minister stared at him, blank and hollow, as a deep sorrow and powerlessness flooded every part of his frail body. His right hand trembled violently, and the carefully gathered documents slipped from his grasp to the ground.
In that instant, he felt as though he no longer recognized the ruler before him.
"Guards — the Prime Minister is exhausted. Take him to rest. Send him back to the capital first thing tomorrow morning."
Clay XVI's smile faded. He waved a hand and gave the order coldly.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
Two guards seized the old man and dragged him from the royal tent. He did not resist — perhaps because his heart was already broken beyond pain. His eyes closed, his face full of sorrow.
"It's about time."
Clay XVI didn't spare him another glance. Raising his head to the moon, a cold glint flickered in his eyes as he gave the final command:
"Pass the order — all troops, begin the assault!"
On the moonlit hillside came a thunderous roar in reply:
"YES, YOUR MAJESTY!"
———
Flevance, the Royal Capital
Ever since they noticed over an hour ago that the number of neighboring countries' troops outside the border had suddenly surged, an atmosphere of fear and unease had spread throughout the city.
Countless citizens who had already fallen asleep were awakened by panicked family members, hurriedly packing their belongings and hiding in various basements, wine cellars…
Meanwhile, the soldiers, already emaciated and worn down by the disease, gritted their teeth, picked up their weapons, and headed to the front lines.
They knew full well that with Flevance's current strength, even one of the five invading nations would be too much for them — let alone all five united.
But still…
Behind them lay their homeland.
Behind them lay their families.
They were already doomed by illness — their lives forfeit. Better to die fighting bravely than to rot away slowly in despair.
———
City Center, Church Bell Tower
It was the tallest structure in the city. From the top of the tower, one could overlook the entire royal capital — even glimpse the barbed wire glinting along the distant border.
"Be careful."
Dr. Trafalgar supported his wife as they reached the top of the bell tower. Due to a whole night of exhausting work, her face was pale and bloodless, and her body seemed as thin as a sheet of paper, as if a strong wind could blow her over.
"Maybe… you should rest down below," Trafalgar said softly, worry etched across his face. "What's about to happen is too dangerous. Let me handle it alone."
"It's all right," his wife replied, gently shaking her head with a faint smile. "Law and Lami have already made it out of the city safely. There's nothing left for us to worry about now… right?"
Dr. Trafalgar let out a quiet, helpless laugh. "You're right."
He tightened his grip on her hand, feeling the warmth of her palm against his — warmth that seemed to melt away the chill of the night air surrounding them.
They turned together and walked to the northern edge of the bell tower's rooftop.
There stood an old, slightly battered giant loudspeaker — once used by the church each Sunday to call the townspeople to mass.
Now, it had become the final "weapon" of two doctors who had run out of everything else.
Suddenly—
The ground beneath them began to tremble violently. In the distance, the barbed wire fences surrounding the borders of Flevance were being torn down and flattened with thunderous crashes.
By the pale moonlight, they could see countless dark figures flooding across the fallen fences, surging into Flevance territory.
"They're here," Dr. Trafalgar muttered, his eyes narrowing.
Watching the five allied nations' armies pour across the border, he knew this was the last, desperate chance to stop a war that would annihilate their country.
The odds were hopeless — but they had to try.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In the distance, scattered gunfire broke through the silence of the night, each flash of a muzzle like a fleeting firefly — the sick, dying soldiers of Flevance fighting to their last breath.
Dr. Trafalgar drew in a deep breath, gripped the edges of the loudspeaker, and, with every ounce of strength left in his body, roared into the night:
"STOP! PLEASE STOP! SOLDIERS OF THE NEIGHBORING NATIONS!!"
"I AM DR. TRAFALGAR ANSTER — FROM FLEVANCE'S FIRST PUBLIC HOSPITAL!! I SWEAR UPON MY HONOR AND MY LIFE — THE AMBER LEAD DISEASE IS NOT CONTAGIOUS!!!"
"The people of Flevance are innocent! They are not monsters of the White City — they're just ordinary human beings, just like you!!"
His wife, voice hoarse and trembling, shouted beside him:
"Please — give us a chance! We can prove everything to you!!!"
———
Outside the border.
Under the moonlight, King Clay XVI's handsome face darkened, his expression turning cold.
"What are you waiting for?" he said flatly.
He turned his head coldly and gave the order:
"Spouting nonsense and spreading lies. Inform the vanguard troops to destroy that bell tower immediately!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
———
In the vast darkness of the night—
After shouting with all her strength, the female doctor's body gave out. She collapsed weakly against the wall, her breathing ragged.
The cold wind howled past. The night was eerily silent, and even the sounds of battle in the distance seemed to fade.
Did… did it work?
She wasn't sure. Pushing herself up unsteadily, she moved around the loudspeaker to look toward the horizon—only for her expression to change drastically.
"No, get down!"
Dr. Trafalgar reacted, urgently leaping up and tackling his wife to the ground. At the same moment, a deafening roar filled their ears.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Stones shattered. Dust and smoke filled the air.
"Cough… cough…"
Both doctors coughed violently. When they struggled to their feet and looked back, the top of the bell tower was riddled with craters, and the giant loudspeaker they had used was now nothing but twisted wreckage.
"H-how could this be…"
The female doctor covered her mouth, tears spilling down her face. Beside her, Dr. Trafalgar's expression turned pale and grim.
From afar, the sounds of shouting and gunfire rose again.
Another volley of shells whistled through the darkness, racing toward the tower.
"So… it really didn't work after all…"
Dr. Trafalgar held his wife close, his voice hoarse and trembling.
As the black shells grew larger and larger in their sight, neither of them tried to move. They simply held each other, waiting quietly for death to come.
Despair?
Not really. Their hearts had long gone numb after endless days and nights of struggle. What they felt now was a strange, peaceful release.
Law… your mother and I might be breaking our promise.
Please… take Lami and live well.
But then—
Zzzzt!
A brilliant azure flash of lightning suddenly erupted before their eyes.
The shells hurtling toward the church tower were instantly swallowed by the storm of light—disintegrating into fine black dust that drifted down through the moonlight.
Huh?
The female doctor, who had already closed her eyes, froze in shock, staring blankly at the sight before her.
W-What… what's happening?
"Look—there!"
Her husband's voice came in a trembling whisper, full of disbelief and hope. She turned her head instinctively—
—and saw a tall figure descending gracefully from the night sky, landing upon the stone roof of the bell tower.
A white cloak, emblazoned with the symbol of Justice, rippled fiercely in the cold wind.
Under the pale moonlight, as she made out the familiar contours of that face, the female doctor trembled and covered her mouth in disbelief.
"V–Vice Admiral… Nao?!"
Was she dreaming?
A surreal sense of unreality washed over her as she stared, afraid that the man before her would vanish like a mirage at any moment.
Hearing her voice, the man finally turned—revealing the handsome, resolute face she had seen so many times on newspaper pages, clung to as a symbol of hope through endless dark days.
"You've both done enough," said Nao softly, his expression calm but his voice steady.
"From here on, leave the rest to me."