Ten minutes later.
The Thunder Hawk had docked along the shore.
A squad of Marines disembarked, beginning to clean up the wreckage of the warship destroyed by lightning. They gathered the corpses of their "fallen comrades" and prepared them for a sea burial.
On the beach, Sister Teresa stood with the children, hands clasped before her chest, silently mourning and praying for the souls of the "departed Marines."
"Why aren't we telling them the truth?"
On the deck, Onigumo puffed on a cigar, glaring at the scene below with open irritation.
"These bastards…" he growled. "If the Vice Admiral hadn't noticed something was off and taken care of them along the way, all those kids would be dead by now. And now look—"
Now those same scum were being buried as heroes, honored as if they had died saving the children?
Being mourned by the very people they meant to harm?
"How ridiculous can this get?"
"We still have to protect the Marine's image," replied Momonga, narrowing his eyes against the sunlight.
"Besides, the oldest of those children can't be more than ten. Their lives have already been filled with enough tragedy. Why show them something so ugly right now?"
"Remember," he said quietly, glancing toward Onigumo,
"Sometimes, the truth doesn't matter.
If it lets these children keep believing in light and justice,
I'm sure even the Vice Admiral would agree with what I've done."
"…You've got a point."
Onigumo nodded reluctantly, though a scowl still lingered on his face. After a pause, he gritted his teeth again.
"No, damn it—this can't just slide. Sure, it's fine to lie to the kids, but what about those scumbags? I'm taking this straight up the chain. We can't let those bastards be honored as heroes inside the Marine, too!"
"You don't need to worry about that," Momonga said with a faint chuckle.
"You won't have to report it—the Vice Admiral would never let something like that happen. Knowing him, before heading back to Headquarters, he'll probably make a stop at the North Blue's First Branch, to trace this mess to the root and see just how deep the rot goes."
"Heh, yeah… that sounds exactly like him."
Thinking of Nao's usual style, Onigumo's irritation melted into excitement. The gloomy feeling that had been sitting in his chest finally vanished.
He was even starting to look forward to it—
With Nao's thunderous methods, some people at the North Blue's First Branch were about to have a very bad day.
After a while, the so-called "sea burial" was finally completed.
Sister Teresa and the children finished their prayers and prepared to board the Thunder Hawk to leave the beach.
But before they could step aboard, Onigumo suddenly raised an arm to block their way.
"Wh–what's wrong, Rear Admiral, sir? Aren't you here to take the children away?"
Sister Teresa froze, confused and a little frightened, but forced herself to ask.
The children behind her turned pale and clung to her habit, hiding in fear.
Do I really look that scary?
Onigumo rubbed his nose awkwardly, shot a glare at the amused Momonga beside him, and then turned back with what he hoped was a kind, reassuring smile.
"No need. The crisis in Flevance has been resolved."
"Eh?"
Sister Teresa blinked in confusion—
until Momonga finally stepped in and briefly explained what had happened earlier in the White City.
"Vice Admiral White Dragon…???"
After hearing what Momonga said, Sister Teresa's eyes widened, and her breathing quickened.
"You mean… you're all subordinates of Mr. White Dragon, and he himself is already in Flevance? He stopped the war?"
"That's right," Momonga replied with a small smile.
"In short, after a face-to-face talk with the Vice Admiral, the five great kingdoms agreed to withdraw their armies an hour ago and return home. We arrived a little late to witness it ourselves—our job now is simply to escort you and the children safely back."
"I see… that's wonderful…"
Sister Teresa pressed her hand over her chest, tears of joy glimmering at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away, then looked back at the children, who were all cheering excitedly, as though struggling to believe their nightmare was truly over. She hesitated, as if something was still troubling her.
"You're worried the children won't be able to walk the whole way, right?"
Momonga stroked his mustache and smiled. "That's a small matter."
He turned around and said in a firm voice, "Shumi, if you would."
"No trouble at all—it's my honor to help," Shumi replied with a grin.
He stepped to the front of the deck and clapped his hands together.
In the next instant—
Before the astonished eyes of the sister and the wide-eyed gasps of the children, countless white paper cranes fluttered out from Shumi's sleeves. They caught the wind and swelled to enormous size, dancing gracefully in the air as they circled around the group…
...
An hour later.
Dozens of paper cranes gently landed on the streets of the White City. After the children got off, they were still chattering about what they had seen and heard during the flight, their faces still flushed with the excitement of their first time flying.
The Marines also marched closely behind them to this location.
Under Momonga's direction, part of the unit escorted the children back to their homes, while the rest began distributing the supplies they'd brought—especially the emergency medicines—to the townspeople.
By now, White City had almost completely returned to order.
If not for the faint traces of bullet holes and scorch marks on the buildings near the border, no one could have imagined that only hours earlier, this had been a besieged land on the brink of annihilation.
Law carried Lami on his back, walking with a young Marine ensign toward the hospital.
As he made his way through the streets, his disbelief only deepened.
Did something so major really happen last night?
Five neighboring kingdoms had invaded with hundreds of thousands of troops, intent on wiping Flevance from the map—
and yet, Vice Admiral Nao had driven them all back alone?
The entire town was intact. Almost no one was even injured.
How… how was that even possible?
It was like a miracle.
He remembered how, just last night, he had stood in the hospital corridor, full of despair and rage, stomping on a photo of that very same "White Dragon" Vice Admiral.
Now, as he looked at the reborn, sunlit White City…
Law's emotions tangled together—shame, awe, confusion.
He was so lost in thought that when he turned a corner, he walked straight into someone without realizing it.
"I'm sorry! I wasn't paying attention—"
Startled, he began to apologize and bow, but a pair of strong, familiar hands caught him gently by the shoulders.
That warmth… he knew it instantly.
The ten-year-old boy froze, staring up in disbelief—
before him stood his mother, silently weeping into his father's shoulder,
and Dr. Trafalgar, smiling warmly down at him.
"Law," he said softly, "welcome home."