Chapter 51: Interception by the Giant Navy
Over the next few days, Roy and Amatsuki Toki roamed the Flower Kingdom at dawn and dusk, taking in the sights. Most hours, though, Roy kept them on a steady rhythm of training. He wanted Toki to build real self-defense, at least enough that future enemies couldn't seize her as a hostage. Toki didn't want to be a burden either, so even if her progress was gradual, she persisted without complaint.
Nights brought a different regimen. Young soldiers of the Happo Navy often came seeking sparring rounds with Roy. Under his steady beatdowns, Roy felt an odd thing happening: Chinjao's cone seemed to get harder by the day.
The Flower Kingdom's streets and stacked pavilions stirred a memory. People said its prototype came from a place called Shiba. After days of wandering its attics, bridges, and towers, Roy had to admit the resemblance was uncanny.
A few mornings later, at the port, the giants' ship rocked at anchor. Not far off, a Happo Navy vessel rode the tide. The young Chinjao stood beside his father, the Eleventh Don, waving at Roy, Toki, and the towering giants, reluctance flickering in his eyes.
Roy had been right. Happiness never lasts long. Chinjao's days had been full: strict lessons, body training, drills in Hasshoken with his father by day; at night, more sparring with Roy. The kid could talk too. No matter how one-sided the result, Roy's easy praise always lit Chinjao back up for another round. With a worthy opponent to crash against and real pressure to push him, Chinjao could feel himself growing sharper. He touched his cone now and swore it truly was harder than before.
What he could not grasp was why Roy had to leave. The mountains and rivers here were beautiful. Was crossing blades with the Happo Navy not enough fun?
"Roy, where are you headed next? I'll come find you," Chinjao called, voice tight with urgency.
"I'll take one more lap around West Blue," Roy said, waving, "then I'm moving on."
"Where do I find you after that?" Chinjao blurted, fear creeping in that he'd lose the best opponent he'd ever met.
"The New World. Elbaf."
"Fine. I'll find you there on my own strength." Chinjao clenched a fist, hot blood rising.
"I'll be waiting," Roy said. He looked at the teen with complicated eyes. Who knew when their paths would cross again.
The Eleventh Don watched too, gaze equally complicated. Was he the one who could not keep up with the times, or had the giants truly changed? A human child as a giant's disciple. Absurd. And yet his son had made a friend of him through honest blows, and that bond mattered.
The giants' ship eased away from the quay, Roy and Chinjao still trading waves as the lines went taut and the hull slipped out. Just then, two Marine warships cut fast across the swells from opposite bearings, boxing the bay. On one of them, a giant in a navy coat stood with a massive sword at his hip, eyes locked on the giants' vessel.
John Giant.
Once a child from Elbaf sent to the Marines by the nun and raised under their flag, he was still young, a Headquarters captain for now, but already formidable.
"You're all giants," said the scarred vice admiral at his side, voice low. "You talk to them. If anyone can open a door, it's you."
John inclined his head, then lifted his gaze to the ship across the water.
From the other angle, the commander of West Blue's 122nd Branch watched with a knot in his gut. Headquarters wanted Roy recruited, but the giants were volatile, dangerous, and famously proud.
"Senior Redding, may I come aboard to speak?" John cupped a hand to call across the gap, his voice carrying cleanly.
"Oh? If you've got something to say, say it from there," Redding called back, smiling.
Giant or not, Redding kept his distance. He was a pirate, and John, though a junior, had been a Marine for years. Caution was only sensible.
On shore, Chinjao seized his father's sleeve and pointed. "Father, the damn Marines have ringed Roy's ship. Let's take the Happo Navy out there and smash them."
The Eleventh Don nodded, rounding up a crew and hustling to their ship. He paused at the gangway and jerked his chin toward town. "Go call the Niho Navy. Tell them the Marines are attacking us."
"Got it," Chinjao said, thrilled, and sprinted for home. Happo and Niho together could surely drive the Navy off.
The Eleventh Don's pirate sloop nosed out, drawing eyes from both Marines and giants. Unlike his son, the Don was steady. He gave Redding a brief nod, then took a place abeam the giants, squaring his ship's stance so their hulls formed a loose line.
John Giant exhaled through his nose. He had barely begun speaking to Redding, had not even gotten to the matter of Roy, and already the water bristled with interruptions. If talks failed, there had been contingency whispers about seizing the child.
Too late for that now. Happo blades and a giant pirate crew together were nothing to trifle with, not even for two warships.
John shot Eleventh Don a flinty glance, tamping down his frustration. Then he looked back at Redding. "Senior, I heard there's a very talented child from the Sheep's House named Harold Roy."
"That's right," Redding said, eyes narrowed in a cheerful squint. "And?"
"I heard he stopped Charlotte Linlin from destroying the village." John did not push for custody. He shifted tack, choosing gratitude. "On behalf of those of us who serve under Elbaf's banner in the Marines, I'd like to thank him."
He kept it simple. He was still Elbaf-born. He wanted to honor a little hero who had saved their home. A stranger could not just ask a pirate crew to hand over a child. The nun's way had been to adopt any homeless child she found, without care for race or origin. Elbaf honored that kindness; the village treated all her children the same. John knew this. He had been one of the young ones sent to the Marines by those hands.
"John Giant," he said more formally, stepping to the rail and raising a hand in greeting. "Headquarters Captain. It's an honor to meet you, little hero."
Roy met his gaze, chin tipped up. "Harold Roy. Pleased to meet you, sir."
The Eleventh Don narrowed his eyes, cutting his look across the Marine line. If they had come to fight, why all this politeness?
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