"Attack! Do not stop!"
"They're two of Rocks' main crew — and a newly minted apprentice!"
"Although this kid has no bounty yet, Kaido, who's also an apprentice, already carries hundreds of millions in reward!"
Elite vice-admirals raised sword and blade and surged forward. Most of them had built their skills from Rokushiki-style training, pushing the human body past its limits, then tempering that with dual-tone Haki and blade work. Zephyr's methods later formalized this as the backbone for the next generation of Marines. Some of these vice-admirals were Devil Fruit users — usually Beast types — whose terrifying regenerative speed only made them fiercer opponents.
If five or more Marine vice-admirals concentrate, the order becomes a slaughter directive. That was the net closing around Sharn and John: one drunk, one nearly mad. No number of reinforcements would intimidate them. Suppressive fire and coordinated attacks meant little to two fighters whose reason had already slipped.
Sharn dodged blades and bullets; sometimes he caught a blade by hand. The assaults grew faster and more brutal, several elite vice-admirals coordinating, while flag officers led waves of marines. The battlefield spiraled into chaos. Over time, the tide subtly shifted: more Marines kept arriving while pirate reinforcements thinned. The world's naval powers were simply deeper and more numerous — even without counting the forces of the Red Line.
"Don't be afraid of them!" someone shouted. "Rocks' crew are all Devil Fruit users — but we have Seastone! Keep firing! Every human has a limit!" The gunfire and slashes never ceased. The God Valley grew bloodier than the later Summit War ever would.
John, exhausted, snored against Sharn's back. "Not the time to nap, John!" Sharn barked, then smashed an attacker aside. Rational thought slipped further from them both; in the haze, voices multiplied. Sharn moved by instinct — dodge, counter — like a stranded fish that waits for the tide to turn.
John shuffled drunkenly, spilling his empty bottle. Glaring at the towering Dragon-form warrior in front of him, he declared in all seriousness: "Rocks is a gambler. He bets everything. Treasure, wine… if he wins, he takes it all. I prefer parties and treasure-hunts to slaying. But Rocks said — if we win the gamble, we can take every treasure on Earth. Drink every wine from every sea! Do you think we'll win?" He hiccupped, and the drunk fog from his breath spread in a rush.
Sharn — tuned to the cacophony of minds — synchronized with John's drunken rhythm. Black-Dragon and Azure-Dragon bloodlines shared the same genetic root. Drunken state granted offensive boost; mimicking John's moves, Sharn picked up tactics almost by accident.
Marines fell back, dizzy from the drunken mist. An elite two-sword vice-admiral pulled people to safety. "Retreat! John's fruit creates a drunken fog that knocks people out!" Yet before they could flee far, the fog combusted in superheated flame. The beach went up in fire.
John belched, partly sobered. "Newbie — Sharn. Rocks is making his final, reckless bet." He led Sharn through the blaze, kicked open an oak crate, and gulped red wine like it was medicine. Sharn breathed hard; the white vapor at his lips was cell activity fighting to rebuild. Inside his body, sensation sharpened: a success would forge a monster; failure would leave a steaming skeleton.
As the stimulant's effect edged toward collapse, greater pain would flood in. John and Sharn found themselves assailed again by elite vice-admirals — only to be intercepted by the Black-Carbon siblings (the barrier duo). Their shield repelled sword slashes and Haki strikes; but they lingered at the valley's rim, opportunistic and uncommitted: if Rocks lost, they'd scatter; if Rocks won, they'd claim they'd held the line.
John droned on while they walked: Hachinosu was a pirate Disneyland — everything traded, even crew. "Then Rocks came — a born lucky gambler. He won again and again, but offered more: join him and place the ultimate wager. The winner would rule the world. You were the last to board. Now the bet reaches its climax — Rocks tried to pry fate itself." John gestured at the shattered valley: statues of stone, tattered cliffs. "The other pan of the scale is the whole world."
Sharn stepped into the God Valley' heart — the site where the final act of the God-Valley battle would be decided.
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