Smoke still hung over the central plaza, carrying the bitter smell of burned timber, wet earth, and shattered stone.
The first wave of panic had passed, leaving behind a tense, trembling quiet. Injured giants groaned from inside Gerd's clinic while recruits searched the wreckage for anyone still trapped. Families gathered in frightened groups, holding one another as they stared at the unconscious beasts scattered across the ruined terraces.
Toki hurried over the broken flagstones with Hiyori held tightly against her side.
She stopped in front of Giovanni and looked over him carefully. His black coat had been torn open at the shoulder, fresh blood seeping through the shallow wound left by the elk's antler. Dirt and animal blood stained his clothes, yet the quiet intensity in his eyes remained far more troubling than any injury.
"Gio, please," Toki said softly. Her voice was strained by relief and fear in equal measure. "You are still an escaped prisoner. The council has not cleared your name of the attacks near the shore. If you follow Ida into the Underworld and confront the prince, the elders may use it as proof that you are an enemy of Elbaf."
Giovanni said nothing.
"Stay here with us," she continued. "Let Ida deal with her son and the royal family."
Giovanni slowly raised one hand and pointed across the plaza.
He indicated Gerd's clinic, where wounded villagers lay across bloodstained tables and blankets. Beyond it stood shattered homes, broken bridges, and terrified children clinging to their parents. Finally, his gaze lowered to Hiyori's torn kimono sleeve, where a thin streak of blood marked the scrape left by falling timber.
"Look around, Toki."
His voice was flat and controlled, carrying none of the explosive anger she had heard from him in Wano.
"This wasn't an accident, and it wasn't a fight between warriors. The Princw opened those pens and drove wild beasts into a village full of families because he wanted attention."
Hiyori tightened her hold around Toki's waist.
Giovanni turned toward the dark stairway descending beneath the roots of Yggdrasil.
"The moment he put children in danger, he lost the right to call this a private royal matter. He made it everyone's business."
Before Toki could answer, a heavy thud sounded behind them.
Ida approached with her enormous iron-bound ladle resting across one shoulder like a war club. Her boots struck the damaged plaza with slow, deliberate force. She still held Loki's royal seal in one hand, its scorched surface blackened by the smoke tunnels.
She stopped beside Giovanni and looked down at him.
"I will not order you to remain behind," Ida said. Her voice carried the cold anger of a mother who had already decided that excuses would not be tolerated. "You saved my people. You have every right to be furious."
Her grip tightened around the wooden handle.
"But if you march into the Underworld beside me, you will give me your word on one thing. You will not kill Prince Loki before I finish speaking to him."
Giovanni adjusted Ace at his waist and rested his fingers against the sword's golden hilt. A thin smile touched his lips, though there was no humor in his eyes.
"Then you had better speak quickly, Lady Ida."
Ida stared at him for a moment before giving a firm nod.
"Fair enough."
"Neither of you is going anywhere until I treat that shoulder."
Gerd's sharp voice cut between them.
The young giant doctor hurried across the plaza carrying a jar of strong-smelling salve and a roll of thick linen. She knelt beside Giovanni and carefully pulled the torn fabric away from the wound.
"It's shallow," Giovanni said.
Gerd cleaned the antler wound and applied the salve with practised care. As she began wrapping the bandage around his shoulder, her movements slowed.
"If you enter the Underworld like this, every guard loyal to Loki will think you are going there to execute him. They will attack before you reach the throne room."
Giovanni lowered his eyes to his hand. A narrow strand of black lightning crawled across his fingers before fading.
He closed them into a fist.
Then he drew one slow breath.
'Inhale. Hold. Exhale.'
Gaban's lesson returned to him.
'Sovereign stillness.'
Giovanni pulled the pressure inward. Every stray spark, every thread of Conqueror's Haki, and every trace of anger pressing into the air was dragged back toward the centre of his chest.
The crackling around his body disappeared.
The faint vibration beneath their feet stopped.
Nothing visible remained.
Yet Gerd did not relax.
The silence around Giovanni felt heavier now. His rage had not lessened; it had simply been placed somewhere it could no longer escape without his permission.
Giovanni opened his eyes.
"Better?"
Then he turned and followed Ida toward the stairs.
The descent into Elbaf's Underworld was not a journey through empty caves.
Beneath the great roots of Yggdrasil sprawled a lawless subterranean district filled with rough taverns, gambling houses, smuggler stalls, and fighting pits. Copper lamps hung from crooked stone arches, while green moss glowed across the cavern ceiling. Oil barrels burned beside crowded pathways, filling the air with smoke, alcohol, and roasted meat.
Young giants who rejected the rules of the upper village gathered there to drink, gamble, fight, and praise Prince Loki's loud promises of rebellion. Draft dodgers, exiled brawlers, smugglers, and criminals treated the district as a kingdom beyond the reach of Elbaf's elders.
Normally, the Underworld was a wall of noise.
Today, it fell silent.
Ida marched down the central path with the Great Ladle resting on her shoulder. Each step landed with a deep, steady thud that echoed through the surrounding tunnels.
Giovanni walked beside her.
His torn coat was stained with dust and animal blood, and fresh linen covered his left shoulder. Ace remained secured at his waist. He did not reach for the sword or look toward the giants crowding the streets.
His footsteps barely made a sound.
Dice stopped rolling inside the gambling houses. Conversations died halfway through sentences. Smugglers lowered their crates, while young brawlers wearing Loki's colors stared at the approaching pair.
Then they began moving aside.
Some flattened themselves against the walls. Others dragged tables, barrels, and stools out of the way, clearing a wide path through the middle of the district.
"Is that Lady Ida?" one bookmaker whispered.
The giant beside him swallowed.
"She brought the Great Ladle."
Another young giant looked toward Giovanni, his face paling when he noticed the blood across the human's coat.
"That's the prisoner from the upper village."
"Where are they going?"
No one stepped into Ida's path.
The giants of the Underworld were reckless, but they were not suicidal. They could feel the anger in her footsteps, and the unnerving calm of the bloodstained human beside her was even worse.
The procession continued through the district like a royal march travelling in the wrong direction. Not toward celebration or worship, but toward judgment.
At the end of the broad stone road stood a pair of massive doors made from petrified wood. Loki's crooked crown had been carved across their surface, surrounded by flames and exaggerated images of kneeling warriors.
Two guards stood before the entrance with heavy axes in their hands.
They looked at Ida.
Then they looked at the ladle resting on her shoulder.
Finally, their eyes lowered toward Giovanni.
Neither guard attempted to stop them.
They moved aside without a word.
Ida stepped forward, but Giovanni reached the doors first. He placed one hand against the heavy timber and pushed.
The doors swung inward and struck the stone walls with a deafening crash.
Inside the enormous hall, Loki lounged across a broad stone bench covered in animal furs. Empty barrels lay scattered around him, and a projection Den Den Mushi continued displaying grainy images of the smoke-filled village above.
Several attendants stood nearby, laughing nervously along with their prince.
He was massive and held a barrel-sized horn of mead in one hand. Foam ran down his beard as he threw back his head and laughed.
"Did you hear them scream?" he roared. "The council must be tearing out what little hair they have left! That will teach those old fools to ignore—"
He turned toward the open doors.
Ida stood in the entrance with the Great Ladle on her shoulder.
Beside her, covered in blood and dust, stood Giovanni.
Loki stared at them for one silent heartbeat.
Then his grin returned.
He leaned back against his throne and laughed even louder.
---
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