Thump!
Terracotta's bulky form slumped to the floor.
Queen Titi sat frozen by the bed, her eyes locked on the fallen woman. She couldn't tear herself away.
Gion, shifted into her bat form, had swooped in just in time. It was her strike that brought Terracotta down.
"Is she... dead?" Queen Titi finally whispered, eyeing the thin red line on Terracotta's neck. No blood flowed, but the mark looked precise—lethal if Gion willed it.
Queen Titi had no grasp of the brutal world the strong inhabited. She only knew the tales: the mightiest warriors could shatter mountains or summon storms. And Gion, hailed by the World Government as the world's greatest swordswoman, wielded that kind of power.
"Would you rather she live or die, Your Highness?" Gion replied, her voice laced with dark amusement. No direct answer—just a nudge toward the irreversible.
Some lines, once crossed, couldn't be uncrossed. Regret was a luxury they no longer had.
"To die or live..." Queen Titi murmured, then let out a heavy sigh. "Better if she's dead. No one can know about this."
Decision made. Terracotta had pushed her to this edge, and Queen Titi never wanted blood on her hands. But retreat wasn't an option anymore. For Alabasta's sake, sacrifices had to be made.
"I'll handle the body," Gion said, a faint smile curling her bat-like lips. "No one saw her enter. I'll stage it as a sudden collapse."
Her Observation Haki had blanketed the palace earlier, tracking every soul's movement. She'd let Terracotta slip through only because she didn't foresee the full threat. Now, it was too late.
Deep down, Gion backed Ross's scheme. Conquering Alabasta with minimal bloodshed was the cleanest path. She'd seen the fire in Ross's eyes—the burning ambition they all shared. To claim their destiny, they'd forfeit plenty along the way.
"Thank you," Queen Titi breathed, slumping back as tension drained from her shoulders.
One life lost already. No choice now but to press on, damn the consequences. Alabasta's future outweighed any personal cost.
She paused, then added softly, "Igaram knows too."
Gion halted mid-drag of the corpse. "Understood."
If Queen Titi said it, then Igaram had to go. But he was with Cobra right now—tricky. She'd need Ross's input on the play. Tactics weren't her strength; she'd leave the scheming to him.
"This is getting messy..." Queen Titi's quiet thanks lingered as the palace doors sealed shut behind Gion.
"Vivi..." she whispered, hand resting on her rounded belly. The name her husband had chosen felt like sunlight, but shadows clouded her joy. A tangle of love, guilt, and resolve twisted inside her.
Was this right? Wrong? No time for doubt. Terracotta's death sealed it—betrayal now stained her bond with Cobra, victim or not. She'd crossed into the role of executioner.
"I'm sorry, Cobra," she murmured. Yet even as his face flickered in her mind, Ross's image overtook it. He'd claimed her heart long ago. And Vivi? Their daughter, born of that forbidden fire—not Cobra's.
---
Far across Alabasta's endless dunes, a dusty road snaked toward the capital, Alubarna. The sun blazed mercilessly, turning sand to scorching glass and warping the air with heat haze.
Amid the inferno, a flock of Spot-Billed Ducks thundered along like a golden river. Native to Alabasta, these swift birds were the kingdom's fastest mounts, kicking up swirling dust clouds in their wake.
Cobra rode at the front, steady on his duck's back. Igaram flanked him, barking directions to the trailing group.
At the rear, two burly ducks strained to haul a lavish carriage—opulent, almost comical amid the grit. Inside rode Ross, Sora, and the rest of their crew.
Zephyr had skipped the royal welcome, opting to hole up at the Marine base by the docks. He planned to channel his boredom into pounding some local pirates while Ross handled Alabasta.
Bru…Bru…Bru!
Igaram's Den Den Mushi buzzed mid-ride. He scowled but fished it out and answered.
"What is it?"
"Lord Igaram, disaster! The chef's in trouble—Terracotta!"
"What?!" Igaram nearly tumbled from his duck. "Tell me everything!"
He and Terracotta were tight as thieves. Trouble for her meant panic for him.
"Sir, she collapsed in the lavatory. Sudden death."
Sudden death? On a body tougher than his own? Igaram barked back, "You're joking! She's healthier than a Sea King!"
"It's true, sir. See for yourself when you return."
The snail's frantic tone rang genuine, but doubt gnawed at Igaram. How? Why now?
Then it hit him. That morning, as they left, Terracotta had slipped him a sealed letter. "Read this when you bring them back," she'd said.
Blind trust had kept him from peeking. Now, regret burned.
He cut the call and wheeled his duck around. "Change of plans! Head back to the palace—now!"
The group pivoted, dust swirling as they raced toward Alubarna. Igaram urged his mount faster, heart pounding. He needed answers: What killed his wife? And what secrets hid in that letter?
…
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