The next day, the Sanctuary docked at the private pier outside Red Port.
Blake walked at the very front. One step behind him were Stella and two expressionless CP agents. Trailing them were dozens of slaves, maids, and guards.
Yesterday, after Blake defeated Child Charlotte Linlin and obtained the "Iron Balloon" talent, his sense of security shot up by a huge margin. Only then did he finally dare to head out to sea in search of opportunity.
This time, Blake had no intention of returning to the Holy Land anytime soon. He planned to wander through the Four Seas, seeing whether he could find suitable powerhouses—and Devil Fruits that hadn't appeared yet.
"Saint Blake, I'm Vice Admiral Gumir, assigned to your voyage. This is my adjutant, Bastille. For the time ahead, we'll be escorting your Sanctuary with a Marine warship sailing nearby."
The moment they arrived at Red Port, a Marine vice admiral who looked eerily like Golden Lion Shiki approached Blake and gave a slight bow.
Ordinary civilians had to kneel when facing a Celestial Dragon. The Marines only needed to maintain respect.
Because this voyage would be long and far, the Marines had dispatched a warship for escort duty.
Blake gave Gumir a small nod.
"Then I'll be in your care."
Vice Admiral Gumir froze.
This was the first time in his life he'd ever seen a Celestial Dragon speak so politely.
Only after Blake boarded did Bastille lower his voice and mutter, "He doesn't look as unreasonable as the rumors…"
Gumir shot him a glare.
"Why are you talking so much? Move. Keep up!"
Blake wasn't truly a polite person. He simply believed that real arrogance lived in the heart.
The Marines were, in a sense, still the Celestial Dragons' subordinates. As long as there was no conflict of interest, Blake didn't see the point in offending people with words.
"Gumir and Bastille, huh?"
Blake let out a quiet chuckle.
He remembered these two.
Gumir was the commander of the G-2 base, and he'd crossed paths with Ace before.
Bastille's reddish-brown long hair and the bull-head mask over his face were memorable—you'd instinctively assume this was a ruthless character.
In reality, Bastille's most famous "achievement" was getting one-shot by Sabo in Dressrosa. As of the day Blake transmigrated, the guy still hadn't even woken up.
But it didn't matter.
Blake had never expected these Marines to be much help anyway.
With a warship present, at least pirates would feel some pressure—so that some idiot who didn't recognize the World Government flag wouldn't come bothering him.
Two months later—South Blue.
"Saint Blake, we'll be arriving at the Taya Kingdom shortly."
Hearing the maid's voice, Blake sat up from his lounge chair, removed his sunglasses, and looked into the distance.
"So we're finally here?"