As the heavy wooden door of the mansion creaked shut behind them, Ragnar and Isabella stepped out into the crisp morning air, their hands entwined.
The mafia guards stationed outside instantly noticed their exit, their eyes widening in shock and disbelief as they took in Isabella's arm linked with a strange man's.
They knew their boss's possessive nature all too well, and seeing Isabella with another man was like a red flag to a bull.
"Boss won't like this," one of them muttered as his hand reached for the gun at his waist.
Isabella tensed, her wings beginning to unfurl, her body preparing to shift into her angelic form.
"Ragnar, look out!" she cried, her voice filled with worry.
But Ragnar just chuckled, looking very confident. He didn't bother to look at the guards. He simply raised his hand, his fingers splayed in a casual, dismissive gesture.
"Water Dragon," he said, his voice a low rumble.
A massive, serpentine form of water erupted from the ground, its body undulating with raw, primal power. It was a water dragon, a creature born of pure water and will, its watery scales shimmering in the morning light. It towered over the mansion, its eyes seemed to burn with an intelligent, malevolent gleam.
The mafia guards froze, their faces morphing from shock to sheer, unadulterated terror. They knew what they were looking at.
They had heard the tales, the whispered rumors of legendary Devil Fruit users. And this... this was the real deal.
"Run!" one of them screamed, his voice shrill with panic. They scattered, trying to flee, to find any shelter, any escape. But it was too late.
The water dragon struck with the speed of a lightning bolt, its massive jaws snapping shut around the fleeing men. They screamed, their voices cut off abruptly as they were swallowed whole, their bodies dissolving into the dragon's watery form.
One by one, the mafia guards vanished, consumed by the relentless, unstoppable force of Ragnar's power.
In the end, only a single guard remained, the one who had first sounded the alarm. He stood frozen, his gun hanging limply at his side, his face a mask of abject terror.
Ragnar walked towards him, his steps slow, measured, the water dragon flowing along beside him like a liquid shadow. He stopped a few feet away, his golden eyes locked with the man's.
"You have two choices," Ragnar said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "You can run, and I'll throw you into the sea, where you'll either swim back to your boss or drown trying. Or..." He paused, a cruel, predatory smile spreading across his face. "You can tell me where your boss keeps his real treasures, and I'll let you live. Which will it be?"
The man's face paled, his eyes darting from Ragnar to the water dragon and back. He knew when he was beaten.
"The... the treasure... It's on an island," he stammered, his voice barely audible. "A private island, off the coast. He keeps it guarded by... by his personal guards."
Ragnar nodded, his smile widening. "Good boy," he said, his voice mocking. "And where is this island?"
The man told him, his voice shaking, his eyes downcast. Ragnar listened, committing the directions to memory.
Then, he turned, walking back to the water dragon. He raised his hand, and the massive form dissolved into a cascade of water, flowing back into the ground.
He turned to Isabella, his eyes filled with a fierce, triumphant light.
"Let's go, we have a treasure to find," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.
And with that, they set off, leaving the mansion and its terrified, lone survivor behind. The sea awaited, and with it, the true heart of their enemy's power. The game was afoot, and Ragnar was eager to play.
…
The small boat cut through the waves, Ragnar at the helm, his golden eyes fixed on the horizon. Isabella sat beside him, her wings folded neatly, her eyes scanning the sea, a fierce determination etched on her face.
The island they sought was a smudge on the skyline, growing larger with every passing minute.
As they approached, they could see the guards patrolling the shore, their forms small but visible. Ragnar raised a hand, his fingers splayed, and a massive wave of Conqueror's Haki washed over the island.
It was a testament to his power, a demonstration of his will bending the very air around him. The guards crumpled to the ground, their bodies slumping bonelessly, only one left standing, his face pale, his body trembling.
Ragnar guided the boat to the shore, the hull scraping softly against the sand. The lone guard stood there, his eyes wide with terror, his hands clasped in front of him in a futile attempt to ward off the inevitable. Ragnar stepped off the boat, Isabella following close behind, her wings rustling softly.
"Lead us to the treasure house," Ragnar commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl. The guard nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard, and turned to lead them up the beach and into the island's interior.
The treasure house was a squat, unassuming building, its door reinforced with heavy steel bars. The guard led them to it, his steps slow, hesitant. He paused at the door, his hand hovering over the handle.
"Inside... It's all there," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he spoke tremblingly.
Ragnar nodded, pushing the door open. The room inside was filled with treasure, giant stacks of Berries, gold and silver bars, and chests overflowing with jewelry. It was a hoard fit for a mafia boss, a testament to their enemy's wealth and greed.
Ragnar's eyes scanned the room, taking it all in. Then, they landed on a small, unassuming box in the corner. He walked over to it, his steps echoing in the silent room. He opened it, revealing a single, crimson fruit nestled in a bed of velvet.
"A Devil Fruit," he murmured, his eyes widening in shock. He turned to the guard, who was peeking in through the door. "Why does your boss keep this here?"
The guard swallowed, his eyes darting from the fruit to Ragnar and back. "He... he plans to use it to recruit a strong subordinate," he stammered. "He doesn't want to eat it himself, in case... in case he gains a power he can't control and loses the ability to swim."
Ragnar raised an eyebrow, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. "Just for this reason?" he asked, his voice incredulous.
"Yes, sir." The guard nodded, his face pale.
Ragnar shook his head, a slow, disdainful smile spreading across his face. He waved his hand, and the treasure began to rise, lifting off the ground, floating towards him.
With a thought, it all vanished into his Heaven's Dimension, the space within his Seraphim power.
The guard's eyes widened, his face draining of what little color it had left. He knew what was coming. He knew the fate of those who served their purpose and they never lived.
Sure enough, a thin, sharp needle of water materialized in Ragnar's hand. It pierced the guard's heart, a clean, merciful kill. The guard crumpled to the ground, his body dissolving into water, absorbed by Ragnar's power.
Ragnar turned, leaving the treasure house, Isabella close on his heels. They returned to the boat, leaving the island and its empty guards behind.
The sea was calm, the sun warm on their faces. Ragnar guided the boat back towards the mainland, towards the town where Nico Robin was rumored to be.
Isabella looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of awe and concern. "Are you sure about this, Ragnar?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Recruiting Nico Robin... It's not going to be easy."
He smiled, a slow, confident curve of his lips. "I've never been one to shy away from a challenge, Isabella," he said, his voice filled with a quiet, unshakeable resolve. "And besides, I have you by my side. Together, we can face whatever comes next."
She nodded, her own smile mirroring his. The boat cut through the waves, carrying them towards their next encounter, their next adventure.