Chapter 8: The Canaan Kingdom and Roger
After a long time, the battle gradually subsided.
The fight between the King of Jacob Kingdom and the heavily armored figure had been decided.
Nathan's magnificent armor was shattered from the fierce battle, and the clothes beneath were stained red with his own blood and that of his enemy. After managing to thrust his saber through his opponent's body, his Haki and stamina were completely depleted.
He leaned powerlessly against a collapsed, broken section of the wall, gasping for breath. He clutched at his shoulder, where the bone was shattered, and his blood-soaked eyes glared angrily at the figure dragging a war hammer, walking step-by-step toward him.
His opponent's body was also covered in blood. A saber was embedded in her chest, her throat had been cut, and her gas mask had been half-shorn off, revealing a glimpse of her true face.
Nathan stared at her exposed white hair, scarlet eyes, the soft, blurry curves of her face, and her rough, chapped skin. A mocking grin spread across his blood-stained lips. "I didn't lose to you. I only lost to time. If this were twenty years ago, I could have killed all of you by myself—"
SPLAT…
The eight-sided war hammer, stained with blood and dust, came down. Steel met flesh, and a spray of crimson liquid splattered against the wall, slowly sliding down.
The figure in heavy armor gave her enemy no chance for more last words. Ignoring the excruciating pain in her own body, she brought the hammer down again and again.
Beneath the mask, her chapped lips were pressed tight, her eyes flashing with endless hatred. She mechanically raised the heavy war hammer and smashed it down, time after time, venting the accumulated hatred of generations.
She only stopped when the spattering blood had stained the broken wall red and the king had been reduced to a paste. Her body went limp and she fell backward, stumbling onto the grass.
Just as Nathan had said, he had only lost to the passage of time, to old age.
The heavily armored figure had not truly defeated Nathan; she hadn't even managed to inflict a fatal wound. She had simply relied on her youthful physique and superior durability to outlast him.
With her vengeance complete, her vision blurred. She stared blankly at the sky as her past flashed before her eyes. She knew this was what her grandfather had spoken of—the "revolving lantern" one sees before death.
Her condition was terrible. It wasn't just the numerous wounds on her body; a disease originating in her lungs was constantly draining her life force like a vengeful ghost. Her deteriorating body told her she didn't have long to live. It was for this very reason that, upon learning that several children had been killed while fetching water, she had resolutely launched this attack.
After a long while, she heard panicked shouts from all around. There were soldiers fleeing in terror at the death of their king. And there were her own few subjects, the ones who had watched her grow up.
She licked her lips, chapped from extreme dehydration, and thought to herself, Mother, Grandfather, I failed to become the great monarch you hoped I would be…
In her dimming world, she saw her mother, who had left when she was young, and her grandfather, who had died full of regret, believing he had failed his subjects and his friends.
"..."
A series of anxious shouts rang out. She could sense her people approaching her. But she no longer had the strength to answer her subjects. She weakly closed her eyes.
"The strongest enemy is... dead. The rest is up to you all now..."
Just before her eyes closed completely, she vaguely saw a figure with short, pale-golden hair and snow-white wings. He was bathed in a warm, golden light, as divine and inviolable as an angel. Golden particles of light swirled around him, then drifted down like falling leaves, merging into her blood-stained heavy armor.
Meanwhile, dozens of nautical miles from Jacob Kingdom, a little-known standoff was taking place on the sea.
The sea breeze blew, making the Jolly Roger—a skull set against crossed swords—whip and snap in the wind. Figures exuding powerful auras were scattered casually across the deck, facing off against two distant warships.
Aboard the warships, terrified Marine soldiers gripped their swords and guns. The cannon turrets slowly turned, aiming directly at the three-masted ship floating on the water.
Marine HQ Vice Admiral Gummir's face had lost its usual composure. His expression was grim and full of apprehension.
"So the rumors were true. That apprentice from Roger's ship has grown this strong, and somehow, he's come to the East Blue."
Suddenly, the cabin door of the pirate ship slowly opened. A red-haired figure wearing a straw hat walked out into the sunlight.
"What in the world happened on that island? Have even Vice Admirals been dispatched?" Red-Haired Shanks pressed down the straw hat on his head and walked past his crewmates to the bow of the ship.
Looking at the two massive warships before him, a shadow of doubt crossed his eyes. "Back then, Captain Roger destroyed the army of the Jacob Kingdom. With King Canaan III's strength at the time, they should have been able to retake part of the plains and thrive."
"But what is this situation?"
"Did the Jacob Kingdom produce another exceptionally strong warrior after we left?"
Just then, the voice of Vice Admiral Gummir blared from the warship's speakers. "Red-Haired Shanks, what is a man like you doing here?"
Shanks slowly looked up, his gaze crossing the sea and landing directly on Vice Admiral Gummir. One hand rested lightly on the hilt of his famous sword, Gryphon, his expression as cold as ice.
"Don't block the way, Marine."
As his words fell, an invisible wave swept across the sea, instantly kicking up a gale and raising waves several meters high.
On the distant warships, the waves crashed against the hulls, causing the ships to rock violently. Countless Marine soldiers instantly collapsed, falling unconscious. In a moment, only a handful of people were left standing on the decks of the two warships.
Gummir's eyes widened at the sight. He instinctively gripped the hilt of his katana and muttered to himself, "This is... Conqueror's Haki."
He never imagined that even an apprentice from Roger's ship would possess such innate spirit. Gummir's scalp tingled. If Red-Haired Shanks had this kind of talent, then did the blue-haired brat hiding in the back have it too?
"A familiar ceiling..." In a stone house on the plateau, a young girl with long white hair and sharp, black oni horns slowly opened her eyes.
"Am I... still alive?"
She instinctively propped herself up and sat up on her bed. She looked around and saw the suit of armor she had inherited from her grandfather mounted on a stand nearby. The bloodstains on its surface had been wiped clean, but the numerous ugly cracks remained.
Seeing this, a shadow crossed the girl's eyes. She knew that with the plateau's current capabilities, it was impossible to repair this armor.
She pushed aside the patched, yellowed blanket that smelled strongly of the sea and slowly stood up. She walked to the broken mirror on the wooden table and studied her current appearance. Seeing her own rough, chapped skin, the girl finally confirmed that she had, for some reason, survived.
CLANG...
The sound of something heavy falling to the ground made the girl turn her head instinctively.
"Your Majesty?!!" A few gaunt women with dry, rough skin were staring at her, their eyes filled with joy.
The girl looked at the women, who were more than a head shorter than her, and a gentle smile unconsciously appeared on her face.
"It's me. I'm still alive..."