Solo Pirating - Chapter 78

Chapter 78

The battlefield fell silent as the Red Hair Pirates asserted their presence to put an end to the war. The tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Marco broke the silence, his voice trembling with desperation.

"We need to save Ace!" he shouted, his eyes pleading with Shanks. "The…The son of your captain! Please!"

Shanks hesitated, his expression grim. "Marco," he began slowly, "Ace is already dead. The man on the execution platform is a Doppelgänger. Only those with powerful Haki can sense it."

Marco's face twisted in disbelief and anguish. He concentrated, closing his eyes and reaching out with his Haki. Now that Sengoku and Garp were no longer near 'Ace,' he could feel it. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks—it was not his brother. Marco fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Their father had died... for nothing.

The weight of their crushing defeat settled over him, and he cried openly, his sobs mingling with the silent grief of the remaining Whitebeard Pirates. The sight of their resilient first commander brought many to tears, the reality of their losses sinking in deeper than ever.

Sengoku raised a hand, his expression cold and unyielding. The executioners, with mechanical precision, brought their blades down in a swift, synchronized motion, severing Bon Clay's head from his body. The lifeless head, still bearing Ace's visage, tumbled to the ground, bouncing once before coming to rest at Marco's feet, eyes staring vacantly. The silent horror played out on screens across the world, the new Den Den Mushi ensuring that the grim spectacle remained muted. All the world saw was Marco, on his knees, his body shaking with silent sobs, as the head of 'Ace' rolled to a stop beside him, the cruel illusion shattering whatever hope remained.

As this unfolded, Mihawk quietly walked away. Aokiji asked him where he was going.

"I was only told to participate in the war against Whitebeard. Fighting Shanks is not part of the agreement," he said, disappearing into the chaos with his usual air of indifference.

Shanks addressed the Marines, his voice carrying an unspoken threat. "If any of you wish to continue fighting, know that my crew and I will not hesitate to engage."

Turning to Blackbeard, Shanks asked, "Do you still want to fight?"

Blackbeard, eyeing Shanks warily, decided to postpone their battle. "I've got what I came for," he said, retreating with his crew.

The battlefield fell silent again as the Red Hair Pirates firmly asserted their presence. Shanks then addressed both the remaining Whitebeard Pirates and the Marines. "Let me save face for both sides. Allow us to take Whitebeard and Ace's bodies. Their deaths will not become a spectacle for the world."

The Marines turned to Sengoku, who quietly agreed. "Let them take the bodies. I will take responsibility for the repercussions." He then ordered, "Tend to the wounded."

Shanks nodded in gratitude. "Thank you.", then he turned towards the battlefield, and screamed with a Haki-infused voice :

"This war…Is. OVER!"

The Pacifista halted, the Warlords ceased their attacks, and the Marines lowered their weapons. The "Summit War of Marineford," which would be known as the greatest war of the Great Age of Pirates, had finally ended. The Whitebeard Pirates mourned the losses of Ace and Whitebeard, while the Marines, appearing indifferent, began to regroup. The battlefield, now quiet, bore the scars of the epic conflict that had just concluded. Shanks, with a solemn expression, oversaw the respectful handling of Whitebeard and Ace's bodies, ensuring their legacies would be honored, not exploited.

As the Red Hair Pirates prepared to leave with the fallen heroes, Marco's sobs slowly subsided, replaced by a steely resolve. The war was over, but the fight for the legacy of Whitebeard and Ace had just begun. Shanks, sensing the shift in Marco, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We'll make sure their sacrifice wasn't in vain," he promised.

The once tumultuous battlefield was now a somber scene of mourning and reflection. The great era of Whitebeard had ended, and a new chapter in the world of piracy was beginning. The silence was heavy with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future. As the sun set on Marineford, the shadows lengthened, and a laugh could be heard as Moria teleported away.

"Kishishishishi!"

— — — —

20th of April, 1522

Dressrosa

Vice Admiral Tsuru walked through the vibrant streets of Dressrosa, flanked by twenty Marines. Seaman First Class Monkey D. Luffy marveled at the bustling scenery, his wide-eyed wonder contrasting sharply with Tsuru's stern demeanor. Her sharp eyes scanned for any signs of Doflamingo's deceit, the air thick with the scent of flowers and the hum of a lively marketplace.

Luffy’s excitement was palpable as he darted from one living toy to another. “Wow, Tsuru-san! Look at that one! It’s a toy soldier!” he exclaimed, pointing at a marching figure. His laughter rang out as he engaged with ballerinas, toy dragons, and dogs playing fetch, oblivious to the darker truths Tsuru sought to shield him from. His joy momentarily lightened the heavy atmosphere, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in Tsuru’s mind.

As they reached Dressrosa Grand Place, Tsuru's heart pounded with unease. The square was packed, the air electric with anticipation. Pushing through the crowd, she saw a massive screen projecting the chaotic scenes of the Marineford war. The festive air clashed violently with the brutal reality of the battle displayed.

“How is this possible?” Tsuru whispered, her voice trembling. Doflamingo had assured her that no word of Ace’s execution would reach Dressrosa. Yet, the grim truth was laid bare for all to see. Had Doflamingo lied? The thought chilled her. Tsuru glanced at Luffy.

Luffy’s initial amazement was palpable as he watched the titanic clash between Moria and Doflamingo unfold on the colossal screen. The dramatic grand reveal had him spellbound, eyes wide with unbridled excitement. Tsuru swallowed hard, her heart heavy with foreboding, as chaos erupted around them. The toys began to transform back into people, their desperate screams tearing through the air as the horrifying truth of Doflamingo’s betrayal spread like wildfire.

“Doflamingo betrayed us!”

“How could he do this?”

“He lied to everyone!”

Tsuru’s keen gaze fell upon Capone Bege, one of Moria’s enigmatic subordinates, standing near a woman who seemed, according to the people around them, to be Dressrosa’s true princess. She moved to approach the princess, her instincts driving her to protect and seek answers, but her attention was wrenched back to the screen.

The image zoomed in on the bound and gagged form of Ace.

Luffy’s face twisted in disbelief. “Tsuru-san, what is this about?” he asked slowly, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and rage.

Tsuru felt a chill race down her spine, and she instinctively took a step back. What? She quickly regained her composure, shaking off the momentary lapse. How could she have faltered before a mere rookie, even one as extraordinary as Luffy after only a month of training?

Luffy’s eyes were obscured beneath the brim of his hat. He looked back at the screen, the image of Ace’s agonized face etched into his soul. The sight of his brother, bound and gagged, ignited a fire within him that burned hotter with each passing second. In that heart-stopping moment, Luffy unleashed his King’s Haki, a wave of overwhelming force that left Tsuru reeling in stunned disbelief.

“So young…” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. The sheer power emanating from Luffy was unlike anything she had ever encountered in someone so unseasoned. The crowd around them staggered, many falling to their knees under the crushing weight of his presence.

Luffy’s voice was deadly calm as he repeated, “Why are Marines executing my brother? Was that why we left Marineford? Did you want to hide this from me?” His words cut through the air, each one a blade of raw emotion and betrayal. The trust he had placed in Tsuru now felt like a cruel joke, the foundations of his belief crumbling beneath him.

Time seemed to stand still as the executioner’s blade descended, severing Ace’s life. The image of Ace’s final, tormented moments burned into Luffy’s mind, a searing brand of grief and rage. His heart shattered, every beat echoing with the pain of loss and the bitterness of betrayal. He fell to his knees, a primal scream of agony erupting from his very core, shaking the very ground beneath him. The sound was raw, a cry that carried all his anguish and despair, ripping through the air with a force that left everyone around him frozen in shock.

The scream tore through the air, a raw and visceral manifestation of his soul-shattering pain. It echoed off the buildings, the very ground trembling under the force of his anguish. Tsuru watched, her heart breaking for him, knowing that no words could ever soothe this kind of hurt.

But slowly, almost imperceptibly, the scream began to change. It was subtle at first, a slight shift in tone, an edge of something other than pain. The raw scream of torment started to intermingle with a sound that was disturbingly different. It was as if the very depth of his agony was transforming, evolving into something equally profound but twisted in its nature.

Luffy’s voice, once filled with sheer agony, started to take on a manic edge. The guttural cry of despair began to waver, faltering, and then, inconceivably, it started to sound like laughter. It was a slow, eerie transformation. His screams of pain morphed, blending into gasping, hysterical laughter. The sound grew louder, more unsettling, a crazed and manic laugh that sent shivers down the spine of everyone who heard it.

Tsuru’s eyes widened in horror and disbelief as she witnessed the transformation. Luffy’s body began to change, his muscles bulging and elongating, his hair turning a stark, unnatural white. His eyes, previously shadowed by his hat, now glowed with an eerie light, red ring-like pupils piercing through the chaos.

The laughter continued to swell, an unrelenting symphony of madness that echoed through the plaza. Luffy’s clothes, save for his straw hat, sash, and sandals, turned white. White clouds began to float around his neck. His eyebrows swirled and billowed, adding to the surreal, almost divine transformation.

Tsuru watched as Luffy laughed and laughed, his voice an unrelenting crescendo of primal power. The world around him pulsed with each beat of the drum, reality itself bending and warping to his newfound will. The rhythm of the Drums of Liberation beat within Luffy, each thud resonating through the stunned crowd. His heartbeat, now a musical rhythm, filled the air with its intoxicating melody.

The crowd around him began to stir, whispers of disbelief and awe spreading like wildfire. “Nika! It’s Nika!” someone shouted, the cry picked up and echoed by others. “He truly exists! We’re free from Doflamingo! The God of Freedom!”

Luffy’s laughter grew louder, more joyous, as he absorbed their adulation. His body, now fully transformed, seemed to pulse with divine energy. The beat of the Drums of Liberation resonated through the air, a rhythm that ignited the hearts of everyone present.

“It’s a miracle!” a woman cried, tears streaming down her face.

“Nika has come to save us!” a man shouted, his voice choked with emotion.

The people of Dressrosa began to dance, their movements wild and unrestrained. They chanted the names of their saviors—Moria, Nika, and Princess Viola. The once-oppressive atmosphere of the plaza transformed into one of ecstatic celebration. The name of Nika, the Sun God, echoed through the air, a beacon of hope and freedom.

Luffy’s body glowed with a radiant light as he ascended, lifting off the ground with effortless grace. His form rose higher and higher, passing in front of the sun. The sight of him, silhouetted against the brilliant orb, engraved itself into the minds and hearts of the people below. His laughter echoed through the heavens, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy.

“Ahahahahaha!” Luffy, now Nika, laughed, the sound reverberating through the sky. “Ahahahahahaha!”

As he disappeared into the clouds, his presence lingered, a symbol of their newfound freedom. The people of Dressrosa danced and chanted, their voices rising in a triumphant chorus.

“Long live Nika!” someone shouted.

“Praise Moria! Praise Princess Viola!” another voice echoed.

Tsuru watched in silent awe. For the first time in her life, she swore.

"Fuck."