1: The Conqueror Of War

Luffy's Point Of View

You are all here for one purpose; to lend your strength in our battle against the heathenness vampires! This is a century old war that we, the priests, must win! You will be tested, and I'm not going to lie, some of you will die before you even get to the battlefield." His voice was somber as he said this, but he went on to talk about how the rewards were greater than the loss of a few lives.

I don't want to be here. I didn't sign up for this. I thought to myself as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I looked around the auditorium we stood in. At least one hundred men had their eyes glued to the stage. This place used to be a place of learning, a school. Plays were done here, children laughed with glee, mothers cried in pride. This was a sanctuary to some and a boring time-sucker to others. In my mind, it was as though we were standing in a church, the sacrilege, the injustice of it all. We were about to go out and kill vampires, which I hated the thought of to begin with, and this man was making it sound as though it was a glorious task.

Since when did I become a person who did things he didn't want to? I fight for the feel of adrenaline in my veins, for the pride of others, and, above all else, to make myself stronger. Strong enough to protect… To protect…

"And now, I present to you, someone you should all have heard tell of. The hero. The Conqueror Of War. Monkey D. Luffy!" My attention snapped back to the man at the sound of my name. He acted as though I was some legendary something-or-other. Like I wasn't just a nineteen-year-old brat who didn't know how not to fight. In his eyes, in everyone's, I was a warrior. One of the few who had survived more than one battle. Hell, I'd been in countless battles for all number of reasons, but this one… This one pissed me off. Made my blood boil. This one wasn't my choice. I didn't give a shit about vampires. I'd never met one, who was I to assume they were all bad?

People revered me for my feats, and now they wanted to use me like a loaded gun. I was at my limit and the first ass I was gonna kick would be that loud-mouthed bastard Lucci. Priest my ass, he was the devil.

I'd always fought because I wanted to, and here I was about to tell a bunch of poor farmers who'd been drafted into the godforsaken war to go die like dogs because it was the right thing to do. Fuck that weird-bearded freak! I shot him a glare as I stepped on the tiny platform that'd been used as a stage. Him and his freaky-ass pigeon could go straight to hell.

He was taller than me and wore a black suit and a white tie. Oh, how I'd dreamed of wringing his tan little neck with that spotless cloth he kept tied there. His tan cloak that signified his place as captain hung loosely on his shoulders, as though it could be shed at any given moment and he would throw himself into battle. His pigeon sat on his right shoulder, its beady eyes following my every move. He was the one that tracked me down and dragged my ass here, kicking and screaming. And now, without the consent of his superiors, he was using these fine people filling this room as a threat. I help, or they die.

I took my place in front of the microphone and opened my mouth to speak.