(A/N)
There was a story 'bout how his line got flip-turned upside down; you may take a minute, just sit right there, and listen to an abridged history of how 'magic' is laughed at in the Marines.
(End A/N)
The caravel barely survived the impact.
It wasn't a straight-on crashing blow, either; the Bucket was able to turn slightly so that its starboard crashed against the pirate ship's port side. Nevertheless, the caravel had seen better days and began taking on water almost immediately after collision.
Meanwhile, a certain swordsman returned to his feet as several Marines leaped onto the side of the Sunny to ascend to the lower decks. Pulling two of his three swords from their scabbards, the Straw Hat swordsman rapidly descended to the grass-covered deck as one Marine yelled commands to his subordinates.
Baldrick grit his teeth unhappily; though the other fellow, the one who had swum over earlier, was nowhere to be seen, a different pirate now stood ready to fight- and he held swords, which were much more likely to leave a Marine unable to return to his feet.
The sergeant decided to change tactics slightly, and gave the riflemen orders to fire at will.
It bought time splendidly; as the swordsman pirate was busy defending and taking cover, Baldrick gave the order for the snipers to also fire at will and motioned towards the rest of the Squad to get the boarding gear in place.
When the Sunny had been rammed, Sanji had reacted as fast as he could to protect the navigator from any rolling or airborne objects; when the gunfire and yelling started, he pulled her to relative safety behind some solid objects.
When he heard the sound of someone yelling, "He's hit, get around him quick!" the chef was in the process of moving Robin to where she would also be protected. The outcry only gave him pause for a short moment before he accelerated his pace.
Without great success, the Most Overconfident One tried to pull himself towards the pool containing the spheres. However, he only managed a few inches before his strength failed, his leaking blood lowering his already treacherously dwindled supply.
As the Overlord struggled, the captain entered the room and took in the spectacle before his eyes. "Will you look at that… piles of treasure, presumably a few JuJu items, and-" Momentarily confused by the large pool, Vonvarr frowned. "Guess the ancient guy liked swimming in his treasury; a bit odd, but I'm sure rich people from hundreds of years ago had some other weird habits as well."
Stopping alongside the struggling man, the Marine continued to revel in the sight of the luxuries. Once most of the glory was absorbed, he stomped on the wounded man's back to quell the struggling, and then kicked him in the side to make sure he didn't try again for a few more seconds.
"Quite a haul, isn't it?" Vonvarr swept one arm around the room, putting his boot back on the Overlord while making sure he stayed within the sights of the rifle. "Almost makes the centuries of manpower dedicated to protecting this rock worth it. But though my superiors may disagree somewhat, I'm not entirely certain it was worth the death of half my crew!" On the last word, Vonvarr slammed his foot onto the most recent wound sported by his weakened opponent.
Grunting as he was crushed back to the ground, the Overlord struggled to maintain a clear head. Reaching forward again, he endeavored to pull himself towards the water- though his previously slow progress was made even more sluggish due to being half stood upon.
"You know," His mind and body not at full health, Vonvarr began a monologue in his partial daze. "I'm the captain of what might be called a specialist crew. If the records are to be believed, then it came into being during the final stages of the Min Leader's presence- dedicated solely to eradicating said Leader. In that first crew, several highly experienced individuals were collected, almost every one of them a known name. Their first mission was to capture vessels on loan to the Leader and plunder any items that could be used against him, since their means of combat back then were… less than effective against that particular foe."
Inching forward, Steve struggled to crawl while barely paying attention to the other man who had lost considerable quantities of blood.
"Six ships, they stole. Only two of which had anything they were looking for- fortunately, they were both quite well loaded down." Stabbing the man through an armored bicep before raising the rifle, Vonvarr ran a finger along the flat of the dagger he'd replaced the previous bayonet with. "Of course, they could only guess as to what their effects were- whatever the then-captain deemed possibly worthless in combat was used to test the capabilities of the other items. A few of those spares made it through the testing- only to be tested on again more recently."
Out of the corner of his eye, the Giant Slayer saw a slight blink of light from a far corner of the room. Though briefly flickering once more, the glow failed to illuminate what it was coming from.
"It's only because of those fodder items that more… modern methods were put in place." To accentuate his point, the Marine pointed the rifle back down and shot a prong off the helmet of his captive. "It took quite a bit of pleading to get them to clear the funding- heh, a once respected unit of the Marines now has to bargain in order to get modern equipment developed."
Staring at the small, smoking hole in the floor, the Most Overconfident Master clenched his teeth and reached forward once more, only to have his wound stomped on again.
"Back in the-" Vonvarr crushed his boot heel against the man's back, "-early days, the squad was taken seriously! Even for many years after the end of the Leader problem, they got good funding and a shiny name once in a while. Nowadays? HAH! We're a joke of the Marines! Instead of famous names, we get sent infamous men who missed their target a few too many times! Our funding barely covers maintenance to the ship- oh, the ship! Early days? Crew had a battleship! Now? A caravel! A blast damned caravel! An old one, even! About four hundred years ago, they 'reassigned' the privileges to the big ships, and every few generations of captain they swap the privilege to allow something smaller, more worn."
Grasping in vain for the edge of the pool, the Overlord glared at the stubbornly distant water.
"Where was I… ah! Modernized stuff. See, the Marines are a peculiar bunch," Leaning forward, the captain kept one boot on the man's back. "No matter how many riflemen they have shooting, it just doesn't seem to work on the more famous vagabonds. It's amazing how inaccurate a man can be- and when they actually do manage to hit their target? More often than not, there's some Devil Fruit ability that protects the buggers. See, not long ago, someone finally got it into their mind, 'hey! Maybe we could at least eliminate the Devil Fruit invulnerability factor!' and funded attempts to cut Seastone –the only thing that neutralizes Fruits, other than water and elemental shenanigans- into bullets. Now, this would have made everything easier if Seastone wasn't a really freaking dense material."
Tapping one gauntleted finger against the ground with impatience, Steve waited for the guy to finish talking and move his boot.
"They slowly, slowly produced bullets of Seastone- but then they had to test them, and as you can probably imagine not many Fruit users volunteered to be shot. So, after many hundreds of years of making us the laughingstock of the fleet, they noticed that my unit had at least one perk: we had made some damned good marksmen out of the poor excuses they'd sent us. Kind of had to do something productive, we've had to fish using our guns since they revoked our fishing rod budget, and it's amazing how good your aim can become when your dinner depends on it. Anyway, after a bit of crafty negotiating, I got everybody in my crew a bag of a few Anti-Devil Fruit rounds- and I honestly thought they'd be used against a Fruit user. But, lo, you're an even bigger threat and it's even on my contract that a Jujuer has higher priority than pirates! It was an invigorating experience, learning of your presence."
"I can imagine." Catching a glimpse of what caused the earlier light flicker, Steve tried to distract the man who held him down."I'm wondering, was your life ever flipped or turned upside down?"
Catching a hint of mockery from the tone, Vonvarr jabbed the man through a shoulder with his anti-magic knife onna gun.
As soon as Sanji opened the door, a bullet lit his cigarette and put a hole bigger than his thumb through the wall.
Not waiting to see where it came from, he slammed the door to the women's quarters shut and jumped over the railing to get to the lower deck, where he presumed the swordsman had gone.
Where the swordsman had gone and apparently gotten injured, as it seems. Most jarring was the fact that his swords weren't in his hands- the wound was bad enough for the convincingly indestructible man to drop his weapons.
Knowing that things had gotten real, Sanji changed his descent into an attack towards the nearest Marine.
As the chef dodged bullets and kicked people in the face, other members of the crew began to stir at the yells and gunfire. Once things began to compute, they figured out that the yells were coming from unfamiliar persons and began to stir with elevated alacrity.
They hadn't the foggiest of clues as to the events transpiring, barging through the doors from where they had previously been unconscious. Unfortunately for them, the sudden appearance of the black-suited individual had made the Marine gunners somewhat trigger-happy.
With another vain attempt to rise from the ground, Steve remained firmly planted to the floor under the boot of the Marine captain.
"No, you aren't going anywhere, you massacring scum- actually, 'scum' gives you a bit of credit… what's lower than scum, I wonder? Barnacles? Sewage? Ah, I got it! Tax collectors. Yes, that seems about right. You're a massacring tax collector, you know that?"
Deciding that the Marine was a bit more delirious than previously estimated, Steve put a large amount of his remaining strength into a single push to rise.
His effort worked, and Vonvarr was thrown off balance and backwards a small distance. Catching its cue, the light flared into solid existence from around a corner of gold, revealing itself to be a crystal imbedded into the pauldron of a suit of armor.
As the other set of armor shoulder-slammed his former repressor, the now free-to-move Overlord pulled himself forward and thrust one hand into the slightly sparkling water.
Almost immediately, this took its toll; large volumes of pent magic were absorbed by the Arcanium, and this meant active mana flow- which also meant that the damages made themselves abundantly obvious once more. Doing his best not to lose his focus amidst the spasms and power, Steve put the overflow of magic to use.
Unfortunately for the Dark Tower, a massive directed burst of magic slammed into its core from out of nowhere. Had it come from any direction, the recently installed Magiflectors would have diverted it towards the halfling residential areas and two problems would be dealt with- however, the Magiflectors weren't designed with trans-dimensional assaults in mind.
As the water from the Tower Heart's pool blasted into the bottom of the domed ceiling and the Tower Heart ricocheted around the throne room while glowing a very bright silvery blue color, Gnarl did his best to shuffle towards Giblet while yelling at the top of his decrepit lungs.
"Why in the bloody hell is the Tower Heart flying around the room, you pathetic excuse even by Minion standards?"
"Giblet not know! Massive incoming magical burst! Seems unfocused for attack!"
Hiding behind the Forge Master, the elderly Minion yelled into his ear. "Maybe it's an incoming communication?"
The younger Minion paused, then began nodding enthusiastically. "Yes! Maybe, but too much inbound magic to convert into communication!"
"Try channeling the extra magic into the Intimidator!"
With another nod, Giblet turned back to the jury-rigged control pedestal and moved his hands rapidly across its several dials and switches, ending on the yanking of a lever.
Far above the throne room, the spires of the Dark Tower began to shudder gently as the rest of the structure ceased its tremors. Gradually, the top of the Tower began to glow; after several seconds, a black beam of magic blasted into the sky, swirling and darkening the clouds. Lightning lanced across the atmosphere and thunder rumbled as the deformation of nature made itself visible over a span of hundreds of miles, terrifying the bejeezus out of anything that could comprehend fear.
"It stable now!"
Grinning, the older Minion gave the servants a thumbs-up. "Ladies, poker time!"
Across the room, the servants nudged the somewhat stabilized Tower Heart back towards its pool with their assorted lengths of fire-stokers and then whacked it downwards back into its puddle.
"-to the great blackened Abyss, Gnarl, if you don't answer the damned-"
"Master! It's, uh, good to hear from you again, even though it sounds like you're condemning me to-"
"Getting video?"
"No, sire, it just looks like the normal poo-" At this point, Gnarl realized that there were several Tower Heart-like objects in the water, and that the Overlord's gauntlet was visible in one corner. "… T-T-T…"
"Tower Hearts. Many. Draw off them?"
"It, uh, will require a piece of the original- in this case, likely several pieces, like a ring of many jewels or a crystal composed of several slightly different pieces. S-Sire, do have an idea of where you are?"
"Old and underwater, called 'Black Fortress'. How big a crystal?" The image shifted as the Master looked around the room, revealing large piles of gold and other items of high value.
"Probably about half the size of your fist." Gnarl struggled to contain his glee, the urgency conveyed from his Master's tone keeping him level. "Sire, you don't sound like you're in good-"
"Hole through chest. Many sword wounds. Armor's wrecked." The image jolted. "A bit twitchy. Recharge repair scroll?"
"Um. Sire, are you in a hurry to have it recharged?"
"Quickly would be nice."
"Then, the scroll probably isn't your best bet."
The Master was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his tone gave the impression he knew he was going to regret asking the question. "Why?"
"Well, sire, you see, the wizard who designed the repair scrolls… he…"
"How, Gnarl."
"Uh, to recharge the scroll, sire, you'll need… a cleavage."
"… What."
"The more buxom a woman the better, sire, but if you're in a hurry then-"
Abruptly, the image shivered and left Gnarl looking down towards the single Tower Heart in its pool.
Standing a few feet away, Giblet fiddled with the levers to no avail. "Line severed by Master, it no longer linking."
"He probably blocked the signal." Sighing softly, Gnarl looked to the skies that slowed their swirls and darkening.
Muttering gratuitously, the Wench Bane withdrew his arm from the pool and glanced around the piles of treasure. From behind came the sounds of a fight as the suit of armor clumsily evaded the swings of the Marine's bayonet, each swish driving Steve to search just a little bit faster.
Skimming over the mounds, he almost stopped looking- but then he caught sight of what he sought, a shining gem of many colors. It sat alongside the pool, placed slightly away from the piles of treasure and atop a book.
Dragging himself over to it, the Infernal Majesty did his best not to let his injuries slow him- but they were many and his blood was seeping. The closer he got to the crystal the worse his vision and strength became, the less driving the commotion of combat and fading adrenaline pushed him.
After a length of time seemingly equivalent to living through Minion Poetry Day, the Great and Mighty Overlord reached for the multicolored gem, his vision half black and his arm shaking and drooping.
As soon as he touched the gem, his weariness vanished faster than a Green during Bath Week.
Clutching his prize in a death grip, Steve forced himself to endure the flood of mana that slammed into his already loaded reserves. Feeling a sudden sympathy for those who got struck by lightning, his chest burned in pain as Health Regeneration went into a state of suicide overload, working faster than it could maintain stability. The Arcanium armor couldn't even spasm, the power was so tremendous.
Feeling refreshed yet exhausted at the same time, the literally glowing Overlord rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet, crystal in hand. Not far away, the fight between the armor and Vonvarr was slowly experiencing a tipping of the scales as the Marine grew more accustomed to fighting with a bayonet, chipping pieces off his opponent.
Taking a wild guess, the Leader of the Fire Starters clutched the crystal in his right hand and held his left over his more bland gauntlet, preparing a Flamethrower against his own right wrist.
Thoroughly wishing he'd bought the anti-convection upgrade, the Peasant Pyromaniac endured his second hand-toasting that day.
Aboard the grass deck of the Sunny, some might have wished they'd stayed asleep.
Near the middle knelt the swordsman, his blades dropped and his hands attempting to slow the bleeding from several sizable holes in his chest, still attempting to rise despite his physical incapability to do so. Several feet away, a chef clutched at his legs, bleeding considerably from one too many Marines who had used their toned reflexes and swords to block.
Outside the door to the men's quarters, a rather terrified long-nosed individual knelt next to an unconscious blue-nosed… thing, his panic directed more at his injured comrade than his own wounded body. Near that pair and the Marines stood a rather confused shipwright, whose normally bulletproof front found itself sporting a few holes.
Standing in the doorway was a tall skeleton whose shocked stutters about his brain unable to comprehend things despite his not having a brain at all confused the Marines who held him immobilized at sword-point.
On an upper deck, a black-haired and vested individual stared in a barely comprehensive shock at his crewmates, any possible counterattack quelled by every Marine who held a weapon pointed at his friends.
Eerily silent after the storms of gunfire and yelling, the Thousand Sunny bore only the sounds of the injured and a faint "Y-yohoho…"
(A/N)
... I'm noticing a pattern here.
In case anyone was wondering: the way I figure it, the Tower Hearts are like a kind of (magic) generator. While the liquid containing them normally wouldn't contain much runoff, the treasure room's pool holds many hundred years' worth of slowly leaked mana from several very potent "generators".
And yes. The Sea Stone bullets are, quite basically, armor piercing and anti-Devil Fruit.
(End A/N)