Chapter 37


28th March 1522
Marineford

Gecko Moria emerged from the shadows, his towering form materializing in a secluded crevice within Marineford. The heart of Marineford was not a place many dared to intrude upon, notably if you were a seven-meter tall, half a ton heavy man that was not very discreet.

[Gecko Moria]

Class: Marquis of Dusk
Job: Warlord of the Seas
Fruit: Kage Kage no Mi

Dourikis: 6,121/8,000
Potential: S
Fate: S

Moria had been meticulous in his preparations. He had hidden numerous Shadow Warriors – primarily shadow servants, as anything more potent required too many souls – in strategic locations. This particular shadow had been planted within Smoker, a maneuver executed deftly in the Blues. The shadow had remained dormant, biding its time until Smoker's arrival at Marineford, where it had discreetly detached and hidden itself away.

Seconds later, the rapid footsteps of two Vice Admirals echoed through the narrow passageway. They appeared swiftly, their faces a mix of shock and fury. The alarm in their eyes was palpable; sensing Moria's sudden presence in such a heavily fortified area must have set their Haki ablaze with urgency.

Moria's smirk widened. The sheer panic he had induced was almost palpable. "Well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "It seems I've caused quite a stir."

"How did you get here?" one of the Vice Admirals demanded, his voice tight with tension.

Moria's eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "I believe the question isn't how, but why," he replied, his tone nonchalant. "I was convoked, after all. Surely you wouldn't deny a Warlord's compliance with a summons?"

One of them looked like he wanted to kill him. Which he probably was.

"This way," the other finally said, his voice clipped.

They moved through Marineford, and Moria drew many looks. Some marines stared because they remembered the bloated figure he used to be; now, he was a lean, lithe seven-meter tall giant with pale skin and a monstrous face. Others gawked because his face was the old one, his true visage, not the image they had seen in the newspapers. The incongruity was striking.

As they traversed a corridor, the atmosphere grew tense. Marines whispered and pointed, the air thick with suspicion and hostility. They rounded a corner, and there stood Garp the Fist, his expression thunderous. He barely contained his fury as he approached, his massive fist clenched.

[Monkey D. Garp]

Class: Marine
Job: Hero of the Marine

Dourikis: 28 252
Potential: SSS
Fate: SSS

While walking past him, Garp shoved Moria with his shoulder. Hard. The force was immense, sending the Warlord tumbling backward. Moria knew it was deliberate. This fucker. He righted himself, glaring daggers at Garp, who had already walked away without a backward glance. Finally, they arrived at a large, imposing door. Moria paused, feeling the powerful signatures beyond. Sengoku's presence was unmistakable, along with several Captain-level Marines, Tsuru, and... four Warlord-level signatures?

The door opened, and Moria stepped inside. Sengoku stood at the head of a long table, his expression severe. Tsuru sat calmly, her gaze piercing. Around the table were three familiar figures.

[Sengoku]

Class: Marine
Job: Fleet Admiral
Fruit: Hito Hito no Mi, Model: Daibutsu

Dourikis: 34 673
Potential: SSS
Fate: S

Holy shit.

[Tsuru]

Class: Marine
Job: Vice Admiral
Fruit : Woshu Woshu no Mi

Dourikis: 12 762
Potential: SS
Fate: A

Dracule Mihawk lounged with an air of detached superiority. His sharp, hawk-like eyes, framed by dark, bushy eyebrows, seemed to pierce through anyone who met his gaze. He nodded at Moria, surprising everyone. Beside Mihawk was Bartholomew Kuma, a towering, hulking figure. His immense frame was clad in a long, dark coat, and his face was obscured by his signature hat and sunglasses. Sitting near them was Donquixote Doflamingo, in his arrogant flamboyance. The fucker who helped Kaido. His bright pink feathered coat was a stark contrast to the seriousness of the room.

[Dracule Mihawk]

Class: Swordsman
Job: Warlord of the Seas

Douriki: 17,256
Potential: SS
Fate: S

[Bartholomew Kuma]

Class: Cyborg (22%) - Buccaneer
Job: Warlord of the Seas

Douriki: 12,766
Potential: SS
Fate: A

[Donquixotte Doflamingo]

Class: Fallen World Noble
Job: Warlord of the Seas, Dressrosa King

Douriki: 10,984
Potential: SS
Fate: S*

Then there was Blackbeard, the source of the boisterous laugh. "ZEHAHAHAHAHA! So, you're Moria, huh?" His wild mane of black hair framed a face marked by a perpetual grin and gleaming white teeth. Blackbeard's large, imposing frame was adorned with a captain's coat draped over his shoulders, and his presence exuded a chaotic energy that was both unsettling and captivating.

[̸͝ͅM̷̧̈́à̶̜r̴̢̿s̸͂ͅh̶̲͋ǎ̸ͅl̷̟̾l̸͓̿ ̸̢̅D̸̨̉.̶̼͛ ̶͈̀Ṭ̸͋e̴̠̊á̵̬c̶̢͊h̵̻͊]̵̗̃
̷̰̚
C̷l̵a̷s̶s̷:̴ ̵[̸E̸r̴r̸o̴r̴!̷C̴a̵n̵n̷o̷t̵ ̷D̵I̷s̸p̷l̵a̶y̵X̶E̸B̶e̸c̸!̸3̶i̴!̸S̶a̸m̴e̸̵T̴i̵m̵s̷j̵n̸∏̶
̷J̵o̵b̶:̷[̵E̷r̴r̴o̶r̸!̷C̵a̴n̵n̵o̷t̶ ̸D̶I̵s̴p̶l̸a̷y̴I̵m̶u̸)̸P̷l̷u̸t̸on?R̴O̶ck̵k̸,̵z̸c̷!̴3̸i̵!̵S̸a̸m̷e̵̷T̸i̶m̸s̶j̸n̵∏̸
̴
F̶̦͒r̷̝͂u̶̯͗i̷̹̅t̵̩̃,̷̢̂ ̶̙̈s̴̫̔ḷ̴̎o̸͉͐ṱ̶̒ ̵̜̕1̸̖̓ ̸̬̀:̶̱̐ ̶̻̋I̶͉̅ṉ̶̀ǘ̶̪-̶̭̀Ĩ̴̖n̷̥̓u̴̥͝ ̸͗ͅN̸̙̏ó̶̦ ̷͖̈́M̵̗͘i̸̝̊,̵̎ͅ ̵̺͠M̷͉͝o̷̤̓d̵̡͒ẹ̴̃l̶͖͆:̴̘͋ ̵̱͂C̶̛̙ḙ̵̾r̷͙̈b̴̥̆ë̴̢r̸̻̓u̷̗̕s̶̻̈ ̴̭͂o̵̺̅f̶͎͛ ̸͍̾t̶̨̒h̴̬̎e̷̗̿ ̷̲̑Ă̵̤b̷͙̒y̸̭͊s̵̺̽s̷͕͘
̵̤̀F̶͗͜r̸̅ͅu̸̕ͅi̷̞͌t̸̩͗,̴̰͌ ̴̧͘s̷̖͝l̶̯̐o̶̠̎t̴̹̚ ̵̱͌3̶͉̆ ̸̝͝:̷̙̍ ̶̦̈́E̷͔̎m̶̠͗p̸͈͠t̶̛̻ÿ̶̙
̴͇̃
Douriki: 3,988/17,765/?
Potential: EX
Fate: SSS

Moria froze, a rare moment of genuine shock paralyzing him. What. The. Fuck.

The room fell into a charged silence. Mihawk and Tsuru studied him intently, having sensed that he was much stronger now than the last time they saw him. Doflamingo and Sengoku, however, focused on the way he had frozen upon seeing Blackbeard.

"Do you two know each other?" Sengoku asked.

After a brief, loaded silence, Moria answered, "No."

He forced himself to move, his steps heavy as he approached one of the massive chairs. Lowering his frame into the seat, he could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. His mind raced, but he willed himself to focus on the meeting.

Sengoku cleared his throat. "First, let me introduce Blackbeard as the new Warlord."

A ripple of surprise spread through the room. Sengoku continued, "Two Warlords have died recently, and we need suggestions for their replacements. Blackbeard have filled one slot…But we need one more."

Kuma spoke first, his deep voice steady. "I propose Don Chinjao. He has the necessary reputation…"

Doflamingo leaned forward, his fingers steepled in contemplation. "Selena Whitefang would be a suitable choice. She's formidable and has been making quite a name for herself, and she is weak enough to be easily controlled."

Sengoku shook his head. "No. Selena Whitefang is reportedly a subordinate of Moria."

Doflamingo's eyes widened briefly before a sly smile curled his lips. "Oh?" he drawled, casting a curious glance at Moria. A brief exchange of bickering followed, but Moria remained silent, too shaken by Blackbeard's presence to engage.

Sengoku sighed, rubbing his temples. "Let's move to the second part of this meeting, the most critical part."

"Blackbeard is a Warlord because he captured Firefist Ace."

Doflamingo's smirk vanished, replaced by genuine surprise. Mihawk's interest sharpened, his hawk-like eyes narrowing in focus.

Sengoku continued, his voice like a hammer striking an anvil. "In a four days, the world will know. Ace will be executed in precisely one month. Whitebeard will undoubtedly mount a rescue. We are summoning you, the Warlords, to prepare for the war."

He adjusted his glasses, his gaze as cold and unyielding as steel. "You are ordered to be there. If you fail to comply, Kizaru will personally hunt you after the war. Be there in twenty-eight days."

A profound silence fell over the room, the enormity of Sengoku's words settling like a heavy shroud.

"Zehahahahaha!" Blackbeard's laugh exploded into the stillness, a dark, booming sound that reverberated off the walls, shattering the silence.

Moria was beyond fucked. He had to get stronger the soonest possible. Finish his quests. Not to go to war with Whitebeard, but to be able to flee from Kizaru.


28th March 1522
Amazon Lily

Boa Hancock felt a sudden cough escape her lips. It was strange; in all her life, she had never experienced illness before. Marigold, her sister, looked at her with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Of course," Hancock replied, unaware of the faint trace of blood on her fingertips.


28th March 1522
Thriller Bark.

Gecko Moria was back at Thriller Bark, his footsteps echoing ominously through the cavernous throne room. He paced relentlessly, each step a percussion of frustration and contemplation. The situation was dire, a prelude to the chaos of war that would soon sweep across the seas, leaving a wake of the dead. For Moria, a war meant opportunity—an abundance of corpses ripe for his power to command. Admirals and Emperors would fall, and their strength could be his. He stopped pacing, a sinister grin creeping across his face. It was not by staying hidden that he would become strong enough to defeat Kaido.

But still. Fuck.

The massive double doors creaked open, spilling an eerie, flickering light into the throne room. Nami entered, her presence unsettlingly serene and tinged with a twisted delight. At her feet, crawling in abject humiliation and forced obedience, was Monet. Naked and leashed like a prized pet, her long, green hair cascaded over her shoulders, partly obscuring her downcast face. Her wings trailed behind her, and her taloned feet clicked softly against the cold floor.

Moria's eyes widened in surprise and a hint of repulsion as he took in the scene. Nami had always been a bit unhinged, but this was a new depth. Nami really had a problem in the head, he thought, amused.

"Ullo, Moria," Nami greeted with a saccharine smile, her voice laced with an unnerving edge. She yanked Monet's leash, forcing the transformed woman to sit up and meet Moria's gaze. "I've got great news!"

Moria raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued despite himself. "Go on," he urged, his voice a low rumble in the cavernous space.

Nami's grin widened, her eyes gleaming with manic delight. "We have the location of the SMILEs factory, and even better," she paused, savoring the moment, "I learned about Sugar, Monet's little sister. She's a special officer of the Donquixote Pirates' Trebol Army. Her Hobi Hobi no Mi powers turn dissenters into toys, keeping Dressrosa in line. So if we…", Nami started spilling everything she had learnt from…talking with Monet.

Moria's eyes listened with interest as he listened to her plan. But he sighed, a note of impatience in his voice. "This is... fascinating, but it will have to wait until after my wedding."

Nami nodded, her expression still eager and disturbingly enthusiastic. She directed Monet to face Moria. "Remember his scent," she commanded softly, her tone dripping with a twisted, almost loving affection. "He is your new master now."

Monet, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and reluctant obedience, threw herself at Moria's feet in a gesture of desperate submission. Her body trembled, her wings fluttering helplessly as she pressed her face against his boots, as if trying to imprint his very essence into her memory. Moria stared down at her, the flicker of confusion replaced by a growing pleasure. "What the fuck?" he murmured, barely audible, as he processed the bizarre and unsettling turn his day had taken. He felt a dark satisfaction. Nami's actions, as twisted as they were, proved her worth. She truly fit well in his monstrous crew, her depravity and cunning adding to the nightmarish family he was building. He smiled, pleased by the new addition and the depths to which Nami would sink to serve him.

Main Quest [A Court, a Kingdom and a Champion]

[A Court] : 8/10 → 9/10


29th March 1522
Alabasta

Vivi's heart pounded in her chest. Tomorrow, she was to be wed. Tomorrow, she would be Gecko Moria's wife. His Wife! The reality of it all seemed both surreal and daunting, yet laced with a strange, intoxicating excitement. Her thoughts were a tempest as her maids worked meticulously, their deft fingers arranging the intricate layers of her wedding attire.

She was thinking about Gecko Moria. She was marrying him to save her country from Crocodile's clutches, a sacrifice she had willingly embraced. They had been no news of Crocodile for a few days…he was probably preparing for something bad! Yet, she couldn't deny the allure Moria held—his mysterious nature, his commanding presence, and, she reddened at the thought, his undeniable masculinity. She had seen his picture form "before", on his bounty poster…but she did not believe for one moment it had been him! And handsomeness. And that kiss, it had been…Ah! Even if she knew it was a political marriage and that they would not see each other that much, maybe even less than once a week…

"Princess, we are finished with the first proposition for the wedding dress," one of the maids announced softly, her voice filled with reverent admiration.

Vivi took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and was about to turn to face the mirror when one of the maids, a mischievous glint in her eye, snickered softly.

"Gecko Moria is going to be a very happy man…And he seems to be quite the vigorous one. You have to get a lot of sleep tonight, Princess!"

Vivi's cheeks flushed a deeper shade of crimson, her heart skipping a beat. She averted her gaze, trying to regain her composure. She forced herself to look back at the mirror.

As her eyes met her reflection, she felt a rush of astonishment. The figure before her was almost unrecognizable. Her long, azure hair was intricately braided and adorned with delicate golden chains and small, sparkling jewels that caught the light. Her eyes, deep and expressive, were accentuated with subtle, kohl-lined artistry. Her wedding attire was a traditional Alabastan robe, an opulent blend of deep blues and rich golds. The luxurious fabric was embroidered with intricate patterns that spoke of the kingdom's rich cultural heritage. The robe's neckline dipped provocatively, revealing just enough of her décolletage to entice, while the fitted bodice hugged her slender waist and accentuated the sensual swell of her hips.

Her belly was visible, the toned muscles from her time as Miss Wednesday creating a perfect canvas for the jewels that adorned her navel. The sleeves were long and flowing, adorned with delicate golden filigree. The skirt, though modest in its coverage, was designed with slits that allowed glimpses of her long, toned legs, muscled from her countless adventures, as she moved.

For a moment, Vivi allowed herself to smile, a flicker of confidence igniting within her. She was doing this for Alabasta, but she was also stepping into a new chapter of her life. As she prepared to meet her future with Gecko Moria, she couldn't help but feel a thrilling anticipation. Tomorrow, she would be his, and the thought of the passion and desire that awaited made her pulse quicken.


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