Chapter 73
20th of April 1522
As the island of Dressrosa came into view, Tsuru sighed, the weight of her responsibilities pressing down on her. She longed to be at Marineford, fighting alongside her friends Garp and Sengoku in the brutal war. But shielding Luffy from the knowledge of Ace's imminent execution took precedence. If Luffy found out, he would undoubtedly try to rescue his brother, risking his own life and potentially opposing the Marines. Worse, if Dragon, Luffy's father, decided to intervene if his son was in danger, the conflict could escalate beyond control.
They docked at the port, and Dressrosa's bustling city unfolded before them in a riot of colors and sounds. Tsuru watched Luffy with a soft, proud smile as he eagerly leaped onto the land. His boundless energy was infectious, and she couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.
"It's just a routine patrol," she told him, concealing the true gravity of their mission. "Stay close, Luffy. We have a lot of ground to cover."
Luffy nodded eagerly, his straw hat bouncing with each step as he followed her into the heart of the city to, "find bad guys and beat them up". Tsuru's heart ached with the truth she was keeping from him, but she remained resolute. For now, her duty was to guide and protect him, ensuring his bright future within the Marines—a future that could potentially see him rise to the rank of Admiral. She would shield him from the dark realities of the world, if only for a little while longer.
Moria stood amidst the carnage, his grotesque figure casting a dark silhouette against the icy battlefield. The acrid scent of blood and gunpowder mingled with the anguished cries of the dying, creating a macabre symphony. His maniacal grin stretched wider as he watched the chaos unfold, savoring the destruction. Suddenly, a figure broke through the haze of battle, charging towards him with deadly intent. Vista, his eyes burning with fury and resolve, hurled himself at Moria, his twin swords gleaming with Haki.
"Die, you monster!" Vista roared, his swords slicing through the air with lethal precision. The blades aimed for Moria's neck, promising a swift beheading. But Moria's laughter cut through the din, a chilling sound that echoed across the battlefield. With a flick of his wrist, he deflected the attack, his rapier meeting Vista's swords in a shower of sparks. "Kishishishi! You think you can kill me that easily?" Moria taunted, his eyes gleaming with malice.
[Vista]
Class : Pirate
Job : Whitebeard's 5th division Commander
Dourikis : 11 891
Potential : SS
Fate : A
"You'll pay for killing my comrades," Vista growled, his voice thick with grief and rage. He pressed his attack, his movements a blur of deadly grace. Each strike was fueled by the memory of fallen friends, their blood staining the frozen ground. But Moria was relentless, his monstrous form shifting and twisting with unnatural agility. His rapier parried each blow, the dark energy crackling around him growing stronger with every clash.
"You think you're avenging them?" Moria sneered. "They were weak, just like you."
Vista roared in fury, his strikes coming faster, each blow a testament to his skill and determination. His twin swords danced in the air, a whirlwind of steel aimed at ending Moria's reign of terror. But Moria laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed through the battlefield. His grotesque form twisted and contorted, dodging and deflecting Vista's attacks with unnatural ease. Each parry was accompanied by a burst of dark energy that seemed to grow stronger, feeding off the chaos around them.
Vista's face was a mask of concentration and rage, his eyes never leaving Moria's twisted visage. "For Whitebeard!" he shouted, lunging forward with a powerful thrust. Moria sidestepped, his rapier flicking out to slice across Vista's arm. Blood sprayed, but Vista barely flinched, his resolve unshaken.
"Pathetic," Moria taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Your friends died like dogs, and so will you."
The fight intensified, each clash of their weapons sending shockwaves through the air. Vista's strikes were precise, his movements a deadly ballet, but Moria's monstrous agility and dark powers made him a formidable opponent. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered, the very air around them humming with the ferocity of their battle. Vista's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles straining with the effort of each attack. But he refused to back down, his spirit unyielding.
Moria's laughter grew more frenzied as he began to overpower Vista. With a savage slash, he disarmed the swordsman, sending one of his blades flying through the air. Vista's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly recovered, gripping his remaining sword with both hands. The defiance in his gaze only fueled Moria's sadistic glee.
"You'll join your comrades soon," Moria hissed, his grin widening as he lunged forward. Vista parried desperately, but Moria's strength was overwhelming. With a brutal strike, Moria sent Vista's last sword clattering to the ground. Vista staggered back, defenseless and exhausted.
Moria moved in for the kill, his rapier a blur of dark energy. He plunged the blade into Vista's chest, the steel slicing through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc, staining Moria's pale skin. Vista gasped, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Moria twisted the blade, savoring the agony in Vista's eyes before yanking it free. Vista crumpled to the ground, his life ebbing away. Moria's maniacal laughter echoed across the battlefield, his eyes gleaming with malevolent triumph. "Kishishishi! Die knowing you accomplished nothing," he spat, bending down to absorb Vista's shadow, the dark energy merging with his own.
Kill three Whitebeard Pirates with a Fate of A or higher : 0/3 → 1/3
Congratulation ! You absorbed enough high-level Shadows !
Potential : SS → SSS
Dourikis Cap : 16 000 → 32 000
"Kishishishishi!"
[Gecko Moria]
Class: Duke of Twilight
Job: Warlord of the Seas
Fruit: Kage Kage no Mi
Dourikis: 17,516/32,000
Potential: SS
Fate: SS
Physique : 6,301
Will : 4,791
Soul : 6,424
20th of April
Thriller Bark
Absalom stood at the helm, his towering, muscular form casting a formidable shadow. The room thrummed with the sound of mechanical whirrs and the soft hum of monitors displaying feeds from every corner of the island.
Thick cables snaked across the floor, connecting to rusted, ornate consoles that seamlessly blended gothic architecture with steampunk design. Brass gears and hidden weaponries were visible through glass panels, their ceaseless motion a testament to the ship's concealed might. Absalom's wild hair framed his beastly features, his eyes darting from screen to screen, each one showing a different part of the island. H
His rugged hands gripped the control levers, knuckles white with tension. He had used the largest screen of Thriller Bark's control room to display the feed from Marineford unfolded like an epic saga. The air was thick with the weight of destiny as the fierce battle raged. Absalom's breath hitched as he watched his master, Lord Moria, engage in a brutal duel with Donquixote Doflamingo. Every swing of Moria's massive blades, every shadow manipulated, sent a surge of adrenaline through Absalom's veins.
"Come on, Lord Moria," he muttered, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Show them your might."
The fight was relentless, the stakes astronomical. As Moria finally landed a decisive blow, sending Doflamingo to hell, Absalom let out a triumphant roar.
"Yeah", he screamed. The victory was a testament to his master's strength and cunning, a beacon of hope in the storm of chaos surrounding them.
But then, the jubilant moment shattered. A shrill alarm pierced the air, emanating from one of the smaller monitors. Absalom's heart skipped a beat, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the source of the disturbance. The monitor displayed a ship, its flag unmistakable—the jolly roger of Doflamingo flapping defiantly in the wind.
A wave of conflicting emotions crashed over Absalom. Stress gnawed at his resolve, a reminder that most of their fighters were gone to Dressrosa - the ship being here meaning they were sure of their Victory. Yet, amidst the anxiety, a spark of eager determination ignited within him. This was his moment to prove his worth, to show that he could defend Thriller Bark in their hour of need.
He squared his shoulders, his beastly visage hardening into a mask of resolve. Absalom moved swiftly, his hands dancing across the control panel, activating the island's defenses. Mechanical groans echoed through the room as hidden weaponries emerged, cogs turning and gears grinding, ready for the impending confrontation.
He watched the ship draw closer, a silent promise of battle in its wake. Absalom's breath came in steady, controlled bursts. This was what he was made for, the purpose he had trained for relentlessly.
With a final glance at the screen, where Moria's victory at Marineford continued to replay in a loop, Absalom steeled himself. He was not just a mere enforcer; he was the guardian of Thriller Bark. And he would ensure that any who dared approach would be met with the full wrath of its defenses.
"Let them come," he growled, a fierce grin spreading across his face. "I'll show them what it means to challenge us."
As the warboat breached the perimeter, Absalom's hands moved with purpose, initiating the first wave of defense.
In the castle's meanders, a discharge awakened the debilitated Enel, the ancient god of Skypeia.
20th of April 1522
Marineford
Marco screamed in rage, his voice a raw, primal sound that cut through the din of battle. "Moria! You'll pay for this!" he bellowed, abandoning his fight with Whitebeard to rush toward Moria, his wings flaring with blue flames. But before he could reach his target, a beam of light struck him from behind. Kizaru, with his usual infuriating nonchalance, appeared in Marco's path. "Now, now, Marco. You know better than to ignore me," Kizaru drawled, engaging him with a flurry of laser-like attacks.
Whitebeard, seeing Marco's distress, roared with fury. "Enough!" His voice boomed like thunder, and he raised his massive Naginata, slamming it into the ground with earth-shattering force. The impact sent a colossal shockwave rippling across the battlefield, causing weaker fighters and Marines to collapse unconscious. The air crackled with the intensity of Whitebeard's power, and even seasoned warriors found themselves sweating under the old man's oppressive presence.
[Edward Newgate]
Class : Pirate Emperor
Job : The Strongest Man in the World
Fruit : Gura Gura no Mi
Dourikis : 49 587
Potential : EX
Fate : SSS
(Sick Debuff, -30% to all stats)
The mighty Whitebeard then leaped from his ship, his massive frame landing heavily on the ground with a thunderous crash. The battlefield seemed to tremble at his arrival. Moria, witnessing the spectacle, felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. "Is he coming for me?" Moria muttered, fear gripping his heart.
With a powerful swipe of his Naginata, Whitebeard cut down three Vice Admirals in one fell swoop, their bodies crumpling to the ground like broken dolls. "This is for my sons!" Whitebeard's voice was a growl of pure fury. The sheer force of his attack left no doubt about his overwhelming strength. In the midst of the chaos, Moria spotted a random pirate affiliate named Squard, who had a high fate for his level.
Without hesitation, Moria plunged his rapier into Squard's chest. "I need your shadow more than you need your life," Moria sneered, absorbing his shadow and cutting short his promising destiny. Blood sprayed, and Squard's eyes widened in shock.
"Whitebeard, save me—" Squard's plea was cut off as Moria twisted the blade, ensuring his demise.
"Fuck," Moria swore under his breath, his eyes darting back to Whitebeard. The legendary pirate's wrath was palpable, and Moria knew he was not out of danger yet.
"Prepare yourself, Moria!" Whitebeard roared, his gaze locking onto the warlord. "Today, you pay for your sins!"
Moria laughed nervously, his bravado faltering. "Kishishishi... come then, Whitebeard. Let's see if you can kill me before I take more of your precious sons." His voice trembled slightly, betraying the fear he felt deep inside.