[God Valley, West Blue]
The island was small and situated in the Outer Sea of West Blue. It had tall, steep clouds and canyons covered with vegetation. Between the central two tall peaks was a small city, once home to a thriving population, now in shambles.
The Celestial Dragons had always seen this land as their own—it was the Cradle of the Gods, after all!
The citizens were descendants of the slaves owned by the original King, Amas-Rothua Tnaryt. They were allowed to live here by his grace, but that didn't mean they would be treated well by other World Nobles.
[God Valley Image (in Discord)]
The might of the World Government had been exercised to ensure the protection of this divine occasion, overseen by the Fleet Admiral and the Chief of Cipher Pol.
"This is Xerxes," a hoarse voice echoed through hundreds of transponder snails. "All agents are advised to be on the lookout for any enemy ships. Continue your mission with absolute success."
As of now, dozens of ships arrived at the coast of the sacred land, depositing entire groups of World Nobles. Already, 100 Celestial Dragons had arrived at the heart of God Valley, with a few more ships still arriving.
Such a gathering was essentially priceless to the World Government; they could not fail!
Meanwhile, giant ships slowly docked on the opposite side of the coast. They carried rare slaves, artifacts, weapons, treasures, and fine goods.
…
A towering man wearing a brown uniform stood with an oppressive shadow around him. His sole eye locked onto the marine reporting to him.
"Admiral Basara, everything is all set."
The Mountain Maker lowly hummed, breathing in the fresh air of God Valley. It was his duty to command 100,000 troops stationed here!
The soldiers filled the sidelines of the island, turning its previous green appearance into the white of sailor's clothing—the entirety of God Valley was strongly manned, invincible even!
…
[Two Hours Later]
A small squad of marines walked with a dignified spirit. They were tasked with escorting a caravan of mystical beasts collected across the seas.
The fact that they were allowed to step so deep into the Cradle of the Gods had left them breathless.
"Even looking at the castle from afar leaves me without words!" Rear Admiral Fod breathed. His eyes were twinkling from the golden majesty of what stood before him.
His companion, another Rear Admiral, was just as dazzled. "This is the palace where the First Twenty came to declare their descendants as Gods of the world! It's been standing for seven hundred years!"
Although they were only disallowed from entry, the two elite marines were endlessly humbled. The air they breathed was the same that canonized the World Nobles seven centuries ago!
The castle, an opulent masterpiece of architecture, stood majestically amidst the verdant hills of God Valley. Its golden façade shimmered under the sunlight, adorned with intricate carvings and large, sparkling gemstones embedded in its walls. Towering spires reached towards the sky, crowned with ornate domes gleaming with precious metals' brilliance.
The grand entrance, flanked by elegantly sculpted statues, welcomed visitors with a sweeping staircase leading into the heart of the palace. Surrounding manicured gardens, lush with greenery and carefully shaped hedges, added to the enchanting atmosphere, while distant cliffs loomed protectively over this regal abode, embodying a sense of both beauty and power in its design.
[Cradle of the Gods Image (in Discord)]
Thousands of Holy Guards stood tall every few steps. They were like robots; they didn't move or talk, and it seemed that they did not breathe either. They wore thick armour over their torsos that covered their faces and heads. Each held a spear.
[Holy Guards Image (in Discord)]
…
Dozens of Celestial Dragons continued through the halls and into the main seating area.
The ceilings were nearly fifty feet high! Giant golden chandeliers hung from above, emitting light that shone in tandem with the giant windows at the front.
Nearly 200 golden seats decorated the area, each plated with rare gems and minerals enough to buy small nations.
[Main Area (image)]
Name tags were embedded in each chair, reading the names of its designated host. Each of the 19 Houses was present. This included:
Donquixote Family.
Figardland Family.
Amas-Rohtua Family.
Marcus Family.
Ethanbaron Family.
Jaygarcia Family.
Shepherd Family.
Topman Family.
Nerona Family.
The other ten were also present, though they were lower-class than those mentioned earlier.
.
Soon enough, everyone was accounted for, and the host could begin. He looked around the sacred room and continued in a humble tone.
"Welcome, Saints and Saintesses. I am your humble servant, Spandune the Hunter, who has been granted the divine privilege to welcome you to God Valley!"
A few scoffs went off in the younger Nobles as they saw a mere human as their host, though they didn't voice any complaints. The biggest complaint was, "Why were they breathing the same air as this commoner?"
After all, none of them sported their usual fishbowl helmets, as God Valley was considered sacred.
.
The black-haired Spandune sheepishly smiled, trying his best to stay standing up.
He was one of the lucky ones who got the Five Elders' approval a few decades ago by bringing crucial intel on the now-ruined Polemos Island, a feat that would greatly ease the destruction of a treacherous people.
"I would also like to express my undying fidelity to the Noble who granted me the opportunity to stand before you—Saint Figarland Garling!"
Spandune widely directed his arms towards a sole person who sat not too far away.
The Noble was tall and enchanting, with sharp features and handsome. He wore burgundy regal attire topped with a coat that reached his shins. His hair was styled to resemble half a crescent moon.
Unlike the other Celestial Dragons, Garling had a mighty and illustrious aura around him, sharp as the prized saber at his hip, truly befitting a man with the blood of the Creators!
That, alongside his esteemed placement in the God's Knights, left him deeply respected, even among other World Nobles!
[Saint Figarland Garling Image (in Discord)]
.
Garling expressed no visible happiness and half-nodded at Spandune, something the latter took as a great honour.
"Ahem, well then, let us begin the glorious event in the Cradle of the Gods that has been held every century since the birth of the World Government 700 years ago today! By the blessed sun, it also fell on the same day as the Native Hunting Competition!"
"By the orders of the once-king Tnaryt, these mortals were allowed to care-take God Valley, but their identity of sub-human exists till this day!"
Upon the host's words, a company of waiters and servers rushed in from the side.
They held up incredibly delicious and mouthwatering meals made from the highest-quality food the world had to offer!
Meanwhile, the back doors opened to bring something else in.
"Do enjoy the Prime Slave Auction as you enjoy the delicacies!" Spandune explained, welcoming the guards with chains.
They slowly brought in the prized goods, lining them up.
Spandune rubbed his hands with a bright smile, doing his best to accommodate the Nobles' needs.
"Giants, Mermaids, Minks, Former Royals, Battle Maids, Veteran Pirates… everything you would want is present!" he exclaimed.
The Dragons oohed and aahed at the marvellous stock; some of the younger ones even pointed at the slaves they wanted, begging their parents.
One such Noble was a young woman with pink hair fanning out in the shape of a star. She wore a stylish outfit in mint green and white adorned with gold accents and featured a bold "L" on her chest.
"The slaves here are top notch quality…but the one I want is the most handsome of them all…I want Einar D. Damien!"
She was Donquixote Skymoor Roxia—an avid collector of slaves, particularly those of high status, either in virtue or infamy.
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The usually stoic woman bloomed a creepy smile, twiddling her gloved fingers. "He's earned the privilege to be my favourite, Kya-nanana! I can't wait to have him host my teacup parties!"
[Roxia image (in Discord)]
"Ahahaha! You are your weird fantasies, Roxia," a young man's voice cut the lady's imagination into pieces.
The pink-haired saintess glared at her fellow God.
He had white hair and hazel eyes covered by dark sunglasses. The man boasted a wide grin, showcasing his teeth. He was dressed in a white, unbuttoned shirt with a dark undershirt, conveying the man's casual yet somewhat flamboyant style.
"Amas-Rohtua Vadin!" Roxia snapped with crossed arms. "Don't you have better things to do than annoy me… Considering your habit of splurging your House's wealth!"
[Vadin Image (in Discord)]
Dozens of other gods laughed to themselves as well. This was their day—a sacred day where they could spend their wealth after being forced to stay at Mariejois due to the pirate threat.
It was music to the Spandune's ears as he slowly began listing the goods and their prices.
…
Meanwhile, in a different part of the island...
"What a damned event," came a suppressed voice.
A man with a giant afro sat in a large room that broadcasted the event. It was the Navy's temporary command room.
Sengoku massaged his forehead as he saw the auction going down. His justice clashed with it, though he could only relent to reality in favour of the vast majority.
However, a shaken snail diverted his attention: "Puru," "Puru," "Puru."
"Katcha~! This is Admiral Sengoku."
"It's me," Basara said as the snail took on the one-eyed Admiral's appearance. "We've lost contact with our Northern fleet; they all went offline together!"
"...I see."
A deep tremor disrupted their chat, leaving Sengoku with narrowed eyes.
The snail confirmed his guess: "They're here…the Rocks Pirates."
Meanwhile, a few Celestial Dragons were shouting to quiet the noise, hoping to enjoy their meal.
Sengoku ignored the three transponder snails linked to Cipher Pol as he felt another tremor.
Boom!
This time, it was loud enough to echo in the divine halls, disrupting the ceremony.
"I'll be right there, Basara."
…
*Rumble*
A dull sound bellowed out at the Northern coast.
A huge platform made of pure earth was soon raised, almost looking like a new part of the island.
Moss and seaweeds littered the newly-birthed ground, making it obvious who was behind this.
"Basara, I sent the order to move in the troops."
Sengoku's eyes were currently hidden by the shine across his spectacles, making it impossible to know what the man was thinking.
"Fifty thousand will fight first; the rest will wait and act as backup. This won't be a quick fight… we'll cycle the troops to ensure they remain at maximum stamina."
Basara heard the explanation and nodded in agreement.
.
While the army moved into the newly risen platform, a line of pirate ships debuted.
They spanned from end to end of the horizon, creating quite the sight. Many ships boasted their own Jolly Roger, though the ROCKS banner at the top made it obvious whose flag they were under.
The Admirals waited as a few other big names arrived.
Thud!
"They've brought quite the array of ships… Bwahahaha! I like this side of the island more."
"For once, I can agree with you, Garp."
The tens of thousands of marines rejoiced, raising their weapons to the sky.
"Two Admirals, Admiral Candidate Zephyr and Vice Admiral Garp, are with us!" they exclaimed.
The morale hit the skies, roaring across the seas.
.
"No matter what, the pirates cannot break beyond the coast!" Sengoku warned his colleagues.
Basara hummed, raising his arms.
*Rumble!* Boom!
At his command, giant walls soon rose from the bottom of the sea to nearly 100 meters in the sky!
The surging seas displaced Dozens of enemy ships. The situation worsened as the twin walls shifted toward one another, pushing the pirate ships into close proximity. It stopped with just enough room to accommodate the Titanic.
"Sailing to their deaths so foolheartedly," Basara sneered, his concentration locked onto the long line of enemy ships forced within a narrow channel.
They also no longer needed to worry about any flanks.
Sengoku hummed in agreement at the enemy's boldness. This was different from Borealis' Auction or Sol's Pirate Festival; before, it was the Navy having to venture to pirate seas, but now, they had the chance to prepare for the enemy coming to them.
'The seastone will be the final nail in their coffin,' the Buddha thought, admiring the metal plating at the inner part of the two walls.
[Damned Channel of Ships Image (in Discord)]
A sharp hissing wind picked up, carrying the aroma of the salty sea air.
With a click, the Buddha picked up his snail. His eyes sharpened at the distant enemy fleet while his authoritative voice reached thousands of ears.
"Initiate Protocol Sixty-Six."
…
[Pirate Side]
The joyous scum roared out in delight as they sensed the endless treasures of God Valley not too far away.
The advent of hundreds of ships were forced into a channel barely 80 meters wide, but it had little immediate effect.
"Are we supposed to be scared of these measly walls? Give me a break!"
"I want to bathe in their Gods' blood, dine at their flesh and enslave their young!"
"Cough-Cough-Cough! We of the Pandemic Pirates will lead the charge!"
Thirty-five thousand pirates! Not just any pirates, but the worst in existence! Yet that broken relationship between their forces left glaring problems.
"Puru," "Puru," "Puru."
Thousands of snails went off simultaneously. Their nostalgic ringing brewed up an ominous atmosphere. Thousands of fellow "pirates" took in a deep breath as they heard the four words.
Shing!
Boom!
Pew! Pew!
Kaboom!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bam!
"What's goin- Augh!"
"Ouugh!"
*Splatter* Boom!
Across the hundred-plus ships was chaos. It sparked like a virus, spreading across every vessel.
Blood rained and splashed without mercy, creeping into the floorboards and dyeing the sea below with a fresh red hue.
Heads rolled, bodies fell, and lives ended.
Thousands of personnel acting as pirates jumped into combat.
Bullets flew, cannons fired, blades slashed. Backstabs, headshots, kills, it was all there. Within a heartbeat, thousands of men died; their lives ended before they could even react.
BOOM!
Suddenly, an entire ship exploded! Debris rained down from above: wooden planks, metal bars and limbs.
Boom!
Kaboom!
Boom!
Dozens of ships carrying hundreds of pirates went off like a chain explosion, bringing red-hot flames to the air.
An orange dawn fell upon the mountain channel, baking the others in heat and fire. Mushroom clouds dominated the now-ashy skies, hiding wails and cries of pain under its damning darkness.
BOOM!
Thousands died by the second as the insurgents attacked together, and Rocks Pirates were quickly reduced from 35,000 to 28,000!
"Damn it! We got rats!"
A pirate roared upon his battle-torn ship. He was Ruben, a mighty pirate who had joined Rocks' banner after the Scorched Sea War.
Grim reality flashed in the man's eyes as he felt the deaths around him.
A rifle was raised, striking down three marines many kilometers away.
Ruben smirked and looked at an enemy commanding officer through the scope.
*Click*
"Dammit! These trashy guns jam so often!" He cursed, tossing the rifle away.
Seeing the prey escape, Ruben instead picked up his bone sword, reeled it back like a spear, and shot it across the turbulent seas, nailing the enemy's heart.
"Heh," the man chuckled. He found pleasure in the chaos, that is, until it came to him.
*Swish!*
The sharp pain shot up his spine, freezing his body. If not for the anger in his eyes, Ruben may have succumbed to the fatal stab.
"Vanheim," he growled, recognizing the curved blade's user—it was his own right-hand man who stabbed him in the back!
"You bastard!"
Ruben roared through the pain of the blade protruding thirty centimeters from his chest and bashed his right elbow into the figure behind him. The cry of pain from Vanheim brought no satisfaction to the Captain.
Vanheim's pink eyes widened from the pressure around his throat. He squealed while his back slammed into the wooden railing, his mind shaking.
"We made a pact to conquer the seas together… Why'd you do this!"
The traitor grunted through the solid grip, meeting his Captain's eyes in fright. "Y-You're leading us to our death!"
Ruben sneered, wasting no time for talk, and grabbed Vanheim by the back of his head. With a quick show of force, he jammed Vanheim's right eye into the blade still protruding out of his chest.
Blood dripped from the writhing pirate before he was tossed aside.
BOOOM!
Ruben's ears rang from the sudden explosion. A quick look revealed the ship was sinking fast. The fire had already spread through the cabin and onto the sails—more traitors.
The veteran pirate cared little for his ship, and like many other top dogs under the Rocks Pirates, he jumped off the weeping ship and into the cold seas below.
The water was filled with debris and blood. Ruben glanced to his left and right and lightly grinned—tens of thousands of his fellow monsters had done the same as him. They would swim a kilometer to the shores to take their anger out on the Marines and Nobles!
Then came the grim reality.
Ruben paused in his stroke. He took a deep breath from the ashy skies, slowly lighting up in flames.
"What the hell is that!?"
"That's a bit much now!"
He ignored the nearby pirates' dismay and clenched his jaw in solemnity.
*Ruuhhh* An ominous wind blew as giant globs of hellfire made their debut. They didn't know where it came from, but a voice echoed within the walls of the channel:
.
"Meteor Volcano!"
.
Ruben clicked his tongue, sighing his frustrations, "Basara, that crafty fox!"
Some ships remained floating through the chaos, having dealt with the insurgents.
"The volcanic rocks are aimed in the mountainous channel. So I'll just rip apart these metal walls!"
Soon enough, the thin fleet continued its advent, caring little of the men they lost.
One such ship belongs to the Captain of the Bomb Pirates.
"Boo-Boo-Boo! Let's see if your little wall can take my heat!"
He grabbed a fistful of hair along his extremely long mane and clumped it into a ball.
"Watch out, Grendel is using his Bomb-Bomb Fruit!"
.
"Keratin Bomber!"
.
Grendel shot out the clump of hair that flew across the sea and onto the metal walls.
*BOOM!* The explosion was beyond that of the ships; instead, it was enough to melt metal!
It waved across the thick walls, bathing it with the hot flames.
"..."
"N-No way, the wall didn't even budge!"
"Seastone plating! Damn that Fulcrum!"
The swimming Ruben grunted at his inevitable death—they couldn't break out from the walls, and they couldn't get to the shores in time…
He looked up to see a twenty-meter-wide boulder doused in lava aiming right at him. The attack would surely claim his life, and yet his eyes were defiant.
"You can burn us to the ground, but we will rise from the ashes—no one can stop the massacre of your Gods!"
[Attack Image (in Discord)]
…
Basara continued to release his rocky lava fists, courtesy of his versatile Devil Fruit.
The mountains he erected acted as a natural chokepoint, and the fireworks show considerably whittled down their numbers.
The marines gulped as the heat assaulted their faces, but that soon turned into a boisterous roar of morale. The Admiral watched without a hint of pity, continuously releasing his infernal attack.
His one eye watched the crumbling fleet. Flashes of his beloved Seigi Island baked in flames seemed to overlap with the hell before him.
"Rocks...you brought war and death to my home. Now, I bring the same to your people!" Basara's words were venomous, and his heart was burning with justice.
"This is the end of the line for the Rocks Pirates…I'll make sure of it!"
To Be Continued…