Roya hovered in the skies above Mary Geoise, his eyes fixed on the city below as prismatic spore-clouds erupted one after another, his heart surging with both fury and dread.
These human spore bombs—it wasn't simply that no one had foreseen such a tactic. Even if someone had, there would have been no way to prepare for or counter it.
This was a mode of attack that lay wholly outside the understanding of anyone alive—including Roya himself.
Who could ever imagine that these tiny things, no different from the myriad fungi within the human body, would suddenly erupt at a chosen moment, destroying their hosts from within?
One moment, the person beside you was your comrade-in-arms, your brother in life and death. The next, he had become a puppet of spores!
If he failed to kill you, he would explode into a cloud of spores, infecting you in turn—dragging you down the same doomed path.
Who could possibly escape such ambush and contagion?
In less than ten minutes, every marine stationed in Mary Geoise had been consumed by spores—without exception!
Apart from the thousand-odd spore puppets that were destroyed in the first outbreak when overwhelmed by numbers, the remaining tens of thousands of marines had now all been infected, transformed into spore thralls.
And under the direction of a single will, they turned their guns not upon enemies—but upon the very residents of Mary Geoise they were sworn to protect.
Doors were smashed open, helpless civilians dragged from their hiding places and thrown into the spore clouds.
Those who dared resist were riddled with bullets on the spot, their corpses tossed into spore-vines, which devoured them in the blink of an eye.
The rolling, snowballing tide of spore-mist thickened by the second, spreading into every corner of Mary Geoise.
Even the most hidden underground sanctuaries were not spared.
For no matter how airtight a survival chamber was built, it required ventilation.
And through those very ducts, the spores seeped in, purging every last refuge.
Witnessing all of this, Roya's rage boiled over.
Yet he could not lash out recklessly. He had to wait—for the enemy lurking so deeply, able to evade even his spiritual sense, to finally reveal a flaw!
At last, as certain spores absorbed enough life essence, they began a process of transport and transference.
Carefully, Roya extended his perception, following the path of this life-energy flow, inch by inch, toward its point of convergence.
"The Flower Room!"
When he discerned the direction, his heart jolted. For there—another time bomb far more dangerous was being held!
In a flash, he dove into the spore-mist that now flooded the Flower Room.
Around him, waves of spiritual vibration rippled at high frequency, shattering every spore that sought to invade his body into nothing but raw energy.
And upon the Throne of the Void, he finally laid eyes on the one behind the Mary Geoise massacre.
The newly promoted Marine Admiral—Ryokugyu!
Ryokugyu seemed unsurprised, as though he had long expected Roya's arrival. He laughed aloud:
"Yo yo yo! If it isn't the great Lord Roya! What's the rush? Don't tell me my little tricks have already thrown you into a panic?"
Roya answered with a cold snort, his attention fixed on Im.
The cage of weapons that imprisoned Im was now fully enshrouded in spore-mist.
Life-energy was being ferried ceaselessly by the spores, delivered into Imu's body—slowly but inexorably catalyzing his transformation into bio-metal.
Roya could feel it clearly: Im's consciousness still fought against the erosion and assimilation of the beacon intelligence. But his resistance was weakening with every passing moment.
At most, half an hour remained. Then this tragic human hero—the one who had single-handedly borne the weight of the catastrophe unleashed by the Star Spirits—would be erased, transformed into a transmission beacon to summon the alien harvesters' full invasion.
Roya could not allow such a thing to happen before his very eyes.
Yet Imu's condition had reached a precarious equilibrium.
Any rash action might tip the balance, causing Im's already fragile consciousness to collapse in an instant.
Casting a glance at Ryokugyu, basking in his triumph upon the Void Throne, Roya cautiously and silently extended his spiritual sense into Im's body, working at full force to undo the spores' catalysis of his bio-metallic transformation.
Seeing Roya remain silent, Ryokugyu's laughter twisted into a sinister chuckle.
He shifted the subject, saying:
"Tell me, Lord Roya—you don't really think I planted spores only in those lowly marines, do you?
I'll let you in on a secret… there are plenty of my people among the elite officers as well!"
Roya's pupils contracted sharply.
The marine elite corps had already lost over half their number in the first wave of the colossal beasts' assault. If they were to be thrown into chaos by spore subversion a second time, there was a real chance of complete annihilation!
And should the defense collapse, the remaining titans would surge past the Red Line—encircling the New World's defenses from both front and rear.
At that point, the world's primary fighting strength might be doomed to perish in a single battle.
"I have to resolve Im's situation first. The Void Throne must never be allowed to connect directly to the pyramid ship!"
In an instant, Roya swept aside his gnawing worry for the marines' battlefield, focusing every shred of his spiritual power back onto Im.
But Ryokugyu only sneered again:
"Click click… how cold-blooded you are, Lord Roya! A hundred thousand of your main battle force, and you abandon them without hesitation.
But what if it were the Whitebeard Pirates? What if it were the empress, or Robin, or that dazzling beauty Hiyori?
Would you still cast them aside so easily?"
Roya's breathing grew heavier.
Ryokugyu had struck a deeper nerve.
If he could abandon even the Whitebeard Pirates—the crew of his own beginning—then even if he succeeded in stopping the alien harvesters' arrival, what meaning would remain?
The ones he most wished to protect… would already be gone.
Sensing the shift in Roya's aura, Ryokugyu's laughter erupted anew—wild, exultant.
He laughed for half a minute straight before suddenly cutting himself off, his tone sinking into malice.
"Roya… do you remember?
The first time we met—was on Punk Hazard!"
"It took no small effort to deceive that idiot Akainu into trusting me, to bring me before you.
So tell me—can you guess what little tricks I planted… in your most loyal subordinates?"
Roya's spirit wavered—because he remembered.
That time, Ryokugyu had been pummeled and ground into the dirt by the Poison Behemoth.
And with the nature of the Poison Behemoth, it must have drained life-energy from him.
Which meant… from that very moment, Ryokugyu's game had begun.
And every step since—had gone according to plan.
Magellan—was in peril!
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