Bickley, the Sword Saint, glanced around and felt a surge of humiliation. The onlookers stared at him as though he were nothing but a monkey — an insult he could hardly bear. The Celestial Dragons of Holy Land Mary Geoise treated their human pets with that same condescending gaze.
I am a descendant of God… he thought bitterly. How dare you look at me with such contempt?
"Hey, you inferior humans, how dare you stare at me like that?" he shouted, his voice trembling with rage. "Do you even know who I am? I am of Imu's bloodline — kneel before me!"
But no one knelt. No one flinched.
Bickley's eyes locked on Ashveil. A fury rose in his voice. "And you, Ashveil — don't think you're special just because you defeated me! I am no ordinary Celestial Dragon. I am of Imu's lineage — Mobite clan! Since you reduced me to this, Imu will never spare you!"
Ashveil narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. Bickley had truly misread the situation. Even now, arrogant as he was, he dared stand against him. Compared to Bickley's bluster, the more pragmatic Saint Mars and Kaido seemed far more grounded.
"Hmph," Ashveil snorted coldly. "You know what? I'm not bothered to deal with you personally. Let my subordinate handle you."
He turned casually toward Urouge. "Urouge, this one's yours. Teach him a proper lesson."
Urouge stepped forward, hesitation flashing across his face for a moment. As he did, Donquixote Doflamingo — the Yasha — advanced, a sly grin on his face.
"Urouge, don't waste this chance," Doflamingo said. "He's still human. Nothing divine about his cruelty. You're under Ashveil now — you cannot let him look down on you."
Doflamingo's words hung heavy in the air. Though he himself was a Celestial Dragon, his family had once sought to return to Mary Geoise, only to be denied by the higher echelons — the very Mobite line Bickley claimed as his own. That rejection had fueled Doflamingo's ambition, and now, this was his chance for vengeance.
Urouge stiffened. A Celestial Dragon is still just a man, he thought. If this "Saint" can be humiliated, so can any of them.
He raised his massive palm, his muscles coiled like a spring.
Bickley's eyes widened in shock. How dare he? Even as a Celestial Dragon, he had never been disrespected like this.
"You beast, you worthless human, do you want to die?" Bickley snarled, anger and pain mixing on his face.
Urouge smiled coldly, lifting his hand higher. "Descendant of God? Ha! You were crushed by Captain Ashveil. Do you really still deserve to speak of divine lineage?" His roar echoed around them.
Then — smack! — Urouge's palm connected with Bickley's cheek. The crack of skin met flesh rang out sharply.
Around them, people exhaled in satisfaction. Even if you were a Celestial Dragon, no one dared provoke the Whitebeard Pirates — or their new king — without consequence.
Bickley's hand trembled, touching the red bruise forming on his cheek. His face burned, humiliated beyond anything he had felt before — struck by a "lowly" human.
He stared at Urouge, disbelief plastered across his features. He still had Haki left, enough to defend himself. So why had that palm broken through?
Confusion and shame warped his expression — and the people around him could not hide their delight. Among them, Empress Hancock's eyes glittered with a secret, triumphant satisfaction.
Urouge, sensing the approval, raised his hand again with renewed confidence and slapped Bickley once more, this time even harder.
Bickley's eyes reddened. He dares to strike me twice? he thought, anger and desperation fuelling him. He had no time to dodge — he would have to fight back.
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