"Lord Charmarco! Quick, quick—press the Transponder Snail to summon a Marine Admiral!"
The butler of the Celestial Dragon shouted frantically, his voice trembling with fear. This wasn't some ordinary pirate approaching them—this was the madman who had dared to declare war on the Celestial Dragons.
"Summon who?!" snarled Saint Charmarco, his face hidden behind his square glass helmet. "Does he dare lay a hand on me? I am a World Noble, a Celestial Dragon!"
In his arrogance, Charmarco grabbed hold of a massive cannon and aimed it at the crimson dragon circling above.
"Ha! Today, I, a god, shall capture a dragon!"
With a manic laugh, he fired straight into the sky.
The butler broke into a cold sweat, horrified. Around him, dozens of CP agents in black suits stood in formation, tightly guarding their master.
Boom!
The cannonball exploded against the dragon's scales—yet not a scratch was left behind.
Instead, Souta Kiryuu opened his colossal jaws, releasing a torrent of flame. A roaring dragon's breath, nearly twenty meters thick, surged downward and engulfed the golden warship.
"Protect Lord Charmarco!"
The butler screamed, and several CP agents hoisted the Celestial Dragon, fleeing desperately for their lives.
Rumble!
The golden warship—on par with an Admiral's flagship—was torn apart in an instant. Flames, smoke, and shrapnel rained down as the ship tilted violently.
Souta landed amidst the chaos in his half-dragon form, tossing the unconscious Wapol aside. His blood-red eyes locked onto the Celestial Dragon, still shielded by CP agents.
"Kill him!"
Charmarco's face twisted in terror, snot and tears running down his face as he shrieked. Never in his life had death loomed so close.
"Lord Charmarco, use the emergency snail! Summon an Admiral!" the bloodied butler cried.
"Yes! Once an Admiral arrives, we'll finish him off!"
Panicking, Charmarco fumbled for a gilded, ornate Transponder Snail and slammed its button.
Instantly, signals were transmitted across the seas. At Marine Headquarters, Fleet Admiral Sengoku and the three Admirals all received the call.
Celestial Dragon under attack!
"Help! A dragon is attacking us! Hurry!" Charmarco screamed into the snail, his words incoherent and high-pitched with panic.
"We are Saint Charmarco's fleet! We're in the waters off Drum Island—it's Souta Kiryuu! He's attacking us!" the butler added quickly, ensuring the crucial details were sent.
"Souta Kiryuu? Drum Island waters?" Sengoku's expression darkened. The location was far too distant from Marineford, and none of the Admirals were nearby.
"Kizaru! Get there as fast as you can!"
The Buddha had no choice but to send his fastest man. But even he knew—it was already too late. Charmarco's life was likely forfeit.
Kizaru's scalp tingled as he accepted the impossible task. He could already feel the weight of blame, the fury of the Five Elders ready to fall on his shoulders. Still, he had no choice but to obey. In a flash of light, he sped toward Drum Island.
On the tilting golden ship, Souta's body crackled with black-red lightning streaked with gold. Lunarian fire burned across his wings and shoulders, his very presence warping the air.
Everywhere he passed, CP agents and guards were shredded into pieces, their blood splattering against his crimson scales. The scales greedily absorbed the gore, darkening toward a deeper, bloodier scarlet.
"Ehehahahaha~"
His laugh was manic, deranged—a sound that froze the blood of every living soul on the ship.
Desperation turned the CP agents feral. Pressured by Charmarco's orders and Souta's overwhelming dominance, they roared in futile defiance, throwing themselves at the half-dragon.
"Poison Flame Lightning Claw!"
Souta's talons slashed through them one by one. Some were electrocuted, others incinerated, and many more fell choking on his venom. The strongest among them withstood his Conqueror's Haki—but none survived his claws.
Fear spread like wildfire. Even Saint Charmarco himself, who had always lived above humanity, was trembling uncontrollably.
"Why?! Why don't you fear me, you filthy commoner?!"
His scream was shrill, hysteria breaking his voice. Never had he been this close to someone who dared lay hands on him.
"Fear?" Souta sneered, his horns curving sharper, bone spines tearing through his back. His monstrous form grew ever more fearsome. "I'm going to kill you!"
He charged through the last of the defenders, leaving a trail of corpses in black suits behind him. The butler fell, shredded apart. The final CP agent collapsed, lifeless.
At last, Souta stood before Saint Charmarco. With one devastating strike, he shattered the Celestial Dragon's glass helmet. His blood-soaked claw closed around the noble's throat.
"You are the first… but you won't be the last."
His laughter echoed across the storm, a terrifying wave that stirred the seas into a frenzy. Scarlet thunderclouds pressed low, as if the heavens themselves were collapsing.
"You there! Reporters! Take your photos. Watch me kill him. Then send those pictures back to your news offices!"
On the ship, several trembling journalists—brought along to document the Celestial Dragon's "glorious tour"—now aimed their Transponder Snails at the horrifying scene.
One old, short man in particular was practically shaking with excitement, his eyes shining. He was a reporter from Morgans' news empire. Unlike the others, he didn't fear the World Government—he lived for this kind of chaos.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound of photography filled the air.
Then—Souta's claw speared straight through Charmarco's chest. Blood sprayed as the noble screamed one final time, silenced forever.
The first Celestial Dragon… had fallen.
"Ehehahahaha! Make sure my picture gets out there!"
Souta howled with laughter as the journalists rushed to transmit the images through Fax Snails. He let Charmarco's corpse drop, then prowled through the wreckage, pillaging treasure before hefting the unconscious Wapol once more.
In a flash of crimson light, he transformed into a dragon again and soared into the stormy skies.
As his massive body vanished, the suffocating clouds slowly dispersed.
On deck, the surviving reporters were drenched in cold sweat. Some were shaking uncontrollably. One had even wet himself.
"Move! Unless you want to share the Celestial Dragon's grave, get out of here now!"
The Morgans-affiliated journalist barked, snatching a bag of treasure and scrambling into an escape boat. The rest scrambled after him, desperate to flee this nightmare.
They knew one thing with certainty—
The seas were about to plunge into chaos.
A demon who had slain a Celestial Dragon now walked the world.
High above, Souta reveled in his triumph. His Conqueror's Haki burned brighter, sharper, stronger than ever before.
With his plunder in tow, he vanished into the sky, cloaking himself in invisibility as he returned toward Skypiea, making certain no prying eyes could trace him.
The age of madness had begun.