Within the Grand Line, the various commanders of Baroque Works had all received the Vice-President's urgent summons, ordering them to return to Alabasta at once.
None of them doubted the call, and they obeyed without hesitation, traveling back toward Baroque Works' headquarters in Alabasta.
Among these officers were Miss Wednesday and Mr. 8—though in truth, they were none other than Princess Vivi of Alabasta and her loyal guardian, Captain Igaram.
Their original mission had been to slay Laboon, the massive whale at Twin Capes. But now, orders took precedence—they would return to Alabasta and regroup.
In truth, both Vivi and Igaram wanted to know what had become of their homeland. Had the corruption worsened? Was Alabasta still sinking into chaos?
By infiltrating Baroque Works, they had successfully risen to the rank of field officers. One more promotion, and they would stand among the organization's top leaders.
That would bring them close—close enough to uncover the shadowy mastermind pulling the strings behind Baroque Works.
The one responsible for using Dance Powder to force Alabasta's rains to fall only on the capital and Rainbase, all while painting the king as the villain.
Meanwhile, out in the desert beyond Rainbase…
Crocodile—the Sand Crocodile himself—continued fleeing underground, burrowing through the sand with relentless speed. But the cadres of the Aralon Pirates chased him with unyielding determination, refusing to give up the hunt.
It infuriated him. Were these bastards really out to exterminate him entirely?
"Since when?! Since when was this the way of the sea?!" he snarled in his mind.
The unspoken code was simple: if you fled, you weren't pursued; if you surrendered, you weren't killed. That was the unspoken law pirates lived by!
But these maniacs? They didn't play by any rules. They clung to him like leeches, merciless and relentless!
And that damned long-eared brat's Observation Haki… it was too sharp. Crocodile had changed direction underground countless times, and still, they tracked him without fail.
He knew this couldn't continue. At this rate, he would never escape.
Crocodile's eyes narrowed. He suddenly turned his course toward the rebel army's encampment.
Let's see if Enel can still find me while I'm buried in a sea of soldiers.
From a distance, Bartholomew Kuma spotted ragged civilians and rebel soldiers beginning to appear. His expression hardened instantly.
If a battle broke out here, among so many innocents, the casualties would be catastrophic. Especially when the combatants were Enel, wielder of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, and Crocodile with his Sand-Sand Fruit. Both were walking natural disasters—harvesters of lives.
And then, within the throng of rebels, Crocodile finally emerged from beneath the desert sands.
"Kuahaha! I hear this Souta Kiryuu fellow has been calling on the world to rise up against the Celestial Dragons and the World Government."
He sneered at Enel and Kuma as they closed in, while Gecko Moria lagged far behind.
"So tell me—will the Aralon Pirates really dare to slaughter civilians here?"
His mocking laughter rang out across the sand.
"Hmph. I thought the Warlords of the Sea had some shred of pride," Kuma rumbled, his tone cold as iron. "But you? You'd use innocent lives as a shield. You're nothing but a filthy pirate."
From Kuma's broad shoulder, Bonney spat venom. "Scum like you! Calling yourself a hero while hiding behind women and children!"
Kuma's face darkened, his demeanor heavy and grim.
"Tch. Do you think I care about ants?" Enel drawled lazily, cleaning his ear with one long finger. Civilians, soldiers—he didn't even see them as people. But his contempt for Crocodile deepened.
A so-called Warlord. A supposed hero of the desert kingdom. In Enel's eyes, Crocodile was nothing more than a cowardly dog.
"I know you don't care," Crocodile said smoothly, exhaling a puff of smoke as he lit another cigar. "But him? He just might."
He cast a knowing glance at Kuma. Crocodile had seen the "Tyrant" before in the Sorbet Kingdom—rescuing innocents, saving the helpless. That so-called monstrous title, Tyrant Kuma, was nothing but a farce spun by the World Government.
Enel's lip curled, but his gaze flickered—just for a moment—toward Kuma and Bonney's expressions. He had, indeed, forgotten that his comrades were not like him.
"Kuahaha! I see it now… a fracture in your alliance." Crocodile's laugh rumbled low, savoring the moment. Two opposites—merciless Enel and gentle Kuma—would they clash here, over mere commoners?
With thousands of rebel soldiers swarming around, Crocodile felt almost untouchable. Whether he chose to fight or simply melt back into the sands, he believed he had options.
Of course, his true hope was simpler—that the Aralon Pirates would withdraw of their own accord.
"It's Lord Crocodile!"
A ragged cry broke out as Alabastan civilians recognized him. Joy lit their weary faces.
After all, Crocodile was still their kingdom's celebrated savior. Each year, he had struck down pirate crews who landed on Alabastan shores, shielding them from countless raids.
Add in Baroque Works' carefully woven propaganda, and Crocodile's fame now eclipsed that of King Cobra himself.
"Kuahaha! Stand back, all of you! I'll deal with these pirate villains!" Crocodile roared theatrically, striking a heroic pose.
Cheers erupted from the civilians and rebels alike. Gripping weapons, they glared at Kuma and Enel with hatred in their eyes.
"Disgusting! Using their lives as a shield while spouting heroic lies!" Bonney seethed, trembling with rage. Even Enel and Moria seemed more tolerable than this two-faced warlord.
"Yahahaha! Kuma!" Enel's golden eyes gleamed with a mad hunger. "These ants are pointing weapons at us already. May I slaughter them?"
Crocodile's act hadn't shaken him in the slightest. He cared only for Kuma's answer. Civilians or no, Enel's decision to kill was his alone.
Kuma's massive frame tensed. His face was stone, but inside, turmoil raged.
He saw their murderous glares. To them, he and his crew were villains. Criminals. While Crocodile—the true enemy—was hailed as their protector.
Kuma wanted to explain, to tell them the truth. But looking into their furious, hate-filled eyes, he knew words were useless. To them, Crocodile was a hero. The Aralon Pirates were butchers.
Bonney's brows knitted, frustration twisting her features. She glanced at Kuma, then at the deceived civilians. Her resolve wavered. To kill, or not to kill?
But before either could act—
A suffocating wave of Conqueror's Haki crashed down from above.
Blood-red lightning split the sky, thundering down upon the battlefield. The pressure was overwhelming, crushing. Crocodile's mocking smile froze, horror twisting his face as his body refused to move. Even his sand form betrayed him. Behind him, rebels and civilians alike collapsed unconscious in droves.
"Today…" a voice thundered from the heavens, "…I'll teach you what it means when a lion strikes a rabbit. You end a battle before it begins—with one decisive blow!"
From high above, Souta Kiryuu plummeted in a blinding dive, his body halfway transformed into a draconic form. His aura blazed with unrestrained Conqueror's Haki.
He slammed down with a colossal axe-strike, fists clasped together. The impact shook the desert as Crocodile was smashed deep into the ground, carving a crater a hundred meters wide.
When the dust cleared, Souta stood tall within the pit. At his feet lay Crocodile, eyes rolled back, blood streaming from his broken skull.
"And you," Souta said coldly, his words like a blade, "learn this lesson well. In this great age of conflict, where the winds howl and waves crash—those without strength should hold their tongues.
Running from battle, blind to your own weakness… you were begging for me to crush you."
His voice carried with effortless finality.
From the sidelines, Bonney's eyes shone with awe.
Her Aralon leader had struck again—clean, decisive, absolute.