Robin watched Kael from the corner of her eye, her body turned halfway toward him. Her small hands hugged the thick book even tighter, as if it were her only shield.
His smile was gentle. It was nothing like the twisted mix of disgust and fear she usually saw on the adults' faces in town whenever they looked at her.
His eyes were a pure, clear gold, like the warmest afternoon sunlight. There was no malice in them at all.
Mihawk's hawk like gaze moved slowly between Kael and the little girl, a strange, unreadable light flickering in his eyes.
He remembered the two little maids in Kael's luxurious villa, remembered Perona hugging her stuffed bear, and now here was Kael again, speaking softly to yet another little girl.
Was it his imagination, or did Kael have an unusual amount of patience for girls of this age?
Kael felt Mihawk's silent scrutiny and the corner of his mouth twitched. Inwardly he was screaming.
I am innocent. Heaven bear witness, I am not a lolicon.
It is just that all the girls I happen to be interested in… are still lolis, okay? How is that my fault?
Of course, he also knew that with Mihawk's personality, this was more of a teasing interpretation than a serious accusation.
That guy must have picked up on something.
Sure enough, Mihawk's gaze lingered on Robin for a moment, and those eyes that missed nothing caught a discordant detail.
On the hem of her worn dress were many dark red stains, like tomato juice splattered from something being crushed.
So that is it. Bullying. Stupid, petty bullying that is disgusting no matter where you see it.
Mihawk understood and said nothing more.
For a true swordsman, tormenting the weak was the dullest thing in the world.
The weak draw their blades against someone weaker. The strong draw their blades against someone stronger.
At the same time, even Moria, who had been silent, felt a familiar aura coming off Robin.
That feeling of being pushed out by the world, of being cut off from everyone else. The loneliness of never being understood. It pricked faintly at his heart like an invisible thorn.
Perhaps because she sensed their silence, Robin's guard went up even higher.
A blurry memory surfaced from the depths of her mind, of a bounty poster she had glimpsed when sneaking a look at discarded newspapers.
Pirates. They were dangerous pirates.
These three in front of her… especially that black haired, golden eyed man… he seemed to be the most terrifying one of all.
Pirates brought disasters in their wake.
Fear once again crushed her curiosity.
Robin snapped her head around, a flash of determination glinting in her clear eyes.
The next second, everything changed.
Shurururu.
On the ground and tree trunks around the three men, pale little hands suddenly "sprouted" into existence. They all opened at once, surrounding Kael and the others with an eerie sense of pressure.
Even Moria blinked in surprise at the sudden spectacle.
Using that brief instant of shock, Robin bolted like a frightened fawn, dashing into the thick forest without looking back. Her small figure quickly vanished among the trees.
The arms on the ground and the trunks faded away like the tide receding, as if they had never existed.
Kael's half extended hand froze in mid air. The smile on his face collapsed.
He slowly withdrew his hand and pressed it over his heart, looking as if he had taken a critical hit.
"Do I really look that evil?" he muttered, head drooping in dejection. "I am just a handsome big brother passing by, you know."
Mihawk gave him a sidelong glance and did not bother responding to this overacting clown.
Moria, on the other hand, actually spoke for once. There was something complicated in his tone.
"She is… really afraid of us."
"Come on, let us follow her." Kael's defeated act vanished in an instant. His expression returned to calm. "It will not be long before something happens to this island."
The three of them followed the faint traces left in the forest at an easy pace.
The path suddenly opened up. The sound of waves hitting the shore grew louder.
On a wide stretch of beach, little Robin was stumbling forward, running as fast as her legs would carry her toward a colossal silhouette.
"Saul!" she cried, her voice choked with tears and grievance.
A giant as large as a small hill was sitting there. Hearing her call, he turned around, a big, simple, doting smile spreading across his face.
He reached out a massive hand and gently scooped Robin up, setting her on his shoulder.
"Dereshishishi, what is wrong, Robin? Why are you in such a hurry?" Jaguar D. Saul's voice was surprisingly soft and warm for someone with such a huge body.
"Th there are pirates…" Robin pointed back at the trees, but before she could finish her sentence
Saul's smile crumbled bit by bit, like a sandcastle washed away by the tide, until only a stiff outline remained.
Three silhouettes stepped slowly out from the shadows of the forest. The black haired, golden eyed man at the front still wore a faintly helpless smile.
Boom.
In Saul's mind, it was as if thunder had exploded. He felt like he had been struck by lightning.
His enormous body went rigid. His pupils shrank. A storm surged through his heart.
He… he must be seeing things.
That face. Kael Grylls.
Saul blinked hard, almost convinced he was hallucinating.
That was the face that had appeared on the highest level emergency reports at Marine Headquarters years ago. It was etched deep into his memory.
And the two behind him. The swordsman whose gaze was sharper than a blade, and that eerie looking man… those two had also been at his side two years ago.
Ohara was a World Government affiliated nation, a holy land for scholars. How could monsters of this level possibly appear here?
As a former Marine Vice Admiral, Saul understood better than anyone what kind of terrifying weight the name Kael Grylls carried.
Fear rose in his heart like icy seawater, engulfing his chest in an instant.
Even so, his first instinct was to carefully lift Robin down from his shoulder and hide her behind him. He hunched his mountain like body, shielding the girl completely from view.
He forced his trembling legs to stay firm, mustered every ounce of courage he had, and faced the three approaching figures with unprecedented solemnity.
Kael stopped a few steps away. He looked at the giant standing as if facing his worst enemy, then at Robin peeking out from behind Saul's leg, only daring to show half her little face.
He could not help letting out a long, weary sigh.
"Man…"
Do I really look that much like a villain?
"What do you want?" Saul's voice was hoarse from tension. "Ohara is a peaceful island. We will not allow you to do as you please here."
"We do not want anything." Kael spread his hands, feeling strangely tired. "We are just here for a trip, and to see the legendary Tree of Knowledge. How was I supposed to know I would scare you this badly?"
Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere, Kael lost the mood to keep playing his usual clown.
He let his carefree smile fade. His golden eyes looked calmly at Saul.
"Jaguar D. Saul."
The moment his full name was spoken aloud, Saul's pupils constricted violently.
"We bear no ill will toward you, toward this child, or toward this island." Kael's tone was flat, but it carried a weight that brooked no doubt.
"We are only passing through. The reason I came to say hello was to tell you one thing."
He paused, letting his gaze slide past Saul's shoulder until it met the frightened yet curious black eyes hiding behind him.
"Little one, remember this. Knowledge is not a crime. The desire to seek the truth of history is even less so."
With that, he turned around without another word and started walking back toward the forest.
"We are just leaving like this?" Mihawk fell into step beside him.
"What else?" Kael shrugged. "They clearly are not happy to see us. I cannot just squat here and refuse to go, can I? I am a high class pirate of the new age with manners."
Moria strode after them in his long, loping steps and glanced back once.
On the beach, the giant still held his guard, frozen in that stance, not moving an inch.
Only when the three figures had completely vanished among the trees did Saul's whole body finally go slack. He collapsed onto the sand with a thump, panting heavily.
"Saul?" Robin tugged at his clothes with a timid hand.
"I am fine, Robin." Saul forced out a smile uglier than crying and patted her head. "They are… gone."
Gone?
Robin turned to stare at the empty forest. Her small head was full of big question marks.
What did that man named Kael mean by those last words?
Knowledge is not a crime…
…
Two days later.
On a remote cliff along Ohara's western coastline, Kael, Mihawk, and Moria were sitting casually near the edge.
Kael had a stem of grass between his teeth and his hands pillowed behind his head as he stared vacantly at the distant blue line where sea and sky met.
All of a sudden, he sat up slowly and spat the grass stem out. The lazy look disappeared from his golden eyes, replaced by a depth as dark as the abyss.
He rose to his feet and walked right to the edge of the cliff, letting the wind whip his hair and clothes.
He stared out over the seemingly empty waters, as if his gaze could pierce through space itself to see something far beyond the horizon.
"Do not rush it."
Mihawk and Moria exchanged a glance, each seeing confusion mirrored in the other's eyes.
They followed Kael's line of sight. All they saw at the edge of their vision was blue sky, white clouds, and endless sea.
"What are you looking at?" Mihawk frowned. His Kenbunshoku Haki was already covering an enormous area of the ocean, but within his range there was nothing at all.
Kael did not turn around. He just stood there quietly.
In his "vision," however, the world was completely different.
Dozens of grim steel warships were cutting through the waves, bearing down on this holy land of knowledge with unstoppable force.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the Island of Scholars, Ohara, the peaceful routine beneath the Tree of Knowledge that seemed to bridge heaven and earth was suddenly shattered by a wave of commotion.
The residents and tourists who had been feeding pigeons in the plaza or chatting over coffee outside the cafés stopped what they were doing almost at the same time and began hurrying toward the western shore.
Confusion and unease showed plainly on their faces. Whispered conversations wove together into a low, buzzing background noise.
"What is that out there? They look like… Marine warships?"
"Why are there so many? And they look… hostile."
"Are they here to capture some big name pirate? But we do not have anyone like that on our island."
"Tch, it is all because of those ignorant pirates. Now even our precious time is being wasted."
Out on the sea, ten grim steel warships moved in a spearhead formation, carving through the waves as they surged toward this holy land of knowledge with unstoppable force.
Row upon row of dark cannon muzzles were aimed squarely at Ohara, like the eyes of beasts staring down their prey.
On the deck of the lead flagship, a man in a white suit with a cold, hard expression raised a golden Den Den Mushi.
That distinctive design was enough to make any Marine officer's blood run cold. It was the symbol of absolute judgment, the signal of ultimate sanction.
Buster Call.
The overwhelming force that could erase a nation with ease was now pointing its guns at an island of unarmed scholars.
Fear slowly crept into the murmurs of the people.
"Something is wrong… their cannons… I think they are pointed at us…"
"This has to be a joke. We are a World Government affiliated kingdom!"
High above, on the cliff, the wind howled.
Moria's peculiar laugh echoed again, though this time it carried a mocking edge.
"Gishishishi. Kael, are the Marines coming for us? With just this many, are they not underestimating us a little?"
In his eyes, ten warships and five Vice Admirals made for a frightening show to most people, but if the target was the three of them, it felt a bit underwhelming.
Mihawk did not respond. He simply laid his hand on the hilt of the black blade on his back. With a deep metallic hum, the great cross shaped sword was slowly drawn free.
There was no ripple in his hawk like eyes. The massive fleet before them might as well have been a cloud of annoying flies.
Kael stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the port below as the crowd gradually descended into chaos. He could not help silently snarking to himself.
Arrest me? If they did not at least send three Admirals, that would be the World Government failing at their job.
He turned, met the questioning gazes of the other two, and shook his head.
"No. They are not here for us," Kael said, his tone as calm as if he were mentioning something trivial. "They are here to destroy this island."
"Destroy Ohara?" The smile froze on Moria's face.
Mihawk's hand paused on the hilt for a brief moment. For the first time, a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes.
"The scholars of Ohara touched something they were never meant to touch." Kael looked toward the silhouette of the Tree of Knowledge. The distant fleet flickered in his golden pupils. "The deepest taboo of the World Government, the history they erased."
The air seemed to congeal.
From those words — "erased history" — both Moria and Mihawk sensed a weight heavy enough to overturn the world.
It was more dangerous than any enemy and more perilous than any treasure.
Kael suddenly smiled, a faint curve of the lips that held a trace of demonic temptation.
"Want to know more? About the blank century. About the truth the World Government is desperate to hide."
Moria's Adam's apple bobbed. He instinctively took a half step back.
He craved power, but he also understood very well that some secrets were curses in and of themselves.
Mihawk was much more straightforward. The black blade he had half drawn slid back into its sheath with a clear metallic ring.
He looked at Kael, eyes sharp and deep, and the meaning was obvious.
My interest lies only in the summit of swordsmanship. I have no desire to meddle in dusty old history.
They refused this "gift" that could easily prove fatal.
Kael's smile faded. He was not surprised.
Without the strength to match it, no one should reach for a burden they cannot hope to bear.
Mihawk and Moria had both made the choice most true to their own natures.
He had no intention of pushing them.
In his mind, Kael once again saw the small, stubborn figure of the girl clutching a book almost half her size.
Save Ohara… and then what?
With his current strength, blocking a single Buster Call would not be difficult.
But afterwards? Would the World Government simply let it go?
They would only mobilize greater might, use filthier methods, and keep going until the name "Ohara" was wiped clean from history.
Unless he could topple the entire World Government by himself.
But for what? For a group of scholars he did not know? For some vague, lofty notion of justice?
Kael let out a self mocking chuckle.
Even if he did, what then?
Humanity never thanked Luo Ji.
He was just a passerby, a man who lived for the fun of it.
Enjoying a grand fireworks display was a lot easier, and far more entertaining, than running into the blaze to put it out.
"Kael." Moria's voice pulled him back from his thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"That kid from before…" Moria hesitated. "Is she going to die too?"
Kael went quiet. His gaze drifted once more in the direction of the beach, as if he could see the small figure there through flames and stone.
"That depends on whether her luck is tough enough."
…
On the flagship's deck, the sea wind snapped the cloak with "Justice" written across the back, making it crackle like a banner in a storm.
But beneath this symbol of order and protection, there was no glory, only a suffocating pressure.
A young Marine clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
He stared at the lush, peaceful island ahead, his voice shaking uncontrollably.
"Are we really… going to fire without distinction? The report said there are still lots of civilians and tourists on the island…"
The veteran beside him slammed an elbow into his ribs, shooting him a warning glare.
"Obey orders."
A cold voice cut through their whispers like a knife.
A CP agent in a white suit watched Ohara without a flicker of emotion.
"They are demons who study forbidden history. Anyone who lives on the island of demons is a demon's accomplice. Tolerating evil is a sin in itself.
"The duty of the Marines is to erase sin, along with the soil that nourishes it, from this world entirely."
Twisted as it was, the rhetoric came out of his mouth wrapped in a kind of unquestionable authority.
The young soldier's face went dead white. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
In the shadows, Vice Admiral Kuzan stood with his hands shoved into his pockets. His expression was hidden beneath his messy dark hair.
The CP agent no longer paid any attention to the inner struggle of these "tools." He raised the golden Den Den Mushi in his hand, cleared his throat, and delivered the heartless order to every warship in the fleet.
"Fire."
For one brief second after the command, time seemed to stop.
The next, a roar like the sky itself tearing apart smashed into their ears.
From dozens of warships, hundreds of cannons spat gouts of blazing fire all at once.
Shells trailed long flaming tails as they cut dense arcs of death through the sky and came crashing down toward the defenseless island.
Boom.
The first shell landed in the plaza of the port town. Children at play, scholars in mid discussion, tourists calmly enjoying their afternoon tea, faces still frozen in surprise and confusion from a heartbeat ago
Were swallowed in an instant by the explosion.
Flames and shockwaves ripped through the streets. Fine buildings screamed as they were torn apart, collapsing into piles of shattered stone and splintered beams.
Screams and wails rose to the heavens, only to be drowned quickly by the relentless thunder of more explosions.
"Why… why are the Marines attacking us?!"
"Help me, my leg, my leg!"
"Mom!"
A scholar clutching a book stared in disbelief at the gaping, blood filled hole torn through his chest by shrapnel.
Even at the moment of death, he could not understand how a life spent seeking knowledge could bring down slaughter in the name of "justice."
Blood ran like water along the stone pavement. The air that had once carried the scent of ink and old paper now reeked of gunpowder, charcoal, and the sickening stench of burning flesh.
In the blink of an eye, Ohara had become a living hell.
On the cliff, the wind whipped at the trio's clothes.
Moria's trademark "Gishishishi" was gone. He stared at the apocalypse unfolding below, his hulking body stiff.
Mihawk's hand had somehow found its way back to the hilt of his blade, but this time he did not draw.
Kael appeared the calmest.
He held up a strangely shaped Visual Den Den Mushi and aimed it at the carnage below.
The snail's eyes bulged wide, faithfully recording every detail of the scene: the ruined port, the blazing cannon fire, the fluttering flag of "Justice" in the sky.
"Tsk." Kael clicked his tongue.
Moria swallowed and forced himself to speak. "So this is… the 'justice' they talk about?"
Memories flickered through his mind. His fallen comrades. That desperate, unwinnable fight against Kaido.
Yet even that brutal, bloody battle paled before the sight before him.
That had been a struggle between the strong, where the loser died because they were outmatched.
What he saw now was absolute power turned upon the helpless, a senseless "cleansing" of those who could not resist.
"Justice?" Kael let out a small laugh and adjusted the Visual Den Den Mushi so it would catch a nice close up of the CP agent on the flagship.
"No. This is called 'power.' When your fist is big enough, whatever you do becomes justice."
The barrage continued, cannon blasts slowly creeping toward the center of the island.
Their target was the Tree of Knowledge, the soul of Ohara.
Boom.
A shell slammed into the colossal trunk, tearing open a jagged wound.
More shells shrieked down afterward.
The great tree that had stood for thousands of years, bearing the weight of knowledge and history, finally let out a voiceless groan under the assault of human artillery.
Flames raced up the trunk like orange serpents, hungrily devouring shelf after shelf of precious texts.
Generations of scholars had given their lives to protect this treasury of knowledge. Now, those works were nothing more than firewood, feeding the blaze of "justice" as they turned to ash.
The inferno lit half the sky red, as if history itself were bleeding out in silence.
Mihawk stared at the burning tree at last and spoke.
"Such a crude method."
In his eyes, using a blade to fell the giant tree would at least show a measure of skill.
Using cannons like this was nothing but a cowardly, ugly act of destruction.
"But very effective, is it not?" Kael rose to his feet and stowed the Visual Den Den Mushi away.
He tossed the snail lightly in his hand. A strange light glinted in his golden eyes.
"Now we have a very interesting piece of 'historical text.'"
"What are you planning?" Moria finally snapped out of his daze. He stared at the device in Kael's hand as if it were Pandora's box.
"Me? I am not planning anything at all. I am just a simple hobbyist who likes collecting rare footage."
He paused and looked past the blaze below, toward the direction of the beach that had not yet been engulfed by fire.
"As for when this little 'collection' will prove useful… that depends on whether anyone needs a bit of truth to ignite their revenge."
…
As the cannons of the Buster Call shifted their aim toward the center of the island, the bombardment of the port began to taper off.
Where bustling streets had once been, there was nothing now but rubble and fire. The heavy air reeked of blood and smoke.
The three men leapt from the cliff.
They landed lightly on the scorching stone road and began walking, unhurried, through the blazing ruins as if taking a casual stroll.
This surreal sight quickly drew the attention of a patrol of Marines carrying out "cleanup" operations.
"S stop! Who are you?!"
A young Marine forced himself to shout, but the tremor in his voice betrayed his fear.
The officer leading the squad, a captain, got a clear look at the newcomers and his pupils shrank violently. The color drained from his face in seconds.
His rifle slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground. It was as if an invisible hand had closed around his throat, making even breathing difficult.
That man whose eyes were sharper than a hawk's, Dracule "Hawk Eyes" Mihawk.
That towering, bizarre looking figure, "Shadow Magician" Gecko Moria.
And at their head, the black haired, golden eyed man with that faint, playful smile on his face…
A thunderclap went off in the captain's head.
He remembered. That face, that name, the nightmare that hung over all Marine officers.
The Lord of Aura.
Kael Grylls.
Terror shattered what was left of the captain's composure.
He did not even try to pick up his rifle. His shaking hands fumbled at his chest until he yanked out a Den Den Mushi and stabbed at the dial.
"V Vice Admiral Kuzan! We have… we have a situation! It is Kael, Kael Grylls and his two companions… they are in the ruins of the west port!"
His voice was so shrill and sharp from fear that it almost broke into a scream.
Kael watched him with mild interest, then strolled slowly forward. Under the captain's petrified stare he raised two fingers and neatly plucked the still connected Den Den Mushi from his hand.
"Moshi moshi?" Kael brought the snail to his mouth, speaking in a cheerful tone. "Sashi buri da na, Kuzan san."
Silence answered him.
One second. Two.
Then, a roar filled with boundless fury exploded from both the distant sky and the Den Den Mushi at the same time, loud enough to tear the burning heavens apart.
"Kael!"
Before the word had even fully died out, a figure wreathed in icy blue light was already plummeting from the sky at incredible speed.
Kuzan had leapt high into the air, his right arm coated in jet black Armament Haki. The form of his fist was unmistakably that of the Marine hero Garp's steel breaking punch.
Enemies who meet again fight all the harder.
Kuzan had no intention of holding back. His very first strike was a killing blow.
Faced with this thunderous attack, Kael did not even bother to look up. He was still idly toying with the Den Den Mushi in his hand.
"Gishishishi."
Moria's eerie laugh rang out as he stepped forward. His massive frame planted itself firmly between Kael and the falling Vice Admiral.
As his arms spread wide, several inky black shadows burst from the ground like living things, twisting into bat shaped masses of darkness that hurled themselves fearlessly at Kuzan mid air.
Pop, pop, pop.
The shadow creatures were pulverized the instant they met Kuzan's Haki clad fist, but they managed to slow his attack for the briefest moment.
In that tiny sliver of time, his movement stuttered ever so slightly.
At their level, victory or defeat could turn on that single instant.
Clang.
A clear, ringing note of steel cut across the battlefield.
At some point Mihawk had already grasped the black blade on his back. A focused streak of emerald green sword aura flew from his swing, arriving at Kuzan's landing point almost before the sound of the draw reached their ears.
The slash was so fast it seemed to ignore the limit of sight, already in front of its target the moment the sword was swung.
Kuzan's expression shifted. He twisted in mid air with all his strength, barely dodging the lethal strike.
Boom.
The emerald sword aura slammed into the ground behind him, carving a yawning chasm into the charred ruins.
Kuzan landed lightly, boots skidding a short distance across the scorched earth.
His gaze passed over Moria's massive shoulders and locked, like a sheet of winter ice, onto the man who had remained relaxed and smiling from beginning to end.
Kael Grylls.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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