A few days later.
South Blue, Sorbet Kingdom.
Late at night.
The young King Bulldog was jolted awake by his bodyguard's urgent shouts, groggily roused from his dreams.
By the time he'd thrown on a robe and opened the bedroom door, his bodyguard Bekori—a youth of fifteen or sixteen, even younger than him—was waiting outside, face taut with panic.
Bulldog rubbed his bleary eyes, yawned, and asked in bewilderment, "Bekori, what urgent business brings you here at this hour?"
"Your Majesty, terrible news! We… we seem to be under attack!"
"What? Attacked? W-what exactly do you mean? Explain yourself!"
Bekori's answer snapped the king fully awake.
Bekori, sweating profusely, explained, "It's the Lawless Land. A few minutes ago the guards there heard a string of explosions. They think it might be shelling…"
"Shelling?!"
At first, hearing it was the Lawless Land, Bulldog felt a flicker of relief.
That district was Sorbet Kingdom's underbelly, home to unruly thieves, thugs, and refugees.
It bred constant, vicious crime and drew endless wrath from the realm.
Normally the royal family left the place to its own devices.
But if someone was shelling it…
The situation turned grim.
Whatever its reputation, the Lawless Land was still Sorbet territory.
To bombard a kingdom's soil in the open was tantamount to a declaration of war.
Bulldog's face darkened. Nervously he asked, "Have we identified the culprit? Raiders from nearby pirate crews, or a military move by the Kingdom of Baltan?"
The Kingdom of Baltan was their neighbor.
In recent years Sorbet's desire to join the World Government had drawn Baltan's hostility.
Lately Baltan had used flimsy pretexts to harass and sanction Sorbet—tourism, shipping, mining, every sector under siege.
The root lay in a key clause of World Government membership:
Any Affiliated Nations that paid its celestial tribute could declare war on non-member states without World Government interference.
Conversely, if a non-member dared offend an affiliated kingdom, it would suffer World Government sanctions—including severe military reprisals.
Therefore…
Though Sorbet had never dreamed of exploiting the rule to invade Baltan,
Baltan clearly saw things differently.
"I don't yet know, sire; inquiries continue! But the bombardment hasn't stopped. Please decide at once—the Royal Guard is mustering, awaiting your order!"
"Still shelling?" Bulldog's heart sank.
Pirates would never announce themselves with such a barrage.
Nor would they waste firepower on the Lawless Land.
With guns that heavy, why not strike the capital directly?
Sorbet's military was notoriously weak, even by South Blue standards.
The thought weighed on him.
Could Baltan's army truly be advancing?
If so, Sorbet was doomed.
Its forces were far inferior to Baltan's.
Once war began, countless citizens would perish.
The prospect rattled the young king—enthroned only a few months—cold sweat beading his forehead.
Just then a regal woman in a pale-yellow fringed gown stepped from a side hall. Fixing Bulldog with a stern gaze, she rebuked, "Compose yourself, Bulldog!"
"You are this kingdom's sovereign. Whatever happens, you must remain calm. If you lose your head, what of your people?"
"But… what if Baltan's hosts are truly at our gates—"
She cut him short.
"Then we meet them! Even if their army is stronger, they cannot seize the capital in a day. We fight while petitioning the World Government—offer to become an Affiliated Nations in exchange for mediation."
She drew closer, eyes hard.
"Remember: you are king. Show absolute composure—understood?"
"Yes, Mother." Bulldog lowered his head, ashamed.
Bekori, seeing the queen mother, quickly bowed.
"Your servant greets the Queen Mother."
"Enough. Come—let us see who dares attack us."
Several dozen minutes later…
Queen Mother Connie and King Bulldog, escorted by hundreds of royal guards, reached the Lawless Land's shoreline—and froze.
The blasts they'd mistaken for cannon fire were nothing of the sort.
No enemy fleets loomed.
Not a pirate sail dotted the sea.
Yet explosions thundered before them, fierce and unrelenting.
Hundreds gaped skyward as balloon-like shapes—each resembling a bear's paw—howled in from the distant horizon.
One after another they slammed into the ground, leaving paw-shaped craters.
Even more stunning: inside every crater lay a person—men, women, old, young—delivered here by this bizarre method from who-knew-where.
Despite impacts violent enough to gouge the earth, the arrivals were unharmed.
True, Connie saw existing injuries on some, but those were clearly old wounds.
While they stared, another dozen paws smashed down, depositing more people upon the shore.
Hundreds of such craters already pocked the beach.
Far away the piercing shriek of those strange paw-bubbles continued.
The surreal spectacle left Connie and her retinue rooted in disbelief.