February, Sea Circle Calendar 1469
Totto Land – Cake Island
In a quiet courtyard tucked behind the towering cake-castle, Argus and Newgate sat side by side, each puffing away—cigarettes for Argus, a thick cigar for Newgate.
They had stepped out not for celebration, but to breathe. To collect themselves. The Edward family stood at the precipice of something grand—a new beginning. A bloodline forged not of chance, but will.
But peace never came.
Instead of calming their nerves, the silence only made the air heavier. It pressed down on them like gravity.
Argus was anxious. This was his first child—not just in this life, but across two. And not just any child. A child of his deepest investment. A daughter of the Red Dragon King's bloodline.
Newgate was no better. For all his bravado and myth, he was a man untested in the only battlefield that truly mattered—family, blood, legacy. This wasn't a son adopted from the aftermath of war. This was flesh. This was continuation.
Thirty minutes. Thirty cigarettes. Forty cigars.
Even monsters had their limits. The smoke blurred their vision. Not from nicotine—but dread.
Then—
ROOOOAAARRRR!!!
A bestial cry erupted from within the castle. Not human. Not natural. A roar that split the heavens.
Time froze.
"Fuck!" Argus spat, bolting to his feet.
"Who the hell's threatening my niece or nephew?!" Newgate bellowed, his Conqueror's Haki flaring like a tidal wave. The ground cracked beneath his boots.
They stormed back into the castle, leaving scorched tobacco in their wake.
Outside the birthing chamber, chaos had seized the air. Servants clutched walls for support. Midwives trembled. Even guards hesitated to move forward.
A young maid rushed to meet them, face ghostly pale.
"Lord Argus! Lord Whitebeard! The birth was successful, but—but something strange happened! The air turned red, and then—"
Argus's heart stopped.
"Could it be...?" he muttered.
He turned to Newgate. "Brother, stay here. Watch the others. Just in case."
Newgate nodded, face grim.
Argus pushed the doors open.
Inside, the world had changed.
Not in sight, but in feel.
The air buzzed. Not with tension—but power. Heavy. Ancient. Wild.
The delivery team stood paralyzed.
Except one.
"You all done pissing yourselves yet?" came the voice. Sharp. Sardonic.
Dr. Kureha, impossibly youthful at eighty, stood with arms folded and one eyebrow raised. Her gloves were still bloody.
"You boys are lucky I'm here," she added, scoffing at the trembling staff. "This isn't a delivery—it's a damn dragon baptism."
Serena lay limp on the bed, eyes fluttering open as Argus approached.
"Husband..."
"Don't move," Argus said, kneeling beside her. "You did everything right. Just rest."
She smiled weakly before slipping into unconsciousness.
Then—
Fwoooooooosh!
A crimson blaze filled the room.
From the center of the air, a phantom beast descended—a Western dragon, colossal and majestic, made of flame and aura. Its scales shimmered like molten rubies. Its wings stretched the width of the chamber.
Its roar echoed into the soul.
Every instinct in the room screamed run.
Except one.
Dr. Kureha stood unmoved. Hands on hips.
"Hmph. I've seen weapons activated with less noise."
The dragon's gaze turned—not toward her—but to the infant in her arms.
The baby, swaddled, eyes open wide, stared back at the phantom.
Then—
The dragon began to shrink. Spiraling inward. Crimson light condensed into a single stream. It raced into the child's chest.
A symbol burned into her skin. A rune. Circular. Layered. Etched in gold and red. The Seal of the Red Dragon.
Silence.
Kureha exhaled.
"Well then," she muttered, "guess it's official. Your kid's a monster."
Argus stepped forward slowly. "Let me hold her."
Kureha passed the child to him without fanfare.
She was warm. Quiet. Alert.
Argus cradled her like she was made of glass. His breath hitched.
Not from fear. From something deeper.
This is real.
He turned to Kureha. "Status?"
"Serena's fine. Just exhausted. The baby's... well, if she sneezes, she might level a wall. Bone density, muscle fibers, reflexes—all off the charts. By conservative guess, she's over a hundred times stronger than a normal newborn. Maybe more."
Argus blinked. "A girl."
"A girl," Kureha confirmed. "A damn powerful one."
He chuckled under his breath. "Then the world just got a little more dangerous."
Outside the Chamber
Gasps rippled through the waiting hall as the roar had struck.
Sally staggered slightly. Shella gripped her shoulder. "Steady."
"What the hell was that?" Donna whispered, cradling her belly.
Mina's lips trembled. "It... it felt like haki. But it wasn't."
Sharon frowned. "No... That was something older. Something wild."
The Snake Princess narrowed her eyes. "That was bloodline power."
A moment later, the doors opened.
Newgate stood before them, posture steel-straight.
Then Argus stepped out, a baby in his arms.
"She's healthy," he announced. "Serena is resting. All is well."
The tension snapped. Tears. Smiles. Relief.
Shella moved first, gently touching the baby's head.
"She looks like Serena."
"No," Newgate said softly, peering over Argus's shoulder.
"She looks like an Edward."
That night, feasts were canceled.
Not out of mourning—but reverence.
Totto Land did not sleep. It held its breath.
For a child had been born.
A child with the fire of a king.
The strength of monsters.
And the blood of Edward Argus.
(CHAPTER END)