Mamba and Rengoku slipped quietly out of the banquet hall and made their way to a balcony where the evening sky of Alubarna stretched wide and clear.
Servants had already prepared two chairs, and on a small table between them rested a single bottle of the finest wine.
"Do you drink wine?" Mamba asked.
"I can drink," Rengoku replied.
"Good, that's a relief."
Mamba poured into two crystal glasses, handing one to Rengoku. They clinked lightly, then each took a slow sip. Rengoku was no connoisseur, but even he could taste the deep, rich flavor of a truly fine vintage.
"Tell me—how does Alabasta appear in your eyes?" Mamba's voice carried curiosity.
"In what sense, Your Highness?"
"Broadly. You've roamed the New World, crossed the seas, seen strength and chaos alike. I'd like to hear your perspective."
"The streets were peaceful. The people's faces were bright with smiles. To the unknowing eye, one would never believe that a civil war which claimed over a million lives had raged here only months ago."
Mamba smirked. "Is that all?"
"…No."
"Speak freely. I won't take offense."
"The level of your soldiers… is sadly lacking," Rengoku said plainly.
At last, Mamba's expression eased into satisfaction. "I thought so. Even you can see it—compared to the powers of the New World, the strength of Alabasta's army falls short, far short."
He remembered well the helplessness he felt when Crocodile struck, when he himself had rallied rebel forces out of desperation. The gulf between their soldiers and the wider world's warriors had been undeniable.
"I've heard you are under suspension," Mamba continued. "Your authority as a Marine stripped for now. What do you plan to do in the meantime?"
"Devote myself to training," Rengoku answered without hesitation.
"In that case…" Mamba sipped again, then leaned forward. "Would you consider overseeing the training of the Royal Army, even once? Lend us your strength."
"You wish me to train Alabasta's army?" Rengoku asked directly.
Mamba nodded. "Yes. I will repay you however I can. Is there anything you desire?"
Rengoku thought in silence. With his suspension, no rule forbade him from aiding an allied kingdom's military. But his time was limited—he already had his own path laid before him.
Seeing his hesitation, Mamba pressed gently. "Is it too much to ask?"
Finally, Rengoku spoke. "Your Highness, earlier today I saw the Sword Dance. Do you have other traditions like it?"
Mamba's eyes brightened. "Indeed. Alabasta preserves three sacred arts: the Twin-Blade Dance of the Sun God, the Sword Dance of the God of Rebirth, and the Triumph Blade Hymn of the God of War."
"So there are three…" Rengoku nodded firmly. "If possible, I would like to learn all three dances and their accompanying music."
Though unusual, Mamba agreed. "If I grant you this, will you in turn guide our soldiers?"
"Allow me to apologize first," Rengoku said earnestly. "I cannot stay long enough to personally train the entire army. My next mission already looms."
He raised his head, his voice steady. "But until I master these three dances, I will remain in Alabasta and train a chosen few—no more than ten. They will become the elite who can pass on my lessons to the rest."
"So… you would shape ten high officers, who in turn would train the soldiers?"
"Precisely." Rengoku nodded. "I can share some of the martial arts I learned in the Marines, techniques from the New World, and methods of conditioning. I'll divide it into beginner, intermediate, and advanced curricula, tailored to each man's limits. Will that be acceptable, Your Highness?"
Mamba judged that Rengoku's conditions were more than worthwhile.
"Then… I shall count on you. Can the training begin tomorrow?"
"Yes! The sooner we begin, the better."
"Very well. It may be a short period, but I'll entrust them to you."
"And I'll give them everything I can."
....
The very next morning, while the King and several ministers were still nursing heavy hangovers, Prince Mamba appeared at the guest residence with a handpicked group of Alabasta's finest warriors.
"Vice Admiral Rengoku, when shall we begin?"
At his summons, Rengoku stepped out at once.
"Right now. Please, lead me to the training grounds!"
Mamba grinned at Rengoku's decisiveness and took the lead.
"To the drill yard! Move the soldiers' morning practice outside!"
They covered the distance to the spacious parade ground in less than three minutes—fitting, given that each man was a seasoned fighter.
Rengoku looked over the ten standing before him and spoke:
"Your Highness, you intend to join the training personally?"
"Of course," Mamba replied. "Unlike my elder brother, I have trained in martial arts since my youth. If the men sweat and bleed for this, a prince should do no less."
"Your Highness…" The nine gathered elites were moved by his words.
"From this moment on, all of you are trainees. Rank and titles mean nothing here!"
"That is exactly what I hoped for," Mamba said firmly, giving Rengoku the permission to drop formality.
"Good. Then let us begin with introductions. Since this is military training, speak of your combat strengths. Prince Mamba, if you will start."
"Nefertari Mamba, 39 years old. Over thirty years of martial training. Skilled in guerrilla tactics and the sword."
"Pell, 33. Falcon Zoan user. Adept with the blade."
"Chaka, 39. Jackal Zoan user. Proficient in swordsmanship."
"Hyouta, 35. Member of the Tsumegeri Guard. Wields a massive greatsword."
"Bram, 35. Tsumegeri Guard. Specializes in long-axe combat."
"…Arlo."
"…Barrel."
The introductions were swift. One prince, two lieutenants of the royal guard, four from the Tsumegeri elite, and three carefully selected Royal Army officers.
Rengoku nodded. "From today, I will teach you martial arts of the Marines, techniques from the New World, and conditioning drills. Because the time is short, I'll cut straight to the essence. The curriculum will be divided into beginner, intermediate, and advanced. If you master these, you will be able to raise the entire army's strength. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Excellent! Then strip off those cumbersome robes and give me ten laps of this field—full sprint! Move!"
"Sir!"
And so, on the training grounds of Alabasta's Royal Army, a new kind of "hell" began to unfold.
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