Finally, the seventh day came.
It was not a happy day. It was just another day of the long sad nightmare for the people of these four kingdom.
The world of the four kingdoms now had its own terrible rhythm. The loud clang of the bell woke everyone up. The slow walk to the town square for their single loaf of bread began again. And the long hard day of work in the hot forges, the dark mines, and the noisy factories started once again.
The people's bodies had gotten used to the constant biting pain of hunger and tiredness.
Their minds had gotten used to the heavy feeling of sadness. Hope was a word they did not even remember anymore. They did not think about a better future anymore. They only thought about surviving until the next morning's bread. They were like ghosts moving for their own lives without any feeling at all.
Fresta Kingdom , North Blue
The blacksmith stood in front of the forge.
The heat, which used to feel like an old friend, now just felt like a punishment. His big strong body now became thin and weak. He could see his own ribs through his shirt. His arms, which used to be able to lift a giant hammer all day, now felt like they were made of heavy wet sand.
He lifted the hammer. It felt so heavy. He brought it down on the glowing piece of metal.
CLANG.
He lifted it again.
CLANG.
He had been doing this for seven days. He had lost track of time. His life was now just the bell, the bread, the hammer, and the forced intimation with his wife then a scary silence of his empty home at night.
As he worked, his mind which was usually too tired to think, started to remember things.
He remembered his first son, the one who had believed in the revolution. The boy had been full of fire and hope. He had joined the revolutionaries to fight the king, and he had been killed in a battle. The blacksmith had been so sad but also been a little bit proud. He had thought his son died for a good reason and for a better world.
Then he remembered his second son, the one who was shot by the puppet soldiers just a week ago. He had been killed for trying to protect his own family. He had died for nothing. And his son's wife, had died with him in the hands of revolutionary army soldiers.
And then he thought about Elara, his little granddaughter. He remembered her bright happy laugh. He remembered the feeling of her small hand in his big, rough one.
Now she was gone, taken away by the very same revolution his first son had died for.
The blacksmith stopped hammering.
The soldiers was at the other end of this big, noisy room. No one was watching him for a second. He leaned against the stone wall, the heavy hammer hanging from his weak hand.
He closed his eyes.
He was not a man who prayed very often. But now, in the middle of all this pain and sadness, he felt like he had nothing else left. He didn't pray out loud. He just spoke the words silently in his heart.
'God, if you are there,' he thought, and it felt like his heart was breaking all over again. 'I don't know if you can hear me. I have lost so much. I lost one son fighting for this revolution. I lost my other son and his wife because of this revolution. My little granddaughter has been taken away by them. Me and my wife… we are suffering so much every day. This is a living hell for us.'
He took a shaky breath. The air was hot and full of smoke.
'I am not asking for anything for myself,' he prayed. 'I am old and broken. My life is over. But please… please just let my wife and my granddaughter be safe. Let them have a happy and peaceful life. Is that too much to ask for? Please… just let them be safe.'
At this moment a tears ran down from his face.
It was the first time he had cried in a very long time.
He opened his eyes and picked up his hammer. He had to keep working. A prayer would not change anything.
Nothing would ever change.
But at that very same moment, something was changing.
The ships of Cipher Pol had arrived at the port of the Fresta Kingdom. They had come silently in the morning light, like ghosts appearing out of the mist.
On the deck of the main ship, Imu stood and looked at the sad quiet city. He could feel the misery of the people with his Observation Haki. It was a thick, heavy blanket of sadness and hate.
The CP0 agents in their white suits and masks stood behind him and waiting for his orders.
"Start" Imu said in his cold voice.
And just like that the saviors arrived.