After a long while, the battle finally began to subside.
The clash between the King of Jacob Kingdom and the heavily armored warrior had reached its conclusion.
During the fierce fight, King Nathan's ornate armor was shattered, and his undergarments were soaked crimson from both his own blood and that of his enemies.
After plunging his slender sword deep into his opponent, his haki and stamina were completely exhausted.
He leaned weakly against the half-collapsed castle wall, gasping for breath.
Clutching the shattered bones of his shoulder, his bloodshot eyes glared at the figure advancing toward him, war hammer in hand.
The opponent was also covered in blood, a slender sword embedded in her chest, her throat cut, and the gas mask she wore torn away halfway, revealing her true face.
King Nathan stared at her exposed white hair, her crimson eyes, the soft contours of her face, and her rough, cracked skin.
A mocking smile tugged at his bloodied lips. "I didn't lose to you. I lost to time. Twenty years ago, I could have killed every single one of you on my own…"
The bloodied eight-bladed war hammer descended. Steel collided with flesh, spraying blood across the castle wall, where it slowly dripped down.
She, encased in heavy armor, gave her opponent no chance for words. Ignoring the searing pain coursing through her body, she swung the war hammer repeatedly, relentless and mechanical.
Her cracked lips pressed tight under the mask, eyes blazing with unending hatred. She unleashed the accumulated vengeance of generations.
Only when the spray of blood stained half the castle wall and the king was reduced to a mangled mess did she pause. She stumbled backward, collapsing onto the grass.
As King Nathan had said, he had only lost to time, to age.
This armored woman had not defeated King Nathan, nor had she inflicted a mortal wound. It was her youth and resilience that allowed her to wear him down completely.
Afterward, her vision blurred. She stared vacantly at the sky as memories flashed through her mind.
She knew this was what her grandfather had called the "final scene before death."
Her body was in terrible condition. Not only was it riddled with wounds, but a lung disease gnawed at her life force like a malevolent spirit.
Her weakening body reminded her that her time was short. That was why, upon learning of the children who had been killed while fetching water, she had launched her merciless attack.
It was only after a long while that she heard terrified screams from all directions. Soldiers panicked at the king's collapse, and a few citizens she had raised watched in fear.
Her cracked lips, parched from dehydration, whispered silently, "Mother, grandfather… I could not become the ruler you expected me to be…"
In the dim world, she saw her mother, who had left when she was a child, and her grandfather, gone with regrets, believing he had failed his people and friends.
Sudden, urgent cries echoed all around. She sensed her people gathering toward her location.
But she was too weak to respond. She closed her eyes with effort.
"The strongest enemy… is dead. The rest is up to you…"
Before her eyes fully shut, she glimpsed a figure: short, pale gold hair and snow-white wings.
Bathed in warm golden morning light, he looked like a divine angel, untouchable and sacred.
Golden particles of light swirled around him, drifting down like falling leaves, merging into the bloodied, heavy armor.
Meanwhile, tens of nautical miles from Jacob Kingdom, a lesser-known conflict unfolded at sea.
The wind blew, causing the crossed-sword skull flag to snap in the breeze.
Figures moved across the deck, radiating immense presence, their eyes fixed on two warships in the distance.
On the warships, Marine Corps soldiers gripped swords, rifles, and slowly rotating turrets aimed at a drifting three-masted ship.
Vice Admiral Gumer of Marineford no longer appeared calm as usual. His expression was stern and highly alert.
"The rumors are true. The intern aboard Roger's ship has grown this powerful and somehow reached the East Sea."
Suddenly, the pirate ship's cabin door opened. A red-haired figure wearing a straw hat stepped out into the sunlight.
"What happened on that island for even a Marine Vice Admiral to arrive?" Red-haired Shanks pressed his hat and walked across the crew toward the bow of the ship.
Gazing at the two massive warships ahead, a shadow of gloom flickered in his eyes. "Back then, Captain Roger destroyed the Jacob Kingdom army. With Canaan III's strength at the time, he should have been able to reclaim parts of the plains and prosper.
"But what is happening now?"
"After we left, did Jacob Kingdom gain some extraordinarily powerful force?"
At that moment, the warship's loudspeakers transmitted Vice Admiral Gumer's voice from Marine Headquarters.
"Red-Haired Shanks, how does someone like you end up here?"
Shanks slowly lifted his head, eyes scanning across the sea to fix on Vice Admiral Gumer. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his famed sword, Griffon, his expression grave.
"Step aside, Marine Corps."
As his words fell, an invisible tidal wave swept across the ocean, instantly stirring a hurricane and lifting waves several meters high.
On the distant warship, the waves slammed against the hull, violently shaking the ship. Marine soldiers fell instantly, unconscious.
For a moment, only a handful of people remained standing on the decks of both warships.
Gumer's eyes widened in disbelief. Instinctively, he gripped his katana, whispering to himself, "That is Conqueror's Haki."
He had not expected that even Roger's ship intern possessed such innate presence.
Gumer felt a chill on his scalp. If Red-Haired Shanks had this talent, what about the hidden blue-haired youth?
Meanwhile…
"Familiar rooftops…" In a stone house on the plateau, a young girl with white hair and sharp black demon horns slowly opened her eyes.
"Am I… still alive?"
Instinctively, she propped herself up, sitting on the bed. She scanned the room and noticed the armor she inherited from her grandfather.
Its bloodstains had been wiped clean, but the terrifying cracks remained.
A trace of melancholy passed through her eyes. With the plateau's current technology, the armor could not be repaired.
She lifted the patchy, yellowed, sea-scented blanket and slowly stood. Approaching the cracked mirror on the wooden table, she studied her reflection.
Seeing her rough, cracked skin, she finally realized that surviving had a reason.
Clatter. A heavy object fell. She instinctively turned her head.
"Your Majesty?!" Several frail women, their skin rough and cracked, stared at her in shock and joy.
The girl looked down at a woman shorter than her by a head and couldn't help but smile gently.
"It's me. I'm still alive…"