"What's going on? What happened to Foosha Village? Who are all these guys?" Luffy asked, his brow furrowing.
Drake, Ace, and Sabo stepped up beside him, their expressions turning thoughtful. This head count was far from ordinary. The standing army of the entire Goa Kingdom numbered around a hundred thousand at most.
Yet down below, a sweeping glance revealed a sea of heads covering the hills, easily numbering forty to fifty thousand troops.
Nearly half of the Goa Kingdom's entire military had been mobilized.
Their uniforms were the distinct liveries unique to the royal army of the Goa Kingdom, completely unchanged after all these years. Sabo recognized them in an instant.
"It's the Goa Kingdom's army!"
"Only... what on earth are they doing in Foosha Village?"
While Sabo and the others pondered the situation, Luffy burst into a laugh and shot forward without hesitation.
"Instead of guessing, won't we find out if we just drop down and ask them?"
Leaving the three of them behind, they exchanged glances and broke into fond smiles. That was Luffy's temperament through and through.
"True enough. That's always the fastest way!" Sabo nodded. The three of them followed closely behind, streaking like arrows toward the perimeter of Foosha Village.
Their arrival descended like a gale force, tearing through the airspace directly above the village and kicking up a backdraft that knocked back an entire swath of soldiers.
The four of them, originally arriving with questions, fell dead silent the instant their feet touched down.
The familiar cottages, the familiar dirt roads, the familiar villagers, everything they remembered...
Luffy and his brothers slipped into a daze as the warm, long-buried memories tucked away in the deepest recesses of their hearts flooded their minds.
In that singular moment, they felt as though this long voyage across the world had stretched on for far too long. Sabo felt this truth most acutely of all.
Twelve whole years had slipped by since the day he was torn from the East Blue.
He could no longer count the exact tally of days.
Though his memories had once been lost to him, the lingering ache of drifting far from his homeland, unable to return for so many years, coiled around his heart in an instant.
It left his chest heaving, unable to settle for a long time.
Years ago, the four of them had set their ambitions toward the sea, seeking the dream they yearned for above all else: freedom!
In that dark kingdom, the stench of corruption and rotting decay that choked every corner had filled them with intense disgust, driving them to escape.
Sabo especially so.
Ace and the others possessed carefree temperaments, men who could face the threat of death with a breezy smile.
Yet Sabo, born into the aristocracy, had been well-read and perceptive from an early age; with a single discerning glance, he had seen clean through the festering reality of this kingdom.
Young and powerless, he could not overthrow the regime, wishing only to flee that sickening place.
Yet the bonds of brotherhood had given him pause; after all, there were companions he could never leave behind.
Their beloved little brother, Luffy!
Even now, the day the Celestial Dragon fired upon his small vessel with cold, heartless cannons remained vividly etched into his memory.
And today, when they stood upon the soil of this kingdom once more, he commanded the power to reshape the entire world.
Beside him stood three brothers who reigned at the absolute summit of all pirates!
Everything here... was about to change!
"Sabo, if I remember correctly, the current King of the Goa Kingdom should be that adopted brother of yours, right?" Ace spoke up suddenly.
The brother he spoke of was not one of them, but Sterry—the boy adopted by Sabo's noble parents to preserve their influence and status within high society after Sabo's supposed death.
The purpose of this massive military deployment was obvious to them at a glance.
Within the perimeter of Foosha Village stood a large gathering of people clad in the exact same ragged uniforms as the rebel squad they had rescued earlier.
In other words, these villagers and refugees were the so-called "traitors."
Since that was the case, it was best to leave this matter to Sabo himself.
"Yeah. I'll make a personal trip to the royal palace in a little while," Sabo nodded.
Right then, someone among the ranks below barked an aggressive shout toward Drake and the others: "Hey! Who the hell are you bastards?!"
"If you're just bystanders sticking your noses where they don't belong, clear out right this second and I might let this slide! But if you're looking to play heroes..."
The man drew a massive broadsword, glaring viciously at Drake and the brothers with an overbearing, murderous sneer.
The sudden arrival of the four brothers had thrown their forward ranks into complete disarray.
Anyone with eyes could tell that Drake's group was extraordinary, and certainly not a band of pushovers.
After all, hovering through the open sky was a spectacle these soldiers had never witnessed firsthand, even if wild rumors from the Grand Line spoke of Devil Fruit powers that granted the gift of flight.
"Are you the commander of this army?" Sabo met the speaking man's gaze directly. From the man's attire, it was obvious his rank set him apart from the rank-and-file.
The common infantry wore standard olive-green and white uniforms crafted from cheap, flimsy cloth that offered practically zero ballistic or cutting protection.
It was essentially useless in a real skirmish.
This man, however, was different. Appearing in his early thirties, he donned a suit of crimson plate armor that stood out vividly against the crowd.
Judging by the deferential attitudes of the surrounding troops, it wasn't hard to deduce that this man was the commanding general of the army, the principal architect of this operation.
"That's right! And who the hell are you?!" The commander's brow knitted tightly. As Sabo turned his full face toward him, a nagging prickle of familiarity washed over the general.
That sensation brought an unsettling wave of dread with it.
He had expected this operation to go off without a hitch. Not only had they mobilized royal forces, but they had also hired nearby pirate crews to secure the perimeter.
The rebels huddled inside Foosha Village numbered barely over a thousand.
Wiping them out completely should have been effortless.
These ingrates in Foosha Village had gotten far too arrogant, strutting around without giving the crown an ounce of face simply because they had Marine hero Garp backing them.
The thought made the commander's suppressed fury boil over. "I don't care who you are—leave this valley immediately, or the Goa Kingdom will ensure you have no place left to bury your corpses!"
With that, the commander turned his head toward a woman standing to his right.
She possessed a slender, alluring figure, flawless porcelain skin as smooth as curdled milk, and large, watery eyes that glistened with charm.
A breathtaking beauty capable of stopping any man in his tracks with a single glance.
"Lady Alvida, let's strike together!" The commander mustered every ounce of bluster he had, brandishing his broadsword and stepping forward with such force that a shallow crack splintered across the flagstones.
He looked every bit the picture of "world-shaking dominance"!
The external reinforcement they had hired for this campaign was none other than Alvida, a prominent pirate from the East Blue who was now considered a "super-pirate" who had survived the Grand Line and returned alive.
Taking down a few arrogant runts would surely be child's play for her.
Yet in the next heartbeat, he noticed that Alvida—who had previously guaranteed with absolute certainty that her presence would sweep away any obstacle—was standing completely motionless.
In fact, she was trembling.
Her strange reaction baffled not only the commander, but also the pirate crew standing behind her.
"Hey! We agreed on double pay beforehand! You have to fight!" the commander snapped. Seeing that Alvida still didn't budge an inch, his heart sank.
He didn't know what kind of game she was playing, but she was clearly reneging on their contract!
There was no time to dissect her motives. The arrow was on the bowstring; he had to loose it. Gripping his broadsword, he leaped up, vaulting onto the rooftop of a roadside tavern.
Pumping power into his legs, he launched himself straight toward Sabo.
"All hail the General! Victory to the General!"
Seeing their commander lead the charge with such "valiance," the soldiers below roared in collective exhilaration, chanting his praises at the top of their lungs.
The cheers grew deafening as men thrust their weapons into the air.
None of them noticed that Alvida was staring up at their rushing general as if looking at an absolute imbecile.
Her gaze... was like looking at a corpse.