The middle of the Grand Line. Atop the Red Line. The Holy Land—Mary Geoise.
Generally speaking, to pass from the first half of the Grand Line into the New World, there were only two routes.
The first was to cross the Red Line via Mary Geoise.
The second was to descend ten thousand meters beneath the sea, pass through Fish-Man Island, and traverse the massive cavern beneath the Red Line.
The first route required submitting a request to the World Government and directly passing through the Holy Land situated at the summit of the Red Line. Though the application process was expensive and time-consuming, it was safe.
But obviously, that path had nothing to do with pirates.
As the residence of the "descendants of the gods," the Celestial Dragons, and the headquarters of the World Government, Mary Geoise permanently stationed a Marine Admiral. In addition, there were Marine garrisons, CP organizations, the Holy Land's guard forces, and countless other security personnel.
Choosing the first route was tantamount to suicide. Any pirate with a functioning brain would choose the second option.
That meant coating the ship in Yarukiman Mangrove resin, diving to ten thousand meters below the sea to Fish-Man Island, and passing through the enormous hole beneath the Red Line to enter the New World.
Although that path involved Sea Kings, possible attacks from fish-men, and even undersea volcanic eruptions and other natural disasters, making it highly dangerous, compared to facing a Marine Admiral head-on, most would still choose it.
At least the former offered a chance of survival. The latter... well, not everyone was Luffy—with connections and absurd luck.
In the first half of the Grand Line, even Supernova pirates with bounties exceeding one hundred million were mere rookies. Let alone an Admiral—many of them would struggle even against the human weapons known as Pacifistas.
Panting heavily, a Marine's urgent report echoed within the Room of Authority inside Pangaea Castle at the center of Mary Geoise.
"Report: All bubble elevators used to ascend and descend from Mary Geoise have been destroyed by the rebels! The rebels have already breached the entrance to the lifting staircase!"
"Mm. Understood. You may withdraw. Instruct the Marine commanders stationed in each sector to hold their respective districts at all costs."
Still seated calmly upon a plush sofa, Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, with his curly white hair, bushy beard, and flat cap, leaned on his wooden cane as he spoke without the slightest ripple of emotion.
"Yes!"
Creak—
Purururu...
Just after the Marine withdrew from the hall, the Den Den Mushi on the table suddenly began ringing.
Purururu...
Click!
"Is there a result? Where are Sakazuki's forces now?" asked Saint Marcus Mars, his long, straight white hair falling over his shoulders as he picked up the Den Den Mushi with a commanding tone.
"..."
The Den Den Mushi remained silent for a long moment. Not only him, but the other four seated Five Elders also frowned in confusion.
"CP0! What is going on? Answer! Has something happened to the Navy, or were you intercepted by the rebels?" demanded Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, the bald elder in white robes, glasses glinting as he rested a hand upon his katana.
Hearing the displeasure in their tone through the Den Den Mushi, the CP0 agent stationed at Naval Headquarters in the New World took a deep breath and spoke gravely.
"The Navy is still mobilizing. It requires time."
"As long as they are returning, that is fine. Tell Sakazuki to move quickly. There is no need to worry about the New World—abandoning it is acceptable if necessary—"
Hm?
Mid-sentence, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro suddenly stopped, his voice cutting off as though someone had seized his throat.
The others turned their heads, brows deeply furrowed as they stared at the Den Den Mushi.
Had they misheard?
"What did you say? Still mobilizing? Still at headquarters in the New World?" Saint Shepherd Ju Peter's voice rose sharply.
"What is Sakazuki doing?! Put Sakazuki on the line—we will ask him personally!"
Click!
"It's me."
The Den Den Mushi's appearance shifted, the familiar Marine cap replacing the mask-like features. Mimicking the speaker's expression perfectly, Sakazuki's deep voice echoed through the hall.
"Sakazuki, what exactly is going on? You have been delaying this repeatedly. Even the CP0 we sent has arrived. Why have you not yet set out?" asked Saint Marcus Mars sternly.
"Nothing unusual," Sakazuki replied calmly, as if discussing something as mundane as eating or drinking.
"I am responsible for the Navy. The mobilization of troops and supplies takes time. The garrisons at the various G-Branches throughout the New World—"
"Who do you think you are?! Do you not wish to keep your position?!" roared Saint Topman Warcury, the elder with the twin drooping mustache and the birthmark upon his forehead.
"Responsible for the Navy? Everything you have was granted by the World Government!"
Sakazuki frowned, suppressing the anger that nearly drove him to openly rebel.
"The territory in the New World was secured through immense sacrifice by the Navy. According to your orders, should I simply hand it over to pirates?"
"Sakazuki, mind your words! The Navy is merely a subordinate institution of the World Government. Do not reverse the order of authority! This is unacceptable! Sakazuki, I order you—cease all operations in the New World immediately!"
"Understood. I will return to reinforce—but I require preparation time," Sakazuki said, his expression darkening, his tone stiff.
"The rebels' strength cannot be underestimated. If we rush back without preparation, what purpose does that serve? To let them die in vain? I will not stand by and watch my subordinates throw away their lives!"
With that, Sakazuki abruptly hung up the Den Den Mushi.
Staring at the disconnected snail, the Five Elders exchanged glances, their expressions filled with displeasure.
Such defiance. Such blatant disobedience. That "Akainu" had grown too bold.
"It seems our decision two years ago was mistaken. Once the rebels are suppressed, the position of Fleet Admiral must be replaced."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"Agreed."
"The Navy grows increasingly unruly. Agreed."
Though the enemy had already reached their doorstep, the Five Elders remained unconcerned.
Because—someone stood above them.
"Gentlemen, let us go and pay our respects to Imu-sama. The world requires cleansing once more."
...
At that very moment, outside Pangaea Castle, the so-called impregnable and absolutely safe Holy Land—Mary Geoise—had once again fallen into the flames of war.
Following the fall of the Sabaody Archipelago, the massive port city before the Red Line—Red Port—had also collapsed in short order.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Endless explosions resounded, reaching the ears of every Celestial Dragon. Shells occasionally struck their residences.
In that instant, the resplendent golden architecture of Mary Geoise resembled an exquisite painting being torn apart. Countless crimson fireballs rose like blooming flames, dazzling and searing to behold.
The savage pleasure of destruction laid bare the violence of war.
Palaces once adorned with pearls and jade became broken ruins. Lush gardens transformed into blazing infernos. The raging flames stained the blue sky and white clouds with the hues of hell.
The "automatic" streets—pushed by slaves—had ceased to operate. Upon them lay countless wounded soldiers, writhing in agony. Shrill screams echoed across the land.
Countless doctors in white coats moved among them.
The hospitals assigned to the garrison had long since reached capacity, and the Celestial Dragons arrogantly refused to provide any of their residences for the wounded. With no other choice, the broad Avenue of Audience had been converted into a field hospital.
"Can we still hold out?"
After hastily bandaging a wounded soldier beneath him with bloodstained hands, a doctor rose once more and looked toward the elevator entrance of Mary Geoise, now shrouded in thick smoke. The thunderous cries of battle resounded from that direction as he muttered to himself.
Sweat poured from him. He had lost count of how many times he had repeated this same motion.
Though ammunition remained sufficient, medical supplies were already running short. The crippled soldiers could not receive effective treatment.
The Imperial Army had arrived too quickly. The stockpiled supplies at Red Port had not even been transported upward before falling into enemy hands. Mary Geoise had already been cut off from the Four Seas.
Rat-tat-tat-tat!
Whoosh! Whoosh!
On the battlefield choked with smoke and artillery fire, Marine soldiers clutching flintlocks fell one after another.
The corpses of Imperial troops and Marines lay scattered across the plains before the elevator staircase. The ground trembled violently, and the surrounding palaces had already been reduced to rubble.
Bang!
"Charge with me!"
After coating himself in Armament Haki and knocking back several charging black-armored light infantry, a Marine Vice Admiral led a squad of elite Marines forward, blades and heavy axes in hand, clashing head-on with the Imperial forces.
The Marines operated with clear coordination. The front line hacked downward with heavy axes and long blades, while the rear ranks used flintlocks and small cannons to concentrate fire in support.
Taking advantage of their elevated terrain and the fact that the Imperial landing force had not yet fully secured a foothold, they expanded their gains through local numerical superiority.
Especially that Vice Admiral—sword in one hand, fist in the other—fighting at the forefront.
He carved through the Imperial ranks that had just landed, charging left and right. Seeing this, the Marines behind him were invigorated, roaring as they launched a counter-charge.
In response, though the troops who had landed first were primarily Imperial Servitor Army, they were no pushovers. Without even waiting for orders from supervising Imperial Auxilia, they roared battle cries and surged forward.
To them, war meant merit. Merit meant titles. A chance to change their destiny—and the social standing of their families—lay right before them.
For themselves, for their families, even in death they would take one enemy with them. The 360° real-time recorders in their helmets would upload their kills. Their military merits would be inherited by their descendants or kin.
They dared to fight to the death.
"Kill! For the Empire!"
"For justice!"
Both sides roared and collided. No one retreated. When the front ranks fell, the rear stepped forward. At every moment, screams rang out alongside the sickening sounds of bullets and blades piercing flesh and bone.
Whoosh—thud!
"Aaah!"
A Marine officer was not spared. Clutching his abdomen where a laser had burned straight through, he howled hoarsely, trying to shove his spilling intestines back inside.
But the enemy gave him no chance.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
In the instant his steps faltered, the Imperial troops who had climbed up focused their fire and riddled him like a beehive. He collapsed atop the growing mound of corpses.
Gradually, the bodies piled higher and higher at the elevator entrance of Mary Geoise, nearly forming small hills.
But it was far from over.
More and more Imperial Servitor Army soldiers crawled over the heaps of corpses and joined the battle.
The dead lay like mountains. The soil had turned thick brown-red—that was blood, the color of human blood mixed with earth.
As time passed, it was not only the Servitor Army. Imperial Auxilia units also began pouring into the battlefield without cease. The Marines finally could not withstand it. They were driven back step by step.
"Damn it! We must hold this position! If the elevator entrance falls and the rebels secure a landing foothold for troop deployment, we are doomed!"
"Where is Admiral Ryokugyu's support? Where is CP0? The elevator entrance must not fall!"
Several lasers had grazed the Vice Admiral's face, tearing flesh and scorching skin, yet he paid it no mind. What concerned him was the crumbling defensive line.
And at that moment—
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Vrrr—!
A tremendous booming of explosive rounds echoed across the field.
The Vice Admiral at the frontline immediately sensed that this gunfire was completely different from flintlocks, laser rifles, or standard gunpowder weapons.
Rather than gunfire, it resembled artillery—the sonic boom of shells breaking the sound barrier.
"Watch out—it's those heavy armor—"
Before he could finish, warmth splashed across his face.
The Marine standing before him was blown clean in half.
A torrent of blood and chunks of viscera burst outward from the severed torso in a near-explosive spray.
Not only him—every nearby Marine was drenched in blood.
Before they could recover, dozens of smoking flash grenades spun through the air like cannonballs, smashing through cover.
Bang! Bang!
In an instant, blinding light and deafening noise erupted simultaneously. Temporary blindness and vertigo stalled the Marine assault entirely.
"General Liver has arrived with the Astartes Third Legion, Black Marlin! By order of Legion Commander Sanguinius!"
"After securing the landing zone, advance steadily into the depths! Eliminate protruding positions! Compress the enemy's maneuvering space and concentrate them into a single point for annihilation!"
Hoarse shouts rang out from the smoke. Then muzzle flashes flared—
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
"Advance! In honor of Selene's blood!"
The position of the Marine Vice Admiral was plowed over by overwhelming concentrated fire within barely two seconds.
"Iron Body!"
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Even with Armament Haki and Iron Body combined for double defense, the standard explosive bolts' directional secondary detonations blasted dozens of bloody craters into the Vice Admiral's body.
"Urgh—!"
Feeling as though every bone in his body had shattered, he dropped to his knees. Through his mangled, blood-soaked face, one remaining eye opened just in time to see a heavy axe—its blade roaring like a chainsaw—descending toward him.
Slash.
His vision spun.
The last thing the Marine Vice Admiral saw was the defensive line collapsing. In the hands of those crimson heavy-armored warriors, his subordinates were being slaughtered without mercy.
"Report to the Five Elders! Those crimson heavy-armored soldiers from the intelligence reports have entered the battlefield! The elevator staircase has fallen! The rebels have breached! Request rein—"
Crouched behind cover, clutching a Den Den Mushi, the Marine officer did not finish his sentence. A rocket slammed nearby. The shockwave blasted sand into his mouth.
When he lifted his head again, a dark gun barrel filled his vision.
Bang!
"Advance. Compress the enemy's maneuvering space."