Chapter 49: Red and Black
A single word—
Silence.
...
Everything fell still.
The sea. The waves. The wind. The clouds.
Even the people.
The ring of fire sputtered and died. The whirlpool faded. The vast sea swallowed the evidence of battle, as if nothing had happened.
But the battle continued.
High above, two figures, wings beating, faced each other. Blades sheathed, bodies coiled, breath held—poised for the final exchange.
As the future becomes the present, so must Fate deliver its verdict.
"Haa…"
A simultaneous, soft exhalation. Then, breath held.
Their wings slowed, then ceased, canceling all lift. For this final strike, both Vergil and King would commit everything. Breathing, flying—extraneous burdens. Only forward motion remained.
Swish—
Both figures began to fall, plummeting from the sky toward the sea.
Their distinct Armament Haki—one ancient and tattered, the other a sleek, modern black—sheathed their bodies, then their blades.
Wrists tensed. Wings gave one final, powerful beat.
Whoosh!
Whoosh!
Two falling black streaks shot toward each other. Blades left their sheaths.
KABOOOOM!
Not the clang of steel, but the roar of a cannon. Flames and Ancient Armament Haki scattered, painting the sky in a millstone of fire and dark petals.
SCREEE—!
A piercing shriek of grinding metal. The two black blades locked for an instant.
Then—
CLANG!
A crisp, clean snap. Both black swords shattered at their centers. The broken halves continued their downward arcs.
SCHLICK!
The sound of blades slicing flesh. Red and black erupted.
Blood and feathers.
Half of King's wing was severed, black feathers scattering. Across Alvin Vergil's chest, a grievous wound tore from left shoulder to right waist, blood gushing.
Victory? Defeat?
No.
Their motions didn't halt. The "final cut" was not yet complete.
King's eyes widened, bloodshot and furious. He roared, "AL—VIN—VER—GIL—!"
The crown-flame extinguished. He channeled every ounce of remaining power into the broken half of his blade, igniting it with maximum firepower. Defense no longer mattered. He would burn this [Demon] to ash.
Dragon Emperor's Guard!
A colossal fire-dragon erupted—King's ultimate strike.
Vergil bared his fangs. "Come!" He opened his maw, power coiling—not toward King, but skyward. He raised his own broken black blade high.
ROOOOAAAAARRR!
ROAR!
Tremendous recoil wrenched Vergil's body into a spinning, inverted arc. The broken blade, propelled by the force, shot toward King's form.
In his Western Wind Form, the roar's direct lethality was reduced, but its propulsive force was immense, accelerating Vergil to an impossible speed.
In an instant—
The half-black blade met King's fire-dragon… and detonated.
BOOM!
...
Whoosh—!
Their figures passed each other. Motion ceased. The fall continued.
Flames dissipated. Scattered earth fell away.
On the sea's surface, one figure adjusted, hovering. The other crashed heavily into the waves, his remaining wings splaying wide, keeping him afloat for the moment.
It was King who had fallen.
Alvin Vergil hovered above. The horrific wound across his chest bled freely, dyeing the water red. He tore a large swath of Ancient Armament Haki, using it as a bandage to bind the injury.
"…"
"Hah…"
On the sea, King rose and fell with the swells. A terrible gash ran from his lower torso up to his chin. He lacked the strength to rise.
"Is it… over?" King lifted his gaze to the [Demon] nearby, murmuring, "I… lost."
"…"
Vergil descended slightly, alighting on the water beside King. He tilted his head, curiosity plain on his monstrous face.
"Hey…" The question had nothing to do with victory, loss, or intrigue. It was something King never expected.
"How… do you float?"
"…"
"Ah…"
"HA HA HA HA HA!" King turned his face to the sky, ignoring the searing pain, and laughed. He'd lost. Yet, inexplicably, with the decision made, his fury evaporated, replaced by a strange, clear relief.
After a moment, he answered, "It's how ancient pterosaurs… rest."
"Oh! I see!" Vergil nodded, filing the knowledge away.
"…"
A silence. Then King remembered something, his voice growing weaker. "Hey, [Demon]… my mask…"
During the fall, his mask and goggles had been destroyed, revealing his features: gray-brown skin, long white hair, the distinctive wreath-like tattoo beside his left eye—the marks of a Lunarian.
A race deeply entwined with the Void Century. The World Government offered a hundred-million-berry bounty for their whereabouts. King had always hidden his face. Now, helpless, it was exposed.
"…"
Vergil understood. Without a word, he plucked a piece of floating debris from the water and draped it over King's face.
"…"
"…Thanks."
King paused, then uttered the two words. He wanted to be angry, but found no cause. Both had given their all. The result was fair.
"Brother Kaido… I've failed you…"
"…"
...
In the distance, aboard ship.
The crew witnessed the conclusion. A collective sigh of relief.
Alvin Vergil's victory.
They could finally breathe, beginning to regroup and tend the wounded.
"…"
"Thank you, I feel better." Pell thanked the medic, then turned to see Cobra and others returning to the deck. With them were two others: a soaked, bloodied [Sir Crocodile], clearly injured, and a determined-looking Princess Vivi.
Huh? Why is Her Highness here?
Vivi caught Pell's gaze, offered an apologetic grin, and waved. "Hi, Mr. Pell!"
Pell: "…"
She must have stowed away. Vivi's nature, nurtured by Cobra, was anything but pampered. She'd always favored swords and adventure over palace life. One grew accustomed.
Pell rubbed his temples wearily.
"…"
"No casualties on our side. We owe this to Mr. Vergil." Cobra exhaled deeply. Alabasta's strength alone might have handled the mysterious "advisor" Vergo, but [The Fire Fist] King? A billion-berry monster. Without Crocodile bringing Alvin Vergil, even the Marines' swiftest response would have left Alabasta in ruins.
"…"
"Indeed." Crocodile lit a cigar, a dark smile playing on his lips. "We really must thank that primitive…"
"Hm?" Cobra caught the odd phrasing. "Sir Crocodile, what do you—"
"Look at the man lying in the sea." Crocodile gestured from the bow with his cigar, his smile widening. "That's not just a man."
"Heh heh heh heh…"
"That's a living, breathing billion-berry bounty."
"…"
Crocodile left one thing unsaid. Back on Sabaody, the chaos Vergil caused had frozen all his funds, trapping his assets. A financial dead end.
He took a long, satisfying drag. The shortfall could now be… rectified.
...
"Oh, and one more thing." Crocodile's smirk held a blend of glee and malice. "Smile, Cobra. The ones who'll be losing sleep over the aftermath… aren't us."
He blew a smoke ring.
"It's the Marines."
(End of Chapter 49)
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