The following morning.
The first rays of dawn had yet to fully banish the lingering shadows of night.
Elus awoke exactly on time, his internal biological clock operating with the precision of a master-crafted timepiece. He didn't wake the maids who were still deep in their sweet slumbers; instead, he washed his face and brushed his teeth himself. Though he was a prince, he remained accustomed to handling these trivialities personally. He had never quite taken to the idea of sitting or standing like a wooden statue while someone else poked around in his mouth with a toothbrush.
Of course, the maids were professionals; their touch was so gentle it could be considered a luxury. But a habit was a habit. Certain psychological remnants of his past life had not changed, despite his rebirth.
Once finished, Elus changed into his training gear and headed straight to his private martial arts field for his daily morning routine.
Over two hundred years ago, the ancestors of the Soccachio family had set out from the East Blue as bounty hunters. They had carved a path through the Grand Line and stormed into the New World, using nothing but their iron fists to forcibly seize a territory and lay the foundation of the Echemondo Kingdom. Through the relentless efforts of subsequent generations, the nation had reached its current heights.
A good life was not easily won.
Sustaining that life was even harder.
This was a lesson every child of the Soccachio line learned from the moment they could walk. To survive in the New World, overwhelming martial power was the most reliable guarantee. The kingdoms of the New World operated on rules fundamentally different from those of the Four Seas or even the "Paradise" of the first half of the Grand Line. In the New World, a King didn't necessarily have to be the strongest warrior in the realm, but he certainly couldn't be a "power-level five" weakling.
Consequently, the Soccachio family had never ceased their pursuit of strength.
Currently, the strongest member of the family—at least publicly—was Elus's grandfather, that old rogue currently living on the Red Line with his teenage bride. His strength was firmly at the level of a Marine Headquarters Vice-Admiral, and during his reign, he had been an infamously troublesome figure in the New World.
Then there was Elus's father, the sixth King, Soccachio Bovill. In Marine terms, he was a formidable fighter on par with a Headquarters Rear-Admiral.
As for Elus himself...
He was still young. He had yet to showcase his true prowess before the eyes of the world. He needed a stage—a moment brilliant enough to let the world know he existed, to show both friends and enemies that the next King of Echemondo was a powerhouse who would not pale in comparison to his predecessors.
That opportunity was now before him.
The war with the Kingdom of Amento would be Elus's debut stage.
After his morning training, a quick bath, and a hurried breakfast, Elus returned once more to the King's guest study.
A guest had already arrived before him.
"Prince Elus."
A burly man sitting on the sofa stood up, bowing in greeting as Elus pushed open the door.
"No need for such formalities. Besides, you're technically my superior now; I should be the one saluting you, General Foy," Elus said with a smile.
The man stood two hundred and sixty centimeters tall, with shoulders broad enough to gallop a horse across and a scorched-yellow beard beneath his chin. This was Bamonde Foy, the Minister of the Navy. For Elus, who was about to assume the post of Vice-Minister, Foy was indeed his commanding officer.
"Haha! You've certainly grown! You look much sturdier than when you were a lad." Foy let out a boisterous laugh before turning to Bovill behind the desk. "Your Majesty, it looks like in a few more years, we'll be heading to the World Government for our retirement!"
This was the custom of Echemondo.
A new Emperor brings a new court.
Just as Elus's grandfather had abdicated to Bovill and taken his old ministers with him to the World Government headquarters on the Red Line, when Bovill eventually stepped down for Elus, he would take his trusted inner circle to the Red Line as well.
This applied not only to the ministers but to other members of the royal family. Elus's grandfather had taken his other two sons with him. When Bovill eventually left, he would take Elus's younger brother and sister. This tradition had been established by the Second King to prevent the tragedy of internal succession wars and fratricide.
After all, royal bloodlines that consisted of a single heir—like the Alabasta or Drum Kingdoms—were rare anomalies. As for a place like the Goa Kingdom, which relied on "adopted" sons to inherit the throne, that was a tragedy in itself (assuming they were actually adoptees and not secret bastards).
Most royal families didn't feel like royalty unless they had at least a hundred clan members running around.
As for how they had managed to embed themselves so deeply within the World Government? It was simple. The Second King had launched an invincible "Golden Bullet" offensive of bribes, eventually winning over the only daughter of a high-ranking official. The official was in his fifties and had just taken a twenty-year-old as his "new" wife. It seemed that marrying younger women was a recurring Soccachio tradition.
In short, the Second King had "sacrificed" himself, dying before sixty due to overwork, but he had successfully secured a foothold for the Soccachio family within the World Government's hierarchy.
"I'm looking forward to that day myself!" Bovill laughed heartily at Foy's remark. The gloom of the previous day had been thoroughly chased away by Elus's return.
Once the King and his Navy Minister finished their laugh, they got down to business.
"Foy, give us the situation on the front lines," Bovill said, a cigar between his teeth, though he didn't light it.
"Amento's navy is pushing south. Whale Head Island, our northernmost point, was the first to fall two days ago. Just ten minutes before you walked in, the garrison at Whale Belly Island sent word—the Amento fleet has entered the scouts' field of vision.
Prince Elus, you need to arrive with reinforcements before Whale Tail Island is overrun. If Whale Tail falls, our defensive line will be forced back to Long-Whiskered Island, Macchiato Island, and Bowhead Island. Things will get much more complicated then."
The map of Echemondo's territory hung on the study wall. Foy stood by the map, pointing out the locations as he briefed Elus.
In truth, the strategy wasn't overly complex.
The magnetic fields of the New World were chaotic enough to make a lesser navigator faint. Sailing here required following the Log Pose strictly. If a fleet strayed into certain high-danger zones, it was often a one-way trip. This restricted the flexibility of naval warfare, making conflicts in the New World direct and brutal.
There were only a handful of viable attack routes and even fewer defensive chokepoints. Both attackers and defenders had little room for clever maneuvering.
A "decapitation strike" straight at the enemy's capital was almost impossible without a Permanent Pointer, and even then, without island outposts for resupply along the way, such a feat was suicidal.
War here didn't rely on complex stratagems or tricks. It came down to whose warships were larger, whose firepower was heavier, and who had the stronger warriors. It was a contest of raw, unadulterated power.
Whale Head, Whale Belly, and Whale Tail Islands formed a chain that looked like a giant whale on the map. These three were the northern gates of Echemondo. The waters surrounding them were treacherous; an invader either had to smash through these three islands or circumvent the entire region to find another angle of attack.
From the look of things, Amento intended to punch their way straight through the "Whale" chain.
"Whale Tail Island, then?"
Elus stared at the nautical chart for a few seconds and nodded. "Understood. I will annihilate the enemy at Whale Tail."
"El, be careful. Don't forget that Amento is just the front. Umit is the one pulling the strings," Bovill reminded him. Even though Elus had surpassed him in strength two years ago, the battlefield was a place where swords and guns had no eyes. Not even the Yonko could claim absolute victory in every skirmish—Kaido himself had been captured by the Marines more times than one could count.
"Also, the intel from the front mentions several major pirates with bounties over a hundred million. Here is the dossier; keep an eye out for them." Bovill picked up a file from the corner of his desk and handed it to Elus.