NOVEL NEXT When the Gate Opens
Chapter 3.
Whole Cake Island, Totta Land
Tea Party. A word synonymous with gatherings, small celebrations, and garden parties. A short time where people together celebrated, discussed, and enjoyed themselves surrounded by company they loved and food they liked.
In most parts of the world, this definition held true…but not in the New World and especially not by the name of Charlotte Linlin. The Tea Parties of the Charlotte Family was dangerous in the least and gruesome at best…it was usually so so much worse.
In another world, Tea Parties of ‘Big Mom’ would be hosted for her own enjoyment and celebrations. It would match the word and guests would be provided with the greatest foods from all the blues and the Grandline…if one could forget the lingering taste of blood on the ingredients used to make the dishes.
Such was not the Tea Party in the world for ‘Charlotte Linlin’ who now lead the Union Pirates. It was not the tea party from hell with ingredients of blood…but rather it was a conference of sorts. A conference which would often be followed by rivers of blood and deaths but a peaceful conference (during the duration) nonetheless.
During Linlin’s reign over a large portion of the New World for decades, countless small independent island-states have come and gone. Most of them swearing loyalty or neutrality in all conflicts and events. Except…some simply did not understand the message of who ruled the waters.
“Representatives of the Principality of Seazone.” Perospero, the oldest child of Linlin addressed the gathered members. “You are under charges of turning your back on the alliance. Selling out alliance member’s locations and information to the Marines as well as deliberately blocking your waters to allow passage of the Honor Guard fleet. How do you plead?”
On the top of the Whole Cake Chateau, the debate raged onwards as the representatives from Seazone exhausted every trick in the book to declare themselves innocent, shift the blame, or ignore the issue completely. It seemed as if the long tea part was finally coming to an end.
Only total surrender would be accepted…and the Seazone representatives knew that. They knew that well.
A short old man with a long gray beard which reached his toes stood up from his seat. He took his walking cane in hand before pointing it directly at Perospero.
“Fuck you!” He croaked. “Fuck you and your pirate ways! The Marines will save us from your tyranny!”
“Yeeahhhh!!!” “That’s right!” “Yes Minister!” The cheers came from the representatives of the Principality of Seazone.
“The Marines will protect us! You’re rule over the New World is over!” The old minister continued.
Perhaps it was in their unified shouting that they, for a single moment, believed in the delusions that the Marines would be able to exercise their powers here. Here…of all places. The same waters in which they were repelled time and time again, broken, beaten, and battered.
So it was no surprise that the gathered representatives of the Totta Land and the Union Pirates showed expressions of anything but fear or desperation. In fact, most of the faces shown were boredom…amusement at best.
“*sigh* War it is then.” Perospero sighed as he passed a note to Mont’ Dor. Mont’ Dor, having ate the Book Book fruit, immediately recorded down the transgressions and the results of the ‘Tea Party’ before closing the book. “There’s no need for an admiral. I believe a Clone Commander and his division would suffice. If they fail…we’ll call in the ‘Captain’.”
As Perospero finished looking through the pages to find the right person to address this new problem to, he stood up to conclude this long, torturous, peace session which had reaped nothing but foolishness.
“This meeting is conclu—*purururu* *pururururu* huh?” The baby transponder snail on Perospero’s wrist began rang interrupting his words.
*pururruru* *purururru*
Having enough of the sound, he picked up the dial.
“What is it?” The Head Minister of Totta Land spoke through the snail. “I thought I told you not to disturb me unless there’s an emergency.”
“But sir!” A member of the Honor Guard responded from the other side. “I’m not sure if this is an emergency but a…gate of sorts have just appeared on Cacao Island. An incredibly large stone gate. It looks as if even our Fortress ships can fit inside it!”
“What?” There was only confusion. While there was the saying that ‘Anything is possible in the GrandLine’, there had to be some sort of logic…didn’t there?
A large gate just appearing out of nowhere? In the territory of Totta Land, no less?
“Are you sure? Is it not an illusion or a trick?” Perospero asked. The question may have sounded stupid but he needed to make sure. The Marines were getting more and more craftier these days. Constantly making up ways to get past their tight border control.
“No sir. We’re absolutely certain. It’s just…that the gate is closed right now and we can’t seem to open it.”
“Why would you try and open it?! Create a perimeter around it and grab the nearest fleet and secure the area! Put one of the Admirals on the call! I’m not in charge of Armed or danger conflicts. For Mama’s cake think straight!”
Any potential threats are calculated and removed. One way or another.
“Sir…”
Oh for god’s sake. What now.
“What is it now.”
“The only admiral in range is…Admiral Syrup. She was ordered to stay put from her majesty herself. We cannot ask her and nor can she contact us.”
Syrup?
His little sister, his precious little sister, who had gone off and got herself broken beyond anything a family should have to witness. He had seen her when she had come back…and it felt as if his candied heart was cracking.
Every flinch she tried to hide, the tight lips to hold back the emotions, the blank eyes… She can’t be put on active duty anytime soon. No. Not her.
Perospero looked up to see the knowing eyes of his little brother Katakuri. With a single nod, the loyal sentinel of the family was off. Off to Cacao Island incase the unspeakable happened.
Whatever is causing problems must not make it to Syrup’s ears.
He knew exactly what his foolish little sister would do. She would jump right out of her bed and rush off, blade in hand. She had just begun to open up more, to smile again, and share the shortest of conversations.
Blood was the farthest thing she needed right now.
“Get a lockdown on Cacao Island now! I want civilians away from that thing and call in all nearby units! Where the hell is Smoothie!”
“Yes sir…oh wait…! There’s movement from the gate! It’s opening!”
Did all of this craziness had to have happened today??
… …
City Center, Cacao Island. Totta Land.
GATE
Count Rowen. General of the 6th Legion of the (Saderan) Empire.
It was not often the Holy Gates opened in the realm of Falmart, even less so when two Gates opened simultaneously. In fact, it was agreed upon that this occurrence was a first…to have two different gates lead to different worlds.
One on the Holy Hill of Alnus…and another on Aurtria Island, the largest island in the Blue Sea. The Blue Sea was the sea which was encompassed by the Empire, having covered all three sides of the sea before giving way to the endless waters afar. The Island of Aurtria, however, was a very strategic island.
Stationed near the top center of the Blue Sea, it was extremely close to the capital of the Empire, Sadera, as well as easily accessible from any inner coast of the Empire. It was for this reason why the Island was always armed…and also why it was able to respond so quickly when the gates opened.
“Line up you dogs! Else Hardy take you all!” He yelled to his legion as his commanders relayed the orders throughout the endless lines of men. As he breathed in the salty air and gaze upon his army, he couldn’t help but feel…proud. This was his time. This was his moment to prove to the Emperor his worth.
Marquis Roen…yes…he liked the sound of that. Surpassing his father and being granted the title of Dukedom.
Fifty thousand strong. Forty thousand proud men of the Empire and ten thousand lesser races gathered in a matter of mere weeks…ready to march upon what laid on the other side and claim the savage lands for the Emperor.
“General Roen” A messenger got off his horse and knelt before him. “The final ship has arrived. The troops will be ready to march by tomorrow.”
“Good.” He turned back, not bothering to put any honorifics to a commoner. He sensed the winds picking up and the seawater in the distance churning. The waves were beginning to climb higher and higher.
It seemed as if the last ship had arrived just in time before a storm.
Storms. The New World. The Wrathful Children of the Queen. Do not go through that Gate
?? He must be hallucinating. Did he have too much wine yesterday? Perhaps it was his lack of sleep.
Awakening the sleeping Devil. The Mother of souls shall reap—
He was going to conquer a land of barbarians. Nothing more, nothing else. All such recorded in the old records stated as such. Barbarians, inferior beings, had crossed over to these lands in search of a civilized life. It was them, the Empire, who had brought all those under the realm of Falmart under order and peace.
These would be barbarians…savages who know nothing of the way of civilized life formed. They would educate these beasts…they would serve the Empire. Like all have done.
Goblins. Ogres. Wyverns.
Elves. Dwarves. Demi-humans.
All of Falmart had bent the knee. What was one more domain?
… …
*thud* *thud* *thud* *thud*
The sound of fifty thousand strong marching sounded through the dark gate. Dimly lit with only the torches the legions carried, they marched onwards.
“Match the rhythm you dogs! Today is the day you bring glory to the Empire!” A commander yelled at his unit.
Two simultaneous strikes. A war on two fronts. On this same day, the land on the other side of Alnus hill would be captured. This side, however, Aurtria Island Gate, was his chance to shine. He wouldn’t be outdone by the likes of Herm or Calasta.
As he rode upon his prized horse, a deep black horse complete with customized black iron armor, he couldn’t help but feel excited about the future. He was about to put his name on the halls of history. To be etched in memory of all Imperial citizens for eternity as the hero who had conquered the realm of barbarians and brought the light of civilization.
Roen the Great. Duke Roen.
Despite this, he prayed for there to be a primitive peoples. Primitive like the elves or the Cat people so he could domesticate them, enslave them, and bring them back as trophies to give to the Emperor.
“Light ahead my lord!”
True to his words, there was a small stream of light appearing at the end. A sign of finally reaching the other side of the other-worldly portal.
This was it. This was his chance.
“Hold!” He boldly announced. His voice echoing against the black stone walls of the inside of the gate. The various Commanders and unit heads relayed his orders as fifty thousand footsteps halted.
“Shields Up! Ogres to the front!” The grand army shifted and the sound of clanking metals filled the air.
“Get the Wyvern riders to fly out first. We’re taking this for the glory of the Empire! March Onwards! Onwards to victory and another claim for the Emperor!”
Swords clanged on shields and the voices of fifty thousand men cheering deafened them all. In the midst of this blood pumping moment, the marched. Marched onwards until they could smell the salt in the air, the smell of the ocean.
Line by line, they disappeared through the wall of light. He too, on his high horse, approached the wall of light as he took in a deep breathe.
“Emroy bless me. Hardy praise me. Emperor Protect me.” With those words, he urged his horse forward.
For a split moment, it felt as if he was walking through a semi-solid gel-like substance His breathe hitched and everything felt momentarily colder. His limbs felt detached as the nerves screamed out in confusion of the nothingness…but it lasted no longer than a single fleeting moment. So short that he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not.
What was clear, however, was the bright night sky lit by the two moons above them and a setting sun to the side. Each of them shone as brightly as full moon, illuminating everything in view.
“What in name of Emroy…” The words spilled from his mouth before he could hold them back. Was his eyes playing tricks on him? What was all of this…?
Buildings and constructions of metal and stone towered high into the sky. Each of them matching the height and glory of the genius of the Imperial Palace itself. The reflections from the glasses and mirrors apparent in every corner…just how many glassblowers did these barbarians have?
Strangest of all, perhaps, were the monsters roaming the streets. Humanoids with heads of fish, animals, humans without limbs while others seemed to have too many joints. Some of these creatures looking as if they barely reach his hip while others towered over even the ogres themselves.
A land of monsters. A land of barbarians.
“Hear this and hear well you Barbarians!” He yelled. “In the name of his highness, Emperor Augustus Molt! This land is to be claimed and is now under the rule of the Great Empire!”
The roaring of fifty thousand men shook the very ground as they continued to march forward.
“Claim these lands! Kill any who resist! Kill the barbarians!” In any new lands, fear must be instilled…and the instrument for that was overwhelming power. He would teach these barbarians that raising high buildings and making pretty glasses would have no power over the great Empire.
He would press these lowly lifeforms under his foot to serve the Empire. Perhaps…perhaps once this was all said and done, he would turn this realm into a construction city where he would use his new slaves to build his legacy all over the Empire…including Sadera itself.
Ahh, the gold and glory. It awaited him.
Within moments of giving the orders, screams echoed in the air. The sound of pain, of agony, the pleadings for mercy in a foreign tongue. They were all swiftly ignored. A raised sword, a strike, another body.
Those who have fallen to their knees, grab them by the hair and drag them. Grab them by the variety. They were sure to fetch high prices. While some may not be as ‘good’, exoticness and rarity was a quality of its own.
How long has this been going on. Minutes? Perhaps even hours? It felt like the ecstasy of the moment lasted forever as land was claimed and blood was spilled in the Emperor’s name.
If only they had noticed the darkening skies. If only he had noticed the silenced seas. If only he had noticed that they had arrived…if only he…if only.
*Zhhpppp!* A loud sound of a sharp explosion silenced them all. One imperial solider, just a single nameless soldier, suddenly staggered forward gripping his chest. *step* … *step*… *thud*.
The said soldier fell to his knees.
*cough* *cough* Blood. The soldier’s eyes unfocused as blood spilled from his mouth. *slip*… *thud*
The man crashed down. Not a single twitch. Not a single movement. Dead.
“Whaa—“ “Hey, soldier!” “Get up!” Confusion swept through the lines as through some cruel form of sorcery, one of them has fallen.
One.
One which was about to be turned to hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands.
*!!!!!!* A deep sound reverberated in their hearts as a sound he’s never heard echoed loud, so ear hurting loud, across the entire area.
“Gah! Where is this sound coming from!”
“Sir! The shore! The waters!”
He turned his eyes to the far shore, to this world’s oceans, and he simply could not comprehend the sight.
Walls. Walls on gigantic, massive, towering snails. There were walls in the waters breaking through the waves…heading straight for the island. They were already so close that he could begin to see the individual figures on these walls.
The most prominent of them was an incredibly tall female human with proportionately longer legs. Legs so long it must have been at least three fourths of her height stood at the helm of the largest of these snail walls. She had a thick, soft looking, violet headgear which sat comfortably on hair.
She was…extremely beautiful.
Dressed head to toe in a rather elaborate, colorful, pattered tight-fitting armor, she seemed to he holding some form of a lance…except she was holding it sideways and up to her eyes.
“I don’t know how you scum managed to break the tart barrier ships or the sensors, but attacking here was incredibly foolish of you.” The tall girl spoke in an unknown tongue. “You have come here uninvited, near the heart of Totta Land. You have spilled innocent blood on our lands. With the power invested it me by Queen Charlotte Linlin and as an Admiral of the 4th fleet of the Union Pirates, I declare you as an Enemy.” The girl continued to speak.
“What are you doing you dogs! Form lines! Form lines against the shore!” His command was met with immediate action as the training the soldiers received finally kicked in. Their swords were sheathed as they ran to reform their organized lines.
Whatever charge the enemy was planning on doing, they would hold. Nothing would break their shield wall. Their phalanx would hold.
“Get the Wyvern riders up! Destroy those ships!” Command was passed as the dozens of the sky-flyers changed course and began to fly out towards the sea. Towards the enemy.
*screech!!*
“Open fire. Kill these fools.”
“Yes Admiral Smoothie!”
Hell burned down on them. With whatever the girl said, the entirety of hell fell down upon their forces.
There was a single moment of a darkened sky…and
*BOOOMMM* *BOOOOMMMM* *BOOOOMM* Blinding red and yellow exploded high up into the sky. The heat, oh the heat, scorched everything in the vicinity. Even from so far away, he felt as if his face was peeling off as the mere heat threatened to burn him. His armor suddenly felt as if it was steaming. He shut his eyes closed to stop the intense light from blinding him any further.
He couldn’t hear anything else as he clutched his ears shut and yet the ringing continued. It must have been at least half a minute before he felt it was safe to take his hands off and open his eyes once again.
And what he saw…
The entire lines of soldiers who courageously went forward to face the approaching forces were annihilated…blown away the dust. Not even the metal armor, the blood splatters, or anything was left of them. The only trace left was the glassed, uneven, blackened, stone.
What was more threatening, however, was the ever closing snails. So close to shore, so close to deliver their death.
“Charge onwards. Onto land. Crush them under. 2nd division man the cannons. 3rd division on the auto-weaponry. 4th division on deck.”
The girl seemed to talk to a miniature something on her wrist. It must have done something as suddenly the hundreds of figures on the snails began moving busily, fast, and with purpose.“Land Contact!” Another loud voice he could not understand. “We are on land!”
“Front line, crush them under. Second line, secure the perimeter. Remaining ships, we’re taking no prisoners, you know what to do.”
“Yes Admiral Smoothie!”
It was scene straight out of a nightmare as the giant snails, some as high as the Imperial Palace itself, barreled towards them at an astonishing speed.
“Argghhhh! Help! Help!” Somewhere from the sides, the mysterious sorcery came alive once again as his men began falling dozens at a time. Falling, dying.
“Raise your spears! Raise your spears if you want to live!” One of his commanders screamed at his division as he ordered his men to resist the charge of the moving, living, fortresses.
*Crunch* *ccrerracckkkk* *spluech* *pop*
It was useless. It was utterly and completely useless as the spearpoints broke on impact…and the soldiers behind them were crushed under the weight of a massive superstructure. Squished under to leave nothing but a red stained stone.
“ARRGHHH! “HELP!” “SAVE ME!” “MERCY MERCY!”
“DON’T KILL ME PLEASE!!” “I’M A COMMANDER OF THE IMPERIAL ARMY! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO—ARRHHH PLEASE~~!!”
All pleas were swiftly ignored. Any of which remained standing were cut down.
“RUN RUN RUN!!” Someone yelled…and all the survivors heard it. The legion dropped their shields, their spears, swords, and some even ripped off their helmets and chest-plates as they ran and ran. Ignoring the yelling officers, ignoring the pleas for mercy, ignoring the sounds of their kin being murdered like pigs for slaughter they ran.
Back through the gate in which they came through. The gate in which they felt so confident, so strong as if they were invincible. Mere moments ago when they had high hopes.
“Take no prisoners.” “Yes Admiral Smoothie!”
He saw an officer he had respected suddenly have three holes in his chest as he slowly fell to the ground. Blood sprouting from the wounds, his mouth, and eyes. The man was dead before he touched the ground.
“Have no mercy.” “Yes Admiral Smoothie!”
From another side, another legion of fortresses had arrived. Opening fire and death on any who dared to be close. Underfoot and through their sorcery, red lights and heat incinerated anything bearing the symbol of the Empire.
“Make sure they stay down.” “Yes Admiral Smoothie!”
Dead bodies twitched in impulse as the monsters fired upon them once again. To ensure their death…to kill them twice.
“4th division. It’s your time.” “Yes Admiral Smoothie!”
He could finally see the figures on the snails clearly. Massive hulking Demi-humans…half aquatic creatures and half man. They truly were monsters. Some he recognized as the tell-tale signs of a shark or an octopus. Others were simply unknown while few appeared too grotesque to even recognize. Sharp teeth, fish eyes on the side of their head, special features, and hulking muscles.
Each one of them sported a type of armor he didn’t recognize. Dark purple and white in design which seemed to hug their body…but not cloth or any material he recognized. Their heads were fully covered in the same material and something which covered both of their ears (Headphones) and their eyes were covered with a black and red glasses.
“Fire! Fire!” A unit a distance away fired their arrows at the newly shown monsters. His hopes, however, were dashed when the monsters did not even bother to put their shields up. Their arrows, their prized arrows of the Empire, bounced harmlessly off of whatever their suits were made of.
These creatures jumped off their snails…not to their deaths however as every single one of them landed softly on the ground as if jumping from that height was nothing to them.
“Remove these pests above.”
The wyvern riders, which were hopeless in doing any damage suddenly began screeching in pain as they writhed in the air. As massive holes of black began to appear on the flying wyverns with no time to evade.Twitching, pulsing, and silence as they began to fall to their deaths…with their riders along with them. Dozens fell in moments only to be followed soon after by dozens more.
*bzzzzttttt*
Hundreds of things flew off from the tops of the snails. Thousands of wings beating and creating a buzz in a mix of yellow and black…
Wasps. Giant wasps. Wasps the size of wyverns.
The monstrosity of an insect swarmed the wyverns in a matter of moments…for a minute, nothing but visible until the swarm moved on. What was left, however, were the shredded pieces of what used to be a wyvern and its rider.
*Scrreeeeechhhh!* The sound of the dying animal. The prized aerial unit of the Empire fell dead, like so many others. Screams of the wyverns rider as they were bitten, stabbed, injected with poison and shredded into rags.
Dead. Dead like so many others.
“AARGHHHHH!!!!!” “HELPPPP! HELLPP!!!”
*slice* *slice*
He lost his footing as he fell to his knees. As he looked down, he saw the cracked ground and the shaking foundation. The stones…the entire stone floor couldn’t handle the pressure the monsters were putting on them.
*drip…* *drip…* rain?
*drip* *drip* *drip* Red droplets splattered on the surface.
*drip…* *drip…* No…the iron smell. The stickiness…the roughness…this was blood. Blood of the Empire.
But what could have… he got his answer immediately as he looked to his left.
A whirlwind, a typhoon, was being spun around as hundreds of his soldiers got caught in the whirlwind of death. A whirlwind of wind blades in which splintered everything and anyone. Directly in front of the said typhoon was a girl…a girl who seemed too out of place.
Wearing tight fitting black buttoned shirt and…a girl wearing pants? Black pants. It was as if her theme was black as head to toe she was covered in black. Her hands, her neck, were covered in some black cloth. Up to her jaw, all that was visible was pitch black.
However her eyes…the few parts not covered by the dark color seemed to dominate it all. Her light pink hair was roughly brushed backwards before being tied into single tail(?). Her tanned light skin stood out from her dark dressings. And finally her eyes…her eyes were fierce if nothing else.
*shiver*
Even from this distance away, he felt as if her eyes were seeing through him, seeing his soul, and everything there was about him. The eyes…they glowed. They glowed ominously orange, illuminating the light around her with her eyes alone. They burned with more intensity than even the flames of the Fire Dragon.
The red glimpses in which he saw her eyes turn only intensified the effect. It was as if…she was a devil.
The dripping blood from her creation simply flowed right off her, dripping off onto the stone. She walked right through winds of death…towards him.
*step* *step* *step*
Everything else seemed to silence as her footsteps were suddenly all he could hear. It was as if the war…no, the massacre, had stopped.
He looked back to run… to run through the gate and face whatever fate the Emperor had planned for him. He would rather face the imperial punishment than whatever that devil had in store for him.
The eyes said it all.
“Arrghhhh!!!!” Through the silence he heard another scream. A high pitched sound of pain, of agony, and fear. It was only his burning throat and his hands clawing at them that he realized…it was his own.
He fell face first into the bloodstained stone as he finally looked up. Looked up to only find despair, not hope. The entrance to the gate, his way home, was completely guarded by the fortresses.
Indestructible…standing there like a bulwark. To prevent anyone from escaping…to ensure there are no survivors.
Was this his destiny? Was this his punishment? What had he done for this fate…to die on a foreign land with no one to carry his will…his prayers? Didn’t he faithfully follow the will of Emroy? Hardy? And the other gods of the pantheon as well?
Why did he deserve this fate?
Lying on the cold crimson stone, he felt his last drops of hope drain away as he heard the steps once again. Steps of the approaching devil.
*step* *step* *Step*
*pause*
Something grabbed his hair as he was yanked upwards. Upwards into a kneeling posture…but he was forced to keep his hair down.
In a small part of his mind that was mad, crazy, and driven by nothing else but survival…it took his vocals.
“You Barbarians! Let go of me at once! I represent the will of the Emperor himself! I am Count Roen of the great Empire! Unhand me at once you peasants!”
“Another fool…” The girl spoke. The soft natured sound of her voice and her contrasting actions broke through all the facade of confidence. The fear…the chill…the shaking intensified tenfold as he looked into the eyes of the devil.
“I would kill you now but we need information. Pudding?”
Another girl stepped out from behind the demonic girl. A girl similar in looks but far more softer appeared. In contrast to the demon, this girl’s hair was brown and shoulder length. She had on a white dress (an actual dress) and fair skin which seemed like she had barely seen the sun.
“Please…please…let me go…” The glaring of the devil…it was too intense. As if he was nothing but a child again.
“Of course sister.”
The second girl moved forward and he could finally see the monster that she was. On her forehead was a third eye…a moving, seeing, monstrous third eye. This creature was a three eyed monster…a freak.
“Get away from me! Monster! Monster!” Invisible arms tied him down as he found himself unable to move…unable to even resist.
His vision clouded over as the monster reached out to him with her hands. He felt the tips of her soft fingers to his temple before he knew no more.
This expedition was a mistake…
A couple of minutes ago
Cacao Island. Charlotte Mansion
Charlotte Syrup
The sound of sirens blared across the island. By the rapid, high pitched, pattern of which the siren rang, she knew it could only mean one thing; Invasion.
Invasions…during Mama’s Tea Party? That was an incredibly foolish thing for anybody; even for the Marines. After all, it was during these Tea Parties in which Totta Land was armed to the teeth.
All (except one) fleets would be recalled home while all forces would be prepared to be deployed at any moment should negotiations fail. The border control was raised to the limit while the capital island, Whole Cake Island, had been reinforced with every bit of power they had available…well, they didn’t have her but she was a special case.
The Charlotte Mansion on Cacao Island. It was another case of an island and house named by them, the children, much to Mama’s annoyance.
Cacao Island, despite being so close to Whole Cake Island, had an entirely different demeanor from the capital island. For unknown reasons, the waters around the harbors were calmer and brighter, the weather was warmer, and some parts of the island was left intentionally undeveloped to keep the atmosphere.
While islands around them were becoming metropolises and the next Water 7, Cacao Island remained one of the only core islands to retain it’s original shape and beauty. It was for that reason many within Totta Land came to visit Cacao Island for a relax and resort type of experience.
And to attack here…of all places? A place filled with civilians? A place which had no military or political significance? It was an open declaration of war. No questions asked. Whoever had just picked a fight with them were going to be annihilated.
In an instant she had crossed the room and had her hand on the door when…she hesitated.
Syrup, my daughter, you need to heal. You need rest.
For a moment she faltered.
It is not your burden to carry yet. It is mine.
Her Mama…her Mama had specifically ordered her to stay put and rest. But could she really ignore what was happening on outside?
She had cut herself off from her observation for the previous days…to just bask in the silence. To cut herself off from the problems, the pains, of others but most importantly herself.
Should she see? Should she listen?
‘Come home Syrup, we miss you.’
I know Mama…I know…
In the end, she couldn’t stop herself. She walked through the door and to the nearest window where her eyes finally saw what was happening. In the far distance, the smoke…the fires…it was enough to tell her what it was.
Kill them. Kill them all.
She balled her fists on the windowsill as she felt them turn white from the pressure. Could she truly turn a blind eye to this? As her home was being sacked by lesser creatures?
Lesser creatures? But didn’t you do the same thing? You killed too. You killed children and mothers. You’ve cut down indiscriminately.
Something blocked her throat as she struggled to swallow whatever it was. Not now…just not now…Sometimes she missed the numbness…the emptiness she had taken up for so long. The mask she could hide under and ignore everything else. The pain…the memories…without the darkness it was crippling.
Syrup!
A single word. And that was all it took for the observation she had suppressed until then to explode.
Her eyes widened and her breathing deepened as she felt like she had finally…finally woken up. With the familiar feeling her world expanded far beyond any of her senses. She…she could see, hear, and know anything…everything.
She felt her mother and brother in the Island next to hers, pausing the Tea Party to address the problem at hand. She felt the loyal Submerged Tart ships going faithfully patrolling the boundaries of the islands…so what was this?
Syrup!
Her color of observations refocused as she pinned down the location…and she immediately knew who it was. A soft feeling which encompassed her own…her other half. Her loving twin sister was calling out for her.
Panic. Fear. Hope
The emotions send through the connection was enough. Everything else was irrelevant. Not at this time…no matter what it was.
Space rippled as she called on her heart as her casual clothes were glided off and replaced instantaneously with her battle outfit. She felt the raid suit nestled in the inner pocket of her black coat and prayed she wouldn’t need it.
Her blade, Enma, which Mama had tied to her soul appeared in her left hand as she began running out of the house. Instinctively she pulled her black mask up to her nose when the realization struck.
She was going to kill. Blood would be spilled…like once before.
She would have to accept duty over herself, once again.
The black mask…it was so much more than a means of keeping herself warm or a way to not choke of the splattering blood. It represented what the world saw of her…the Devil. Having almost become synonymous with her as she had always taken on the black mask into battle…it became what it was.
The mask of the Devil.
It would be so easy…if she put it on again.
No guilt…only duty.
No pain…only family.
No hesitation…only love.
Syrup!
The panic in her thoughts were evident now. Was there even a choice?
Her felt her haki, her will, fall into the darker parts once again. Corrosive…but effective. Repulsive…but powerful.
Anything for family. That was what her brothers had said.
They would do the same for her…except this was just her role.
She pulled up the scarf.
… …
Cacao Island
1 week Later
Much has happened in the two months since the attack. Or rather as it was named the ‘Slaughter of Cacao’.
It was a slaughter in both senses. The invading soldiers of the empire mercilessly slaying the defenseless citizens on the island…and the same treatment returned by the armed forces of Totta Land (and the Union Fleet) to the Imperial soldiers.
Pudding’s retrieved memory from the now-deceased ‘Count Roen’ had given them all the information needed to piece together what had happened…and also why.
“A Medieval Empire bent on conquest” Pudding had said. “It’s a world where gods can create miracles. One of them had opened a gate to our world for conquest. Apparently it has happened before so this was their natural response.”
A foolish and arrogant move. To send forth an army to declare immediate war without even knowing the opposition’s strength. Incredibly foolish…but beneficial to them all the same.
“So this gate, is it safe?” That question had sparked the next great debate. Was it safe to even go through an unknown construct.
After having the space-time expert, Syrup, examine the structure, the answer was ‘No’. It was incredibly dangerous, stupid, fragile, and was as if someone had simply brute forced their way to a solution.
“Imagine trying to create a house but instead of using concrete and bricks, this being simply pressed it all together with immense strength and hoped it works. It will hold for a month at least…but I can’t guarantee it after that. Space magic is more than just force.” Syrup had commented after being disgusted by the construct.
“I can fix it given enough time.” And that was all that was done and said.
A declaration of war had been made…and it would be repaid in full and more. Their dead, their reputation, and their anger wouldn’t settle for anything less.
So Syrup spent day and night inside of the structure as she weaved together the unstable parts of time-space together. To match up the flow on both sides. She didn’t know exactly what would happen should the gate collapse but she wasn’t curious to find out…nor were her siblings and mama keen to find out either.
After a week of grueling process of finding every little blight in the hall of connecting space, she deemed the portal safe to travel. Which led to where it was now.
Out of the nine fleets available to the Union Pirates (not including the armed forces of Totta Land.), three were designated to cross the date. Two immediately, and one to follow afterwards.
Measurements were taken of the gate to ensure that the fortress ships could actually fit through the gates. Tankers, Sloops, and other resources were gathered. Tens of thousands of clones mobilized and geared up for yet another war.
The Empire had wanted conquest and glory. They have come looking for savage people to turn into subservient animals…a shame for them to have found them instead. Totta Land or not, they were Pirates at heart and pirates were never good at bowing to a foreign power.
They would have to settle for the lead in their bullets instead.
“Send in the Fortress Snail in first. They can take anything thrown at them.” Katakuri, the admiral of the 1st fleet, also known as the home fleet, ordered. “This is going to end fast and decisively.”
“Permission to use biological weapons?” “Granted”
“Carpet bombing?” “Granted.”
Fifty thousand had invaded. Less than a thousand had managed to escape back.
Approximately 20 prisoners were held…mostly due to their cooperative spirit, and thus they were currently locked up in Mont’Dor’s books. The rest have been killed.
When accounting for the civilians, however, they missed 14 people. 14 people who were not among the dead or alive. 14 of which were taken.
Unforgivable.
They had spilled blood on their haven. A place of refuge and peace…a place that Mama ruled in prosperity. Something not even the Marines had managed to do.
Unforgivable.
They had nearly managed to hurt their sister, Pudding, by circling her around the main block of the city.
Unforgivable.
The Empire would be offered the same choice they offered in their Tea Parties.
Total Surrender…or Total Annihilation
… …
Aurtria. Blue Sea.
The 2nd Gate
“Show them what we call a Buster Call.” The Admiral’s voice sounds loud and clear across the battlefield. Through the snail transponder or the headphones that all soldiers of the Union Pirates carried, the orders were clearly conveyed.
No morals. No hesitation. Only duty.
The Fishman clones of the Union jumped into action as the main front cannons of the Fortress Snails roared to life. Lights glowing and the explosives loading as the giant mechanisms from a dozen super-sized fortresses prepared to fire.
“Fire”
A single word…and it became the truth. Fire. Fire everywhere as it burned, exploded, and incinerated anything…everything…into ash. Craters were formed and gone as the constant bombing flattened everything into nothing.
A hundred thousand souls were burnt to nothing. The dozens of flags which once flew high were in differentiable from the scattered embers and the blackened dirt. The island once lush with trees, grass, and green was gone…all that was left was the burnt black of a battle zone…filled with the smell of gunpowder and chemicals.
It was silent as the smaller snails scouted out every corner of the island. Finding and executing the remaining soldiers, officers, and anyone that showed loyalty to the Empire. Civilians of the Empire were forced to get into Imperial ships (which were captured) and given a time to sail off…and not return.
Do the job right and don’t do it twice.
Review. Find all threats.
Prevention. Remove potential threats.
Action. Eliminate all threats.
The Empire wasn’t the only one to respond to their entrance into their world as tens of ships were sighted off the coast of the island…one of the most foolish endeavors undertaken by the enemies.
They were Pirates from the New World. They may have fought this battle on last but at heart they were a fleet. The fish mans and their weaponry, tactics, and warfare thrived on sea.
As the snails sled into the waters and approached the Imperial ships and the vassal nations…it was over before it began. No words were shared, not a single word spoken.
No commanders met, no flags of peace were raised.
Only the red flag of war.
The entire battle lasted five minutes. Cannon fire, ship jumping, hand to hand fighting , underwater sabotage and pure firepower.
Within five minutes, the only trace of the Empire’s vassals were dozens of sinking, burning, and broken ships littering the ocean.
“Where does this river lead to.” Katakuri asked.
“According to this map Admiral.” A Stingray lieutenant replied “It is called the ‘Roma River’ where it would connect to a vassal city named ‘Italicia’ before flowing out into the delta near the Holy Hill of ‘Alnus’.”
“Relay this information back to headquarters at once. I believe Pudding has mentioned something regarding Alnus hill before.”
“Yes Admiral Katakuri!”
He knew he would soon be recalled back to Totta Land. He had done his part of establishing a foothold in this primitive world. Someone else would be sent to replace him as the Admiral of this sector.
As he was the ‘home fleet’, it was not his duty nor his expertise in being on the offensive of a war. That was someone else’s job…and he had a sinking suspicion of who it was. Inwardly, he prayed it would be Cracker.
“Let the nut job take this case Mama.” He muttered lowly so that no one could hear him. “The nutcracker’s been complaining he hasn’t seen action for so long in Paradise anyway.”
… …
The passage through the gate has been incredibly busy with transportation going both ways. Snails from sloop size, truck size, armored snails, and even fortress snails slithered their way through the gate. Carrying food, ammunition, supplies, and everything a major exploration campaign required.
Around the worldly portal, the island was completely captured and defensed were beginning to be established. Armored towers were raised in strategic places and tart ships were floated out into the ocean to do what they did best, guard.
Entire walls from were dropped off by the snails in which the clones and the workers moved to surround key locations. A true fortress was standing tall and strong in the span of a week; complete with manned cannons, guns, and more.
Every hour, another unit would walk out of the gate and reinforce the growing numbers. The blackened dirt hardened under the tens of thousands of footsteps and eventually even the smell of gunpowder stopped.
Now…all that was left was to take to the seas. To finally go inland.
“I’d rather just go and burn the capital but this is Mama’s order after all.” Cracker, the Admiral of the 3rd fleet informed the commanders inside the Main Command building (reminiscent of a giant cake). “We’re to go down this Roma River and cut the Empire off from their East and Southern parts. If we hold this place, then the Empire essentially starves itself.”
“Sir, are we going to just let the enemy kill themselves?”
“No. Mama wants to force a surrender out of them so we’re giving them the time. Should these fools prove themselves to be incapable of logical thought…then we’re free to march on the capital.”
“Yes Admiral.”
… …
Alnus hill
JSDF
“Sir! We have a situation!” The director of the Special Regions Operations of the JSDF, Yagami, looked up lazily from the paper he was reading.
He was an aging man…all he really wanted was some peace in his later days. It was only a few more years until his retirement too, until he would comfortably live with the pensions provided by his nation and live with honor.
But no~…the world just had to open up a literal trans-world portal right when he was beginning to set up his retirement plans; namely to spoil his adorable granddaughter.
He took one more puff from his smoke before he tipped the ashes into the ash tray.
“What is it.” Even his eye-sight wasn’t what it used to be. Couldn’t the natives here just get the message that they weren’t going to achieve anything by throwing hundreds of thousands of bodies at them?
They had already defeated them thrice…they were capable of doing so countless more times. Besides, if those drones would quickly find out where their capital was then they wouldn’t have to go through all this trou—
“Sir the drones have picked up something!”
Oh. Perhaps it would be possible to go home by Christmas after all.
“On the river we have identified from the locals as Roma river, it seems another force is flowing down towards our location!”
“What, is it naval assaults this time? Just blast them away. Get the Naval division down here as well too.” He replied lifelessly as he returned to puffing his smoke.
“Sir…it doesn’t match.”
“What doesn’t match.” He put down his burnt smoke stick as he rummaged through this jacket to find another one.
“The ships sir…drone images record strange giant creatures with…cannons and guns. Also, we lost connection with the drone. We believe it was shot down sir.”
The new, unlit, cigarette dropped onto the table as Yagami processed the words.
Cannons. Guns.
Capabilities to shoot down a flying drone.
It didn’t match, just as the soldier reported. These Empire fools were still using bow and arrows. Shields and spears. Primitive as the Roman Empire was back in their world…so where did this new faction come from?
“They’re coming to our location?” He asked to confirm.
“Not necessarily towards us but they seem to be exploring upstream. Towards the city of Italicia and…to Alnus hill.”
Silence.
If Alnus hill was attacked by whatever these were…could he guarantee victory? Could he promise that nobody would lose their lives?
Cannons and Guns.
No. Not against firearms, despite how outdated they may be.
Was there another gate? Was there another faction apart from the Empire in these lands…but with technology far more advanced?
Impossible.
Human nature, and most of these people were human, dictated that power were used. Would these savages truly have left the Empire, which apparently dominated over the continent, alone?
Would the Empire truly dedicate such a force through the gate knowing they had a neighbor capable of this much?
High chance that there is another gate. Another world…with technology level closer to ours than the Empire’s.
Locate their Gate later. Focus on protecting your men. Protecting Alnus hill.
His experience in the military for decades ran in overdrive as he spread the (limited) map of the special region. It only encompassed what little they knew of the lands, but regarding the river…it was enough.
He traced the river down until he landed on the one city they had confirmation of.
Italicia
“We stop them here.”
“Sir. We’ve already sent Lieutenant and the Third Recon Team to the location.”
“Inform them to bunker down, because we’re sending in everything we can spare. Also, get me call with the Prime Minister. He should know about this before things gets down.”
… …
Capital of the Empire, Sadera
Senate Hall
If anyone in the Empire was asked to choose two places of the greatest wealth and power, they would no doubt answer the Imperial Palace and the Senate Hall. Both residing within the walls of the capital, Sadera, and both displaying the marvel of architecture. Those who walked the halls of the Senate were the best the Empire had to offer. The highest of nobility, the most highly educated, and the grandest of war masters. It was for this reason why the Senate, in the presence of well educated and high men, was calm and quiet.
But not this day.
Yelling and accusation were flown across the large hall as senators yelled one thing and another. The wars, the deaths, the losses, and the situation they were in. There were simply too much to handle and nobody was willing to take the blame.
Among the rowdy nobles was a single man who sat in silence. An aging man on the throne, pondering deeply about the things to come.
A mere two months ago they had been as confident as they could have been. Convinced that the Gates were a blessing from the gods themselves, they sought to conquer what was beyond in the name of the Empire.
It was only a little over a month back when they had received word of their crushed legions. Their entire forces decimated into nothing…the dream of the empire laid bloodied and dead. Adding onto the troubling inner conflict between the noble faction and the Royal faction, he needed a way for things to be settled.
The crown was weak…and there was no question about it. It couple perhaps even be argued that there has never been a time when the crown has been weaker than it is now. The grand army, funded by the crown, was decimated. People had lost hope and the soldiers were gone.
In this time of need, it was only natural that the best of the Empire, the nobles, would immediately cause yet another internal war. The crown was weakening…and the nobles were benefiting from it.
So he came up with a solution…to weaken the enemies from beyond the gates and the civil unrest from the nobles and the vassals.
Through a clever scheme, he had made every noble line commit their soldiers and militia to the campaign in promise of gold and glory. In promise of a stronger Empire and great honor…and the fools fell right for it.
With all the noble houses and the vassal nations committing their forces, he had truly believed that the enemies would be decimated in the face of those numbers…if not, then at least take heavy casualties.
Then all he would have to do is to bring the house and vassal with the most achievements and bring down all the glory and gifts on him to satisfy their faction’s honor before moving on as if nothing had happened. Facing a weakened noble faction.
“That concludes the report from the vassals of Alnus hill.”
“Humph! Lowly bastards! They should have been decimated long ago!” The nobles had no sympathy for the vassals. No love or care or thought about the dead. Only the fear creeping of another enemy capable of defeating the vassal armies to such an extent.
What he had thought could not have been further from the truth.
“The battle of Aurtria…had been a great loss for the Empire.” The messenger stuttered as he struggled to read out the words…impossible numbers. Something that shouldn’t be possible. “The Empire had lost. 420 Naval vessel out of the 450 which had been sent out. Of the thirty which had returned, twenty four of them are critically damaged and the remaining six are entirely unusable. They were simply floating on broken planks which had been held together by the sails.”
Shoutings of lies, blasphemy, and accusation were flung around as the nobles refused to believe what had happened. What had happened to their own men…their own investments.
“Survivor reports state that they had been unable to sink a single one of the opposition. Not a single Imperial ship had managed to reach the island of Aurtria.”
“LIES!”
“One of the soldiers state that he has been given a message to share. This is the object he was given.”
The messenger searched through his leather pouch as he produced a very familiar object. A human skull…but it wasn’t just a simple one either.
On the head of the skull was a broken crown of gold. A beautifully crafted ring crown which laid broken and shattered into the half crushed head of the skull.
There were no words.
Words were not required.
The message was clear.
The message was delivered.
For the first time in centuries, the nobles in the Senate considered the possibility of their empire…finally crumbling.
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