Saint Shaldes burst into triumphant laughter as he gave the order to his two CP bodyguards.
"No… please, no…"
Little Liya's eyes were swollen from crying. As the two men in black suits approached her step by step, she backed away in terror, trembling uncontrollably.
The CP agents showed no emotion. They grabbed her by the arms and shoulders, violently dragging her forward. Her breathless sobs were ignored, and red welts began to form on her delicate skin.
The civilians kneeling nearby couldn't bear to watch. One by one, they turned their heads away.
Gion and the other Marines stood motionless, their faces dark as ash. Rage boiled inside them, hot enough to burn their very bones—but their limbs felt like they were filled with concrete. Heavy. Useless. Powerless.
Darren inhaled deeply.
"Saint Shaldes…"
"What is it, Commander Darren? Do you have a problem with my decision?"
The Celestial Dragon cut him off with a mocking smile, eyes narrowed in provocation.
Darren's gaze narrowed—but then, strangely, his face lit up with an even more radiant smile than before.
"Of course not. It is her great fortune to be chosen by you, and a glorious honor for the North Blue."
"I merely feared that your two subordinates might accidentally harm your wife. Allow me to assist."
The moment the words left his mouth, Darren vanished.
In the blink of an eye, he appeared in front of the girl.
No one even saw him move—but the two CP agents suddenly stumbled backward, as if pushed by an invisible force.
Darren casually flicked his hand. One agent's sword ripped from its sheath, flew into the air, twisted like molten metal, and reshaped into chains. The metal wrapped around the girl's arms and legs like a pair of shackles.
The leftover material formed a gag, silencing her cries in an instant.
Only her wide, tear-filled eyes remained uncovered—full of terror and confusion.
Darren stepped forward and knelt down, meeting her hateful gaze with a blank expression.
"To serve the great Saint Shaldes is your greatest honor."
He took her by the hand and led her—empty-eyed, hopeless—straight to the Celestial Dragon.
"This way, at least, your journey will be peaceful."
Saint Shaldes looked at him… and suddenly burst into laughter again.
"HAHAHAHA! Entertaining! Very entertaining! You're a fun little Marine, aren't you?!"
His gaze toward Darren was filled with admiration and perverse amusement.
"You, Darren… you're good. I'll put in a word for you with the old men at the top."
Surrounded by the furious, despairing stares of the crowd, Darren bowed slightly and smiled.
"Thank you, my lord."
"HAHAHA… let's head back."
At his command, one of the CP agents crawled forward like a loyal dog, hands and knees on the ground.
Saint Shaldes climbed onto his back and arrogantly gestured toward the port.
The other CP agent followed behind, dragging the girl like a broken doll—her soul seemingly shattered.
"No… don't…"
A hoarse voice called out.
Everyone froze.
The girl's father—covered in blood—was dragging himself up from the ground, barely breathing. He reached a trembling hand toward the departing Celestial Dragon, as if trying to pull his daughter back.
But there was nothing he could grasp.
Gion's face twisted with sorrow. She stepped forward to help him up.
"I'm sorry…"
She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes.
Out at sea, the ornate government vessel raised its sails and disappeared beyond the waves.
And then… the man smiled.
A broken, contorted smile—filled with sorrow, despair, and hollow absurdity.
"Maybe… maybe Liya will have a better life…"
Gion tried to say something—something even she didn't believe.
"You should live on too—"
CRACK!
The man slammed his skull into the wall beside him.
Blood sprayed across Gion's face.
Her vision blurred—everything dyed in red. Her senses turned inside out. The world twisted like a descent into hell.
She vaguely saw the man's blood trailing down the pristine white wall—freshly painted for the Celestial Dragon's arrival.
Crimson on snow-white.
A spiral of colors in her mind.
That sound—the sickening thud of his skull hitting stone—echoed again and again in her head, buzzing like a curse.
Screams broke the silence.
Someone shouted for a doctor. Footsteps. Panic.
"He's still alive!"
"Get help—NOW!"
"We can still save him!"
…
Gion knelt there, dazed and numb.
In her hand, she still clutched a single blooming rose.
Its thorns had pierced her palm. Blood trickled down her fingers.
But she didn't even feel it.
"Live on."
She finally realized how absurd those words were.
Liya's mother had died from illness. Her father had lived for his daughter—she was all he had left.
And now… she was gone.
Taken from him by force.
This man—this dirt-covered, broken man—was now alone.
What reason did he have to live? What strength could keep him going?
In a haze, Gion remembered her words to the girl:
"Don't worry. I'm a Marine. I'll protect you."
"Of course. That's the duty of a Marine."
Gion began to tremble.
She looked up. Her eyes were lost, empty.
The sky above was grey—dim and heavy, as if the light itself had been swallowed.
BOOM—!!
A clap of thunder echoed across the heavens.
And then… snow began to fall.
White flakes drifted gently, like feathers.
"…Snow? In the middle of summer?"
She muttered in disbelief.
In the year 1492 of the Sea Calendar, the tropical island of Batia saw its first snowfall in decades.
The snow wasn't cold.
It settled softly onto Gion's shoulders as she turned, stunned, toward the silent figure standing nearby.
The Commander of the North Blue.
Captain Darren.
His back stood tall and motionless, and her mind froze—numb.
And in that moment…
She understood.
She finally understood what Admiral Sengoku meant:
"This ocean… is far too vast. The light of justice can't reach every dark, filthy, and twisted corner."
---
To be continued...