Under Garling Saint's cold, piercing gaze, Musgarud's face turned pale. He forced himself to speak through the pressure that made breathing difficult:
"Charlmarco… he tried to lay his hands on Princess Shirahoshi of the Ryugu Kingdom — in the middle of the World Conference! He intended to abduct her. I… I only acted to stop him. Even for us, the Celestial Dragons, such recklessness at this crucial time — if it were to disrupt the Five Elders' plans or damage relations between allied nations — would never be tolerated."
Cold sweat drenched his forehead as he stared up at Garling like a criminal awaiting judgment.
Garling's expression remained unreadable. He studied Musgarud in silence for several long seconds before finally nodding faintly — to Musgarud's surprise and relief.
"You're right," Garling said flatly. "Even as Celestial Dragons — beings above all others — one must still know when and where one may act."
Then he turned toward Charlmarco Saint, who sat trembling on the ground, his face filled with fear.
"Charlmarco," Garling said in a voice that could freeze fire, "your Heavenly Tribute share for this year is hereby revoked. Do you agree?"
"Yes, yes! I agree, Garling Saint!" Charlmarco bobbed his head desperately.
Right now, all he wanted was to leave — to run back to the safety of his estate.
He knew how dangerous the moment was. If he angered Garling or the Five Elders, they could strip him of his Celestial Dragon status entirely.
Today was cursed.
All he'd wanted was to capture a mermaid princess — something that should have been easy. Even with Sortris Saint and Freya Saint competing, he was sure he'd win.
They were younger and less wealthy; his Heavenly Tribute allowance far surpassed theirs. The mermaid was practically his already — perhaps after a brief bidding war.
But somehow, everything had spiraled into disaster.
In his mind, Charlmarco conveniently ignored Rorschach's interference and placed all the blame squarely on Musgarud.
That damned Musgarud had ruined everything — ruined his fun, made him lose face, and even gotten him slapped by Garling himself.
The whole Donquixote family was cursed, he thought bitterly.
First there had been Donquixote Homing Saint, who'd foolishly chosen to leave Mary Geoise to "live as an equal among commoners."
And how had that ended?
With his death — torn apart by mobs — and his head cut off by his own son.
That same son, carrying Homing's severed head, had crawled back to the Holy Land begging to be reinstated as a Celestial Dragon… only to be rejected by the Five Elders.
And now this fool Musgarud, who had once opposed Homing's departure, had apparently gone insane as well — returning from one trip years ago spouting nonsense about "equality" and "mutual respect."
Despite repeated warnings from the Five Elders, he persisted, preaching ideals that disgusted every other Celestial Dragon. As punishment, his Heavenly Tribute shares had been reduced again and again.
Garling's voice cut through Charlmarco's bitter thoughts like a blade.
Without warning, he turned back toward Musgarud — and struck.
Smack!
The sound of the slap cracked through the air.
Musgarud's head snapped sideways. Blood welled from the corner of his mouth as his cheek swelled instantly. He staggered backward and crashed to the ground, dazed, unable to rise for several seconds.
"As for you, Musgarud," Garling said icily, "your Heavenly Tribute for this year is also revoked. And from now on, it will be reduced by another ten percent annually. Do you agree?"
Musgarud coughed, forcing himself upright. His swollen face turned toward Garling, his eyes filled with weary sorrow. "I agree," he rasped.
"Good."
Garling's gloved fingers pushed lightly against the hilt of his western sword, drawing a gleaming inch of its blade.
A deadly aura radiated from it — sharp enough to cut the air — and it lingered like an invisible knife against Musgarud's neck. His body went rigid, sweat running down his spine.
"If there is a next time," Garling said coldly, "I'll sever your head myself… and hang it above the gates of Pangaea Castle."
With that, he cast one last glacial glance at the three young Celestial Dragons who were still frozen in shock. Terrified, they scrambled to their feet and fled toward the castle without another word.
Garling then looked briefly at Rorschach — said nothing — and vanished from sight in a blur.
As soon as he was gone, Charlmarco spat a curse at Musgarud, then gathered his slaves and slunk away as fast as he could.
Only Musgarud remained, standing there with a bleeding mouth and a swollen cheek.
At last, Neptune and the others dared to approach.
The Sea King hesitated before bowing slightly. "Thank you, noble Celestial Dragon. Thank you for stopping him… for saving Princess Shirahoshi."
Musgarud managed a faint, crooked smile through his bruised face. "Neptune… don't you recognize me?"
"Huh? Have we met before?" Neptune frowned, studying him carefully. The face looked familiar, but he couldn't quite recall where he'd seen it.
"It's me! Donquixote Musgarud. Years ago, when I passed through Fish-Man Island, my ship broke down. Queen Otohime saved me."
As he spoke, Musgarud recounted the story of that day.
Neptune's eyes widened in shock. "So it was you! Forgive me for not recognizing you — you've changed so much!"
"Hahaha! Yes, back then I was as vile as the rest of them. But thanks to Queen Otohime's guidance, I realized how foolish I'd been. She taught me that intelligent races should coexist in peace and equality — not enslave and abuse one another. I'm a different man now, reborn."
His words left everyone stunned — Neptune, Cobra, and the others alike.
No one had imagined that such a Celestial Dragon could exist — one who openly defied the twisted pride of his kind.
Compared to the likes of Charlmarco or the Rozwald family, Musgarud was nothing short of a saint among Celestial Dragons.
At his earnest invitation, the group accepted and followed him to his estate within the Holy Land.
The immediate danger had passed, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
Without Rorschach, Cobra, Popla, and Musgarud's intervention, Shirahoshi would likely have been taken away.
Led by Musgarud, they resumed their journey toward Pangaea Castle.
At the rear of the group, a one-armed man approached Rorschach with a friendly smile.
"Vice Admiral Rorschach — it's been a long time! I didn't expect that in just a year, you'd rise from major to candidate for Marine Admiral. The times do change quickly."
Rorschach's eyes narrowed as he studied the man. Then his gaze lit with recognition. "You're… Frissis?"
"That's right!" The one-armed man laughed heartily and clapped Rorschach on the shoulder with surprising warmth.
Rorschach remembered now.
This tall, silver-haired man — missing his right arm — was Frissis, the CP5 officer who had led the escort for the Rozwald family during the Sabaody incident a year ago, when Rorschach had orchestrated their assassination.
Back then, Frissis had fought with desperate courage to protect the Rozwalds, risking his life against Dafirons' attack. Rorschach had never forgotten the sight.
To the public, Frissis had been the perfect example of a Celestial Dragon's loyal dog.
But to the World Government, he was a model officer — one who would sacrifice himself to defend his masters without hesitation.
For that reason, instead of being punished after the incident, he had been reassigned — ironically — to serve under the most troublesome Celestial Dragon of all: Musgarud.
"Thanks to Saint Musgarud's mercy, I'm still alive," Frissis said with a smile full of nostalgia. "He saved me and gave me purpose again."
He looked at Rorschach with genuine admiration. "I've followed your progress closely this past year. It's good to see you weren't unfairly treated — that you've risen as one of the Navy's brightest stars. I'm truly happy for you.
"You've always been loyal to the World Nobles. A man like you deserves recognition. Even though the Rozwalds couldn't be saved, you fulfilled your duty as a Marine."
Rorschach sighed softly, shaking his head. "If only I'd been as strong then as I am now… perhaps the great Rozwald family wouldn't have—"
"Don't blame yourself," Frissis interrupted kindly. "You did all you could. We all saw it."
Then he grinned and patted Rorschach's shoulder again. "Come — let's head to Saint Musgarud's estate. I have a gift for you. I think you'll like it."
"A gift?" Rorschach blinked, taken aback.
He felt a strange sense of emotion stir within him.
He had bled and fought for the Rozwalds — and had indeed suffered under Garling's scrutiny afterward — but to have a CP agent go out of his way to thank him? To even bring him a gift? That was unexpected.
He was about to politely decline.
"Haha, no need to refuse," Frissis chuckled, anticipating his reaction. "I knew you'd say that. A man like you — one of justice and integrity — wouldn't easily accept another's gift. But don't worry… I also have a request."
"A request?" Rorschach asked, intrigued.
He couldn't imagine what a CP5 officer could possibly need from him.
"Patience," Frissis said with a wink. "It wouldn't be right to ask for something before giving the gift first. Let's discuss it at Saint Musgarud's manor."
He glanced around cautiously, as if wary of being overheard.
Rorschach's curiosity deepened.
He hesitated, then asked carefully, "This gift you mentioned… what exactly is it?"
Frissis chuckled. "I'd planned to tell you later, but since you insist — I see no harm. It's a document I obtained at great cost — information on how Zoan-type Devil Fruit users can rapidly develop their abilities and achieve awakening in a short time.
"Heh, well? Interested? I traded heavily with a CP0 officer to get it. It's top-secret material — classified above even most Cipher Pol ranks. Only CP0 and higher officials are allowed access."
"What?"
Rorschach's eyes widened instantly.
(End of Chapter)
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