On the massive iron bridge connecting Navarone's inner and outer islands, two factions were engaged in a fierce, chaotic clash.
The relentless clashing of swords and booming of cannon fire echoed continuously, completely shattering the lingering tranquility before sunset.
The number of pirates imprisoned in the G-8 Fortress was significantly higher than that of a certain G-17 Fortress run by a blonde with a natural perm. Even so, the pirates were still heavily outnumbered by the Marines who had come to suppress them. Furthermore, while one side was well-equipped, the other possessed nothing but their tattered, black-and-white striped prison uniforms.
By all accounts, this should have been a battle with a foregone conclusion. That was precisely why Vice Admiral Jonathan had been confident enough to send a platoon of recruits to handle the suppression.
However, reality defied the Marines' expectations entirely!
"Dammit! Have these pirates gone completely berserk?!"
A Marine officer wearing a "Justice" coat looked down from a high vantage point at the ferocious, feral prisoners in the distance, a grave expression clouding his resolute face.
As the Commander of the Seventh Division of Navarone Fortress and the Chief Recruit Instructor, Commander Ike knew very well that besides subduing these escaped pirates, the primary objective of this operation was to let his fresh recruits get a taste of blood.
But what on earth was going on now? Were these pirates truly supposed to be drained of stamina after months of imprisonment? It didn't look like it at all! Furthermore, this death-defying way of fighting was simply too brutal!
The tall Marine commander took a deep breath. As a competent Marine officer, the more critical the situation, the more he needed to make a calm assessment.
(It's too abnormal. Rather than a prison break, it's more like they're here to throw their lives away! Looking at this momentum, they're the spitting image of a bunch of insane desperadoes!)
Ike fixed his gaze on a pirate built like a bear. The prisoner's left arm had already been severed, and crimson blood was gushing from the wound, yet he seemed completely oblivious to it. With a roar, he lunged furiously like a demon at the Marine soldier who had just attacked him.
"N-No!"
The Marine recruit holding the blood-stained blade was frozen in terror at the sight. Looking at his trembling body and hollow eyes, he had completely forgotten to dodge or fight back.
Bang!
A gunshot echoed, and the one-armed pirate's head instantly burst apart. His broken body collapsed onto the cold ground, kicking up a puff of dust. However, his death did not cause the surrounding pirates to hesitate for even a fraction of a second; they continued to charge forward recklessly!
"Call for reinforcements. Let's not suffer any more meaningless casualties. At this rate, we won't achieve the purpose of training the troops at all. These enemies are way too bizarre."
Handing the rifle, which still had wisps of smoke rising from its barrel, back to the Marine beside him, Commander Ike finished giving his orders to his subordinates. He then took off his coat, drew the saber from his waist, and casually tossed the scabbard onto the ground.
— Shave!
His entire body instantly turned into an afterimage, vanishing from where he stood. By the time his figure reappeared, he was already right in the center of the battlefield!
"Watch closely, you brats! Your instructor is going to teach you how to cut someone down!"
With that, Ike's eyes flashed with a chilling gleam. Tightening his grip on the hilt, he slashed viciously at a nearby pirate...
Slash—Pfft! First blood!
Ah—Pfft! Double kill!
Slash—Pfft! Triple kill!
Beneath the darkening sky, the Marine commander moved like a phantom, weaving through the fiercest parts of the battlefield. Wherever he went, chilling gleams flashed and streaks of blood sprayed. Like a ruthless White Reaper harvesting lives, he quickly cleared out a large open space.
Seeing this, the pirates—who previously seemed to know neither fear nor death—actually refrained from launching another assault. Instead, they took a few steps back. It appeared that the sheer power of this Marine officer had struck fear into the hearts of these thugs.
As the final ray of sunlight slowly faded, night fell, and the battlefield on the bridge drifted into a brief, tense silence.
"It's Commander Ike!"
"So amazing!"
"Instructor finally made his move!"
The Marine recruits, who had been scared out of their wits by the escaped convicts' suicidal attacks, instantly burst into cheers. The focus gradually returned to their panic-stricken eyes. For the first time, they realized just how towering the back of their strict recruit instructor truly was.
"Remember! You are Marines! Your opponents are nothing but mere pirates—there is nothing to fear!"
Covered in blood, Ike gave his saber a gentle flick. With a sharp whoosh, the blood on the blade drew a crimson arc of cruel beauty across the ground.
"Think about how I usually teach you to aim, how to swing your swords! You—"
Whoosh! Before Instructor Ike could finish his lecture, a white spherical object came hurtling toward him at a terrifying speed from the distance!
"!!!"
Commander Ike's pupils contracted instantly, and he instinctively slashed his gleaming silver blade at the unidentified object.
A deafening explosion rang out, violently shaking the entire bridge. Billowing black smoke instantly swallowed the recruit instructor.
"Instructor!"
"Commander Ike!"
"What on earth was that thing that just flew over?!"
This sudden turn of events instantly froze the newly relaxed expressions on the recruits' faces. Pale with shock, they all turned their heads in unison to look toward the direction from which the unidentified object had flown.
A tall, obese, and rather dim-witted-looking man dressed in a prison uniform stood behind the crowd of prisoners. He was swinging a massive baseball bat, and judging by the heavy whooshing sound it made through the air, its weight was absolutely not to be underestimated.
At his feet lay an equally dim-witted dachshund. The dog's body shape was quite bizarre; it was hard to tell whether the dog looked like a gun, or the gun looked like a dog.
"Nice shot, Mr. 4!" spoke a man wearing sunglasses and dressed like a rock singer. He patted Mr. 4 on the shoulder and said excitedly, "Well? Did you take out that Marine officer?"
"N-o-o-o-t... y-e-e-e-t..." the latter replied with a completely calm expression, speaking at a painfully slow pace that could drive anyone mad.
As if to prove Mr. 4's words right, once the cloud of black smoke dissipated, Commander Ike's slightly disheveled figure was revealed.
"Oh? Remnants of Baroque Works? I almost forgot about you troublesome characters."
Ike dusted the soot off his clothes, his face livid. As a Marine commander, an attack of that caliber was nothing to him, but looking completely disheveled was unavoidable—and worse, he had lost face right in front of so many recruits.
"Though I should capture you first to interrogate you about why these prisoners have gone mad, I don't think I have the patience for that right now..."
Feeling like he had lost face in front of his subordinates and students, the Marine commander's lips twitched slightly with rage. He took a deep breath, then forcefully swung the long blade in his hand toward Mr. 4 and Mr. 5.
"Sky-Cleaving Slash!"
Accompanied by the ear-piercing sound of tearing air, a pale blue flying slash shot violently toward the two Baroque Works assassins! Pale with shock, the duo attempted to dodge, but the Marine commander's flying slash attack was simply too fast, arriving right in front of them in the blink of an eye—
"36 Pound Phoenix!"
A spiral flying slash erupted from the opposite direction, precisely intercepting Ike's Sky-Cleaving Slash in midair.
Boom!!! The two flying slash attacks collided instantly, bursting into a deafening roar like muffled summer thunder as they canceled each other out. The resulting shockwave produced a fierce gale that sent the surrounding prisoners tumbling head over heels.
"This slash is..." Ike's eyes narrowed slightly. His expression turned grave, and his hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword.
Tap, tap, tap...
Accompanied by the sound of steady footsteps, a green-haired swordsman wielding two blades—with a third gripped firmly in his mouth—slowly walked out from the distance.
"Sorry I'm late."
Zoro, with the Wado Ichimonji clamped between his teeth, spoke nonchalantly, his eyes locked dead onto the Marine commander across from him.
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze