Chapter 30: Sorcerer
“Eschbach, unexpectedly······ got tied down?”
“What an amazing Baldy!!!”
Dick raised his head, gazing at the mountain-like massive back shadow trapped in a stalemate combat, his eyes widened; it had been a long time since he last saw Eschbach fighting so restrainedly, since, since when was it?
Ah! Right, since two years ago when Eschbach awakened Observation Haki, he had never seen Eschbach in a prolonged combat situation with anyone; every time it was absolute Violence crushing the enemy, three punches and two kicks, even an iron man could be ground into iron scraps.
“Paramecia Ability User?”
Kappas narrowed his eyes, murmuring softly.
“Your Highness, do we need to······” Dillon lowered his head, looking toward Elus who was watching the excitement with keen interest.
“No need.”
Elus waved his hand.
“That bald guy’s ability is very interesting, giving heat to the air, elasticity to the earth, weight to Stone······ Dillon, do we have intelligence on that Baldy?”
“Sorry, Your Highness, our intelligence is all bought, and there’s no information on that······ Baldy inside, but according to the information the Kingdom has collected over the years, that Baldy bears some resemblance to a Pirate rookie who entered the New World fifteen years ago.”
“Fifteen years ago? Such a distant record?”
The Eckmond Kingdom, as a powerhouse in the New World, has always paid great attention to intelligence collection; though not as formidable as the Queen of the Red Light District or Big News Morgans, it records any notable figures and Events, and the Pirate rookies rushing into the New World each year are always a key focus of Attention.
Elus reluctantly withdrew his gaze from the front, slightly tilting his head to look at Dillon, “Who is it?”
“I saw the Newspaper from that time in the Kingdom’s archives; it was Marineford Era 1502, the fourth year of this so-called Pirate Era; at that time, because of Pirate King’s words before his execution, Pirates on The Sea surged more than tenfold, and all sorts of freaks flooded into the New World endlessly······”
“The point, Dillon, get to the point; I’m not that idiot Dick, I still know such basic historical knowledge.” Elus rolled his eyes.
Why is he giving a history lesson here?
“Yes, Your Highness, I got off topic.”
Admitting fault straightforwardly, Dillon reorganized his wording, paused for two seconds, and spoke again: “Marineford Era 1502, among the most prominent group of Pirate rookies in the New World at that time, there was a Pirate nicknamed [Sorcerer], whose real name was Marcus; he boasted back then about challenging Whitebeard, but there was no news afterward; some speculated he was casually smashed to death by Whitebeard······ Now it seems, this Sorcerer didn’t challenge Whitebeard at all, but was subdued by Umit.”
“Sorcerer······ Do we have any intelligence on his ability?”
“No on that; at the time, no one seemed to figure out what Devil Fruit this Sorcerer ate, not even the Navy revealed his details; it’s still a small unsolved mystery to this day, and also······”
Dillon hesitated a bit before saying: “The Sorcerer back then still had hair, he wasn’t Baldy.” He didn’t like saying such things, as it always felt like mocking someone’s physical defect behind their back, but duty called, so he had to say it.
“Got bald and got stronger? Interesting, let’s take a good look at what this Sorcerer is capable of······ Tsk! Looks like we can’t watch the show peacefully until the Trouble is resolved; hey, hello there! Your Excellency the King of Maritime Transport, I’m Sokachio Elus.”
Elus stopped Dick who was about to act, and greeted Your Excellency the King of Maritime Transport with a smiling face.
Led by King of Maritime Transport Umit, a total of fourteen people appeared on a mushroom-shaped rock not far ahead of Elus and the others.
“Black Prince, Sokachio Elus······ This presence is pretty good, no wonder you beat Venkura into that state!”
Umit didn’t rush to act either, but sized up Elus up and down with scrutinizing eyes; that sharp gaze, honed from reading countless people, seemed intent on digging out Elus’s Bone for research, “However, don’t think that having some skills lets you act recklessly in the New World!!!”
“Bang————!!!”
The mushroom-shaped rock was shattered by the kick.
Completely crushed into fragments by the reaction force of Umit’s charged sprint.
The tall Hat and coffee-colored greatcoat were blown away by the Shockwave toward the distant sky; Umit, with his incredibly dense Whiskers, revealed the Magnified Muscle under the greatcoat, solid and firm like steel; he swung his Fist, unleashing a fierce Attack capable of shattering the earth.
The surging fist wind swept over like a real storm, peeling off more than one layer of the ground’s rock strata.
This punch,
Was very hard.
“Hiss—! It hurts!”
Elus’s facial muscles twitched slightly, letting out a pain cry from his body’s instinct.
His right hand was fractured, twisted in an impossible direction, Fresh Blood dripping from the torn flesh wound, staining the ground under his feet drop by drop.
“Kid, without a good Body, you can’t make it in this Godforsaken Place in the New World where people eat you without spitting out the Bone.”
Umit opened his mouth, revealing a row of snow-white neat teeth; his Whiskers, dense like seaweed, swayed gently in the sea wind; looking at Elus’s bloodied right arm, he laughed—that was the extremely ferocious smile of a hunter, the smile of a hungry hunter seeing the finest Prey.
Fist,
Came one after another.
Not giving Elus any chance to breathe, he swung his double Fists like falling meteors, one punch after another, pressing and hammering Elus fiercely.
This is the rule of the New World, pure to the extreme survival of the fittest; here, whoever is strong is Reason, whoever has the bigger Fist is the rule, whoever has the hardest Fist is Justice; Umit showed no disdain toward Elus due to his youth.
On the contrary, the younger Elus was, the heavier his Fists became.
Umit, no longer young, knew full well that this World ultimately belongs to the young; when he grew old and frail, sooner or later some youngster would step on his old Bones to take his position, his power, his Wealth—this was the inevitable trend of the era’s development, an unstoppable torrent.
But!
The more he understood the future outcome, the less the King of Maritime Transport, who had been strong-willed all his life, was willing to accept fate; if he were willing to accept fate, he would now be just a fisherman casting nets in his hometown port, not the King of Maritime Transport who commanded respect and obedience.
Therefore, he would use his own Fist, while he still had Strength, to beat all challengers daring to covet his position into meat paste.
