"Mossi, Mossi!"
"This is Colonel Ron of Naval Headquarters!"
On the slow-moving warship, Ron reclined on a sun lounger, basking in the sun. A Den Den Mushi on the table beside him reflected a stern, authoritative face.
"Colonel Ron, this is headquarters. Gris Island has been attacked by the Raiding Pirates. You are ordered to rush there immediately for support."
"Raiding Pirates?"
Ron frowned. The Raiding Pirates were infamous, a formidable crew in the first half of the Grand Line.
Their crew numbered 3,000, and both the captain and first mate had bounties exceeding 30 million.
With just his fleet, taking them down would be quite challenging.
"Headquarters has also dispatched Colonel Sakazuki to provide assistance," came the voice from the other end of the phone bug.
Sakazuki? Akainu?
Ron raised an eyebrow. With Sakazuki involved, handling the Raiding Pirates would be easier.
Sakazuki was still relatively new to the Marines at this time, not yet the Admiral he would later become. Still, as a Logia Devil Fruit user, wielding the destructive power of the Lava-Lava Fruit, his combat strength was no less than that of a Marine Vice Admiral.
Headquarters likely sent him to engage the Raiding Pirates, providing Sakazuki time to arrive. But asking Ron, a mere colonel, to delay them was essentially sending him in as cannon fodder.
Ron wanted to refuse but couldn't find a valid reason.
Gris Island belonged to a World Government member nation. The Marines couldn't ignore their request for help without angering other member nations and risking political unrest. Sacrificing one or two fleets was an acceptable loss to the Marine top brass.
If anything went wrong due to a delayed response, he would be the one held accountable.
However, if he made it on time, regardless of the outcome, he would be credited.
Success in such a high-stakes mission might earn him a Commodore rank for his efforts.
"Change course! Full speed to Gris Island!"
Ron squinted at the endless horizon. His fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, and a confident gleam appeared in his eyes.
His sword hadn't tasted blood since its evolution, and now it was time for it to drink deeply.
Once the Raiding Pirates' blood was devoured, his Crimson Cry would become even more formidable. The Raiding Pirates were indeed strong, but now, he had the strength to face them head-on.
Two hours later, a vast island came into view. Dozens of pirate ships dotted the shoreline, engaged in battle with the island's Royal Army.
The World Government exercised tight control over its member nations, allowing them their own military forces, but strictly limiting their size. This restriction was meant to prevent any allied nation from becoming too powerful and challenging the government's supremacy.
"Captain! A Marine warship is approaching from behind!"
On one of the pirate ships, a lookout spotted the approaching warship and immediately reported it.
"A warship? Marines coming here to die, eh?"
Bloom, the captain of the Raiding Pirates, sneered as he spotted the lone vessel.
"Frank, take a few ships and deal with these lifeless Marines."
In no more than two hours, the pirates would have broken through the island's defenses. Once that happened, the kingdom would be theirs.
Before the Marines could send a large force, they would plunder enough to ensure a lifetime of wealth. With that money, who would remain a pirate? Why risk life and limb when one could retire as a wealthy man on a peaceful island?
Do they think we became pirates just for fun?
No, it was always about the money.
"Leave it to me, Captain!"
Frank, the first mate, grinned, the scars on his face twisting like feral creatures.
"Quick Sword Frank, the notorious pirate with a bounty of 35 million."
As the pirate ships neared without any hesitation, the Marines aboard Ron's warship grew visibly uneasy. A bounty of 35 million marked Frank as a significant threat in the first half of the Grand Line, more than a match for an average Marine colonel. And their captain, a Devil Fruit user with a 50 million bounty, was even more dangerous.
On the pirate ship's bow, Frank stood tall, eyeing the approaching warship with a savage gleam.
"Ram them directly!"
Cannon fire erupted, and a round of shells collided with the pirate ship's hull. The distance between the two vessels closed rapidly, bringing them within striking range.
Frank leaped from the pirate ship, landing squarely on the Marine warship's deck.
"A swordsman?"
Ron watched the black figure descend, a sly smile curving his lips.
At that level, he's coming to his death.
Killing him will take less than two strokes.
Clang!
Crimson Cry shot from its sheath, releasing a bloody arc that sliced through the air.
"What?"
Frank's expression darkened as he saw the incoming slash. He raised both swords to block the blow.
Puff!
The bloody slash shattered his swords and carved a vicious wound across his body. Frank barely had time to scream before his blood was drawn into the blade, devoured by Crimson Cry.
Though he'd witnessed it before, Ron couldn't help but marvel at Crimson Cry's terrifying power.
A pirate with a 35 million bounty would have required a life-or-death struggle in his prime, but now, Ron had slain him with a single strike.
Blood poured into the blade, and Ron could feel a growing, terrifying energy brewing within it.
His eyes widened with astonishment.
"Is it... evolving?"
The Fruit of Evolution gave all things the potential to evolve. Crimson Cry's ability to absorb blood was only the starting energy for its evolution, and now the process was reaching its peak.
His sword was undergoing its first full transformation.
As for what would emerge after the evolution, even Ron wasn't sure.
The evolution of any object could follow unpredictable paths. The Fruit of Evolution endowed things with the ability to evolve, but Ron couldn't control the direction of the evolution itself.
One thing, however, was certain: Crimson Cry would only grow more formidable.
The blade pulsed rhythmically, as though it had a heartbeat, the tempo gradually slowing as the evolution completed.
"It's done evolving? Why doesn't it feel much different?"
Ron eyed the sword curiously. The blade's color had darkened slightly, its texture more intricate, but otherwise, it seemed unchanged.
Before he could reflect further, something happened.
Red tendrils sprouted from the hilt, burrowing into his veins like roots.
Ron winced at the faint sting, his brow furrowing in confusion.
What... is this.