That day was anything but ordinary in Mary Geoise;
the death of a slave in a forgotten corner, and a severe injury to a Celestial Dragon who fell and didn't rise again after receiving a direct blow to the head, were unprecedented events.
Slaves and Celestial Dragons began to gather, and with every moment, the crowd grew, forming a large assembly watching in astonishment.
Peter, amidst this gathering, stood trying to grasp what was happening. He looked down at his clothes, then at the clothing of the Celestial Dragons around him.
Here, he realized why they had been speaking to him differently than they did to other slaves. He was dressed in the same luxurious attire that marked them apart from others.
They considered themselves "lords of the world," while viewing those around them as mere "slaves." As it's been said about them,
"they are the illusion of power wearing a mask of grandeur, with hearts too weak to even face the least of the free."
The situation became clear to Peter now; the foolish system had made him one of these worthless humans, the Celestial Dragons. The reason was still unknown, but he began to understand, bitterly, that this place was nothing but a reflection of oppression and slavery.
He thought angrily...!!
Why did the system make him a Celestial Dragon? Hadn't he asked to be a regular person in this vast world? Many questions flooded his mind, yet he found no answer, as if this cursed world left no room for explanations...
An old man emerged from the crowd, frail with age, with a bent back and sharp eyes that displayed a profound wisdom and ancient weariness behind thick glasses. His face was covered in the wrinkles of time, with a short white beard that trembled with each step.
His body was thin, wrapped in an old gray coat that seemed to have seen harsher days than its owner, with a worn leather bag slung over his shoulder, containing simple tools that spoke of a deep medical skill.
The doctor approached the injured Celestial Dragon slowly but steadily. He examined the lifeless body on the ground and cast a quick glance at the deep wound on his head, then said in a low yet clear voice for all to hear:
"This is a serious injury, a direct hit to the skull… severe concussion, and possibly brain damage. Even if he survives this, he will never fully recover."
These words were like a poisoned sword in Peter's ear; they echoed within him, filling him with a seething hatred he had never known before.
He recalled that painful moment when he was pleading, begging them to save Santiago, who was dying in his arms, only to be met with mockery and harsh silence. Now, here was the doctor showing up only to save the Celestial Dragon after he was injured.
Peter realized the truth; it was clear to him now that they didn't consider slaves human at all, that their souls, no matter how noble or fleeting, were worth nothing to these people but forgotten remnants.
But this realization brought something else, a thread of despair and danger; Peter knew he wouldn't survive this situation, for striking a Celestial Dragon was a crime none could forgive.
The Gorosei or the Holy Knights' leader would surely order his execution, sooner or later.
He felt the weight of the doctor's words like a death sentence, and in a decisive moment, he resolved that he had to flee. He had no other choice.
If he wanted to survive and hold onto the last bit of hope he had in this world, he had to leave now before his fate was sealed in this cursed land.
Behind him came a booming voice like a cannon, firm with a tone of authority. "Seize him!" It was the shout of a Vice Admiral, a seasoned military figure with an intimidating presence, exuding strength and anger.
This man had been sent specifically to enforce order in this place, and he wouldn't tolerate any rebellion for a moment. His soldiers, armed to the teeth, spread around him like an unstoppable tide, surrounding Peter from all sides.
Peter realized there was no turning back. The soldiers were closing in, blocking every possible escape route, but he suddenly noticed a small gap to his right, a passage the soldiers hadn't reached yet.
Without hesitation, he bolted, darting towards that exit, aiming to escape from the headquarters of the World Government, the mightiest force on this earth, and the dwelling place of the arrogant Celestial Dragons.
Peter dashed through the crowd, and along the way, there were several Celestial Dragons. Their eyes, filled with arrogance, turned toward him, frozen with terror. They had never witnessed anyone defy one of them, but Peter paid them no heed, passing through them like a passing breeze, like an untouchable wind, continuing his path without looking back.
He felt his clothes adorned with the symbols of the Celestial Dragons, and a surge of hatred swelled within him for the vile outfit forced upon him, the garb of those scum he despised to the core.
If only the foolish system had let him live as a simple fisherman on an unknown island, or any ordinary life away from this madness, he would have wished for that a hundred times over.
And as he ran, he cursed the system, cursed this twisted world, then, in one swift motion, he tore away part of his accursed attire, freeing himself from it as if shedding all chains of the past.
Suddenly, Peter felt a horrendous pain surging through his head, like a heavy axe driving deep into his skull, tearing his spirit before his body. The pain was sharp, intense, as if waves of lightning were clashing within his mind. The excruciating agony forced him to stop, stumbling, then he fell to his knees, clutching his head with both hands, his face bowed to the ground, unable to move or breathe from the agony.
And with the pain, strange memories began to flood through his mind, like fragments of a past he had never lived. He saw disjointed scenes, images of people, events, and feelings unfamiliar to him, yet they resonated within him as if they were his memories. Perhaps they were the consciousness of the character he had become in this world, a life that didn't belong to him, but its ghost haunted his soul now.
Gradually, the pain subsided, as if the wave of torment had retreated from his mind, leaving a feeling of numbness and confusion. He had no time to think, for as soon as the pain faded, he looked around, gasping for breath and seeing the great castle gate before him, the fortress that housed the Celestial Dragons in Mary Geoise. Behind him, the Vice Admiral and his soldiers advanced, driven by mounting frenzy. The Vice Admiral shouted orders to the soldiers by the gate to close it immediately, to prevent Peter's escape.
Then, without warning, Peter felt something strange overtaking him. He leaped with sudden agility and momentum, as if his body had launched into the air like an eagle, soaring over the soldiers and everyone's heads. The soldiers gaped in shock, one of them dropped his weapon, another froze in place. Peter himself couldn't believe the power that had erupted within him, a power perhaps granted by the system, just as he had requested, now appearing at a critical moment.
He stood atop the massive gate, catching his breath with a look of contempt, gazing down at the soldiers as if they were tiny figures from this height. The Vice Admiral glared at him, his face ablaze with fury, his eyes blazing. His fists clenched around his weapon, and his teeth ground with rage, furious at this open defiance, at the young man slipping through his grip as if mocking his military honor and strength.
Peter leaped gracefully from the peak of the grand gate, like a tiger pouncing forward. The enormous gate, with its tremendous size, took a long time to close, giving Peter a precious opportunity to distance himself from the soldiers still struggling with the weighty iron door. He sped towards the famous chain of carts known as "Salsar," used to transport supplies and slaves from the base of the Red Line to its peak where Mary Geoise lay, like suspended bridges on this colossal cliff.
As Peter neared the carts, he suddenly stopped and turned, looking back where the Vice Admiral, Kaji, shouted furiously, ordering his soldiers to open the gate faster. Amidst all the clamor, Peter raised his voice, taunting.
"What's your name, Commander?" Peter shouted from afar.
Kaji couldn't hear him clearly due to the noise of the massive iron gate closing slowly. He raised his head angrily and yelled back loudly, "What did you say?"
Peter, with a mocking smile, repeated his question, "I asked what your name was, Commander!"
Kaji hesitated for a moment, then shouted with a furious voice, "Kaji… my name is Kaji!"
Peter replied coldly, "fuck you, Kaji."
Kaji's face turned red with rage, becoming a dark crimson from sheer anger. Some of the soldiers quickly burst into laughter at the scene. Kaji shot them a fiery glare and shouted furiously, "Silence, you fools! Do you see your commander as a joke?"
The flames of anger ignited in Kaji's eyes as Peter leaped toward the "Silsalar" cart, escaping like an untouchable phantom, heading down the Red Line, leaving the Vice Admiral in a storm of fury and wounded pride.