Port Sumner had fallen, but the victory was bittersweet. The rebellion's forces had suffered heavy casualties, and the cost of holding such a critical stronghold weighed heavily on the leaders. For Eric, the triumph marked the peak of his campaign in the East Blue, but also the beginning of a far more dangerous phase.
The Marines were not retreating. They were regrouping.
Eric stood on the fortress walls overlooking the sea. The rebellion's crimson banners fluttered in the wind, but his gaze was sharp, focused on the horizon. He could feel it—the storm was coming.
"You look like you're waiting for something," Nami said as she joined him, her tone unreadable.
Eric smirked faintly. "I am. They're coming."
She frowned, crossing her arms. "We've just taken one of their most critical bases. You think they'll attack again so soon?"
"They don't have a choice," Eric replied, his blood blade forming briefly in his hand. "We've cut them off from the Grand Line. They'll send everything they have to take it back."
"And what if everything means an admiral?" Nami asked, her voice quieter.
Eric's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Then we remind them why they should've stayed in Marineford."
The rebellion's council convened in the central tower of Port Sumner. The room was heavy with tension as the leaders discussed their next moves.
Jax leaned over the table, his scarred hands gripping its edges. "Reports from the scouts confirm it—a fleet is assembling near Seawatch Harbor. It's massive. Twice the size of the last one."
Korvin, the grizzled smuggler, sighed. "They're bringing everything they've got. Ships, soldiers, weapons… and rumors of an admiral."
Aran's grin faded, his usual levity replaced with a grim seriousness. "You're sure about the admiral?"
Nami nodded, her expression tense. "The Perseverance is leading the fleet. That's Admiral Rowen's flagship. If he's here, this isn't just a battle—it's a reckoning."
Eric stood at the head of the table, his sharp eyes scanning the map. "Then we give them one."
"Eric," Nami said, her voice steady but firm. "This isn't like the other battles. Rowen is one of the strongest admirals in the Marines. He's not just here to defeat us—he's here to crush us."
Eric's smirk didn't waver. "Then we make sure he regrets it."
The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.
The rebellion's preparations were swift but meticulous. Cannons were mounted along the cliffs, trenches dug, and every available fighter trained for the coming storm. The fortress buzzed with activity, its defenders driven by both fear and defiance.
Eric spent the days leading up to the battle honing his abilities. His blood blade shifted forms with increasing fluidity, and his control over his powers deepened with each passing moment.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Nami said one evening as she found him training alone in the fortress courtyard.
Eric didn't stop, his blade slicing through the air in a blur of motion. "I have to be ready," he said, his voice steady but sharp.
"For what?" she asked, stepping closer. "You're already stronger than anyone I've ever seen."
"For him," Eric replied, his blade dissolving in his hand.
Nami's frown deepened, but she didn't argue further. Instead, she stood beside him in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
The Marine fleet arrived at dawn.
The horizon filled with sails, the waters churning as warships advanced in tight formation. At their center was the Perseverance, its iron-plated hull glinting in the sunlight. Standing on its deck was Admiral Rowen, his presence commanding even from a distance.
Rowen was a tall, imposing figure with a sharp, angular face and piercing blue eyes. His Marine coat billowed in the wind, and at his side hung a long, curved saber that seemed to hum with latent energy.
"He's here," Nami said, her voice low.
Eric smirked, his blood blade forming in his hand. "Good."
The battle began with a thunderous roar as the Marine fleet opened fire. Cannons blazed, and the fortress walls shuddered under the onslaught. The rebellion's forces returned fire, their cannons striking the advancing ships with precision.
Eric's flagship led the counterattack, darting through the chaos as smaller, faster ships harassed the larger Marine vessels. Grappling hooks flew, and Eric leaped onto one of the enemy warships, his blood blade carving through the defenders with ruthless efficiency.
The Marines were disciplined, but Eric was relentless. His strikes were precise, each one cutting through armor and flesh with deadly precision.
"Blood Manifestation," he muttered, the words instinctual.
The blood pooling around him shimmered, rising into the air and forming a storm of floating blades. The blades darted toward the enemy ranks, their movements unpredictable and deadly.
The Marines faltered, their formation breaking under the relentless assault.
As the battle raged, Eric felt a shift in the air. A powerful presence loomed over the battlefield, and he turned to see Admiral Rowen stepping onto the deck of the Perseverance.
Rowen's gaze locked onto Eric, and a faint smirk crossed his lips. He drew his saber, the weapon's edge glowing faintly with a shimmering, otherworldly energy.
"So, you're the Blood Shadow," Rowen said, his voice calm but edged with steel. "You've made quite a mess of the East Blue. Let's see if you're as dangerous as they say."
Eric smirked, his blade shifting into a curved saber. "And let's see if you're worth the hype."
The duel began in a blur of motion, Rowen's saber striking with the precision of a scalpel. Eric parried, his blood blade meeting the admiral's weapon in a shower of sparks.
"You've got skill," Rowen said, his strikes relentless. "But skill alone won't save you."
"Good thing I've got more than that," Eric replied, his grin sharp.
He unleashed his power, the blood around him rising into a storm of daggers that struck at Rowen from all sides.
Rowen moved with eerie grace, his saber creating arcs of light that deflected the projectiles. "Impressive," he said. "But predictable."
Eric smirked, his sharp eyes gleaming. "Not yet."
The daggers shifted mid-flight, converging on Rowen in a coordinated strike. The admiral raised his saber, its glow intensifying as it cut through the attack with a single, decisive motion.
For the first time, Eric felt a flicker of unease.
"You're strong," Rowen admitted, his tone almost casual. "But you're not ready for this."
With a burst of speed, Rowen closed the distance between them, his saber slicing through the air with deadly precision. Eric dodged, his blood blade shifting into a shield that absorbed the strike before retaliating with a sharp spike.
The duel was relentless, each combatant testing the other's limits. Eric's powers gave him an edge, but Rowen's experience and skill were undeniable.
Finally, with a surge of energy, Eric's blade shifted into a massive greatsword. He swung with all his strength, the strike connecting and forcing Rowen back.
The admiral's smirk faltered, and he raised his saber in a defensive stance. "You've got potential," he said, his voice edged with respect. "But potential isn't enough."
"We'll see about that," Eric replied, his sharp eyes gleaming.
The battle raged on around them, the rebellion's forces holding their ground against the Marine onslaught. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the tide of the battle began to shift.
Rowen's fleet, battered and bloodied, started to retreat. The Perseverance turned away from the fortress, its cannons falling silent as the remaining ships followed suit.
Eric stood on the deck of his flagship, his blood blade dissolving in his hand. Nami joined him, her expression a mix of relief and frustration.
"You did it," she said, her voice soft.
"We did it," Eric replied, his smirk faint.
She shook her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips. "You're impossible."
Eric chuckled, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Maybe. But now they know."
The rebellion had survived, but Eric knew this was only the beginning.
The Marines would come again.
And so would he.