The air still vibrated with the remnants of magic.
The heat on the surface slowly dissipated, while red particles lingered suspended in the atmosphere. Riser's wings had already vanished, but the runes still turned on his skin like lazy embers.
His presence seemed to hold the world still.
ZAAAAAAP!
The sound ripped through the space on the right, no wind, no warning. The light warped for an instant — and Merlin appeared.
Her body was upright. Her clothes intact. Her gaze steady. Her presence imposed itself immediately, even without words.
"Riser-sama."
The bow was brief, but heartfelt.
Riser's face remained serene for a second before he fully turned to her.
"Stay. Repair the island."
The order came clear, weightless, but with absolute authority. He didn't pause to elaborate. He simply stepped forward, moving away.
"When you're done, bring the civilians back."
Merlin nodded without hesitation.
"The people were teleported safely. I treated their wounds. I explained that the island is under Riser-sama's supervision."
"Very good, Merlin."
Riser's gaze moved slowly across the figures around him.
"Girls, you will remain here on the island. Especially you, Hancock, and you, Merlin."
He took two more steps, while the air around him still vibrated.
"Merlin will rebuild everything. Hancock, it's time for you to show the world what it means to be the new Empress of the Sea."
Hancock stepped forward, hesitating.
"I wanted to go with you..."
Riser's tone didn't change.
"I'll return alone. I have something to settle."
The empress drew a deep breath but stayed quiet. Her eyes lowered for a moment. And she only nodded, with a restrained gesture.
"The rest... is up to you."
The Mangekyō Sharingan spun in Riser's eyes. The edges of space twisted like a painting being wrung.
A black spiral rose in the air, silent.
And then he vanished, absorbed into Kamui's vortex — no light, no sound, no immediate return.
Hancock remained still for two seconds.
The silence felt eternal.
Then her head tilted.
Her shoulders sank.
Her arms crossed tightly under her chest, as if to hold something no longer there.
"He left without me... again..."
The voice came choked. Not a plea, but a weary lament.
She turned her back to the other vampires, stepping away, as if the breeze carried off what little dignity she still held.
Alvida scoffed.
"Oh, for crying out loud... He just went back before us."
Her club rested on her shoulder with disdain.
"You put on this whole drama just because the boss didn't take you by the hand? Get over it, woman."
Hancock didn't answer right away.
Her steps ended near the stone's edge, where the sea still simmered faintly. The wind swept part of her hair to the side.
She slowly turned her face over her shoulder.
"You could never understand what it means to truly love someone."
Her voice came low, without fury. But the weight of sincerity cut the air.
"Someone you'd follow... even into hell."
Alvida raised a brow.
"Understand what? Love someone?"
She lifted her chin with a crooked smile.
"Sweetheart, if it's about the body, mine's the most wanted among all of us. I'm just not clingy. Unlike you, I don't beg for scraps of attention."
The silence that followed was broken by a sharp sound.
CLAC.
The snap came from Merlin's fingers.
Magical energy rippled around like an invisible red breeze. The rune beneath her feet glowed, and the circle expanded with millimetric precision.
Zala vanished first.
Then Mikita, followed by Kaya, Kalifa, and Nojiko.
Alvida opened her mouth to protest, but the glow had already engulfed her.
Her body dissolved into particles before the words even left her lips.
Hancock stood frozen, surprised.
The field emptied in less than three seconds.
Only two remained now.
Merlin walked slowly to the center of the clearing, unhurried.
"You two are far too strong to waste time on petty jealousy."
Her voice wasn't harsh. It was clean, direct.
"The island needs rebuilding, and Riser-sama entrusted that to us. So please..."
She stopped beside Hancock, looking out at the sea.
"...don't make me use a containment seal next time."
Hancock huffed.
Her hands slid along her arms with restrained impatience, as if still yearning to touch the presence that had disappeared minutes earlier.
Merlin didn't respond. She simply turned her wrists with precision. Magical lines began to form in the air around her.
The ground reacted first.
Stone fragments floated lightly, like dust under reversed gravity. The energy of the runes wrapped around the cracked earth, and the debris began to move, as if arranged by invisible hands.
The battlefield's destruction was beginning to be undone.
Hancock stayed silent.
She watched.
Her legs unmoving. Her eyes fixed. The wind pulled at her hair like loose strands caught in a scene suspended in time.
Merlin continued her gestures.
The energy lines expanded in smooth arcs, filling the space with discreet radiance. Stones returned to their places. Pillars rose. The island's architecture rebuilt itself with almost ritual reverence.
Nothing was said for long minutes.
Until a new magical formation took shape at the clearing's center: a containment seal prepared, in case it was needed to keep order.
But it stayed dormant.
Secondary runes followed in sequence. Each connected to another, weaving an invisible web that restructured the island's foundation. Cracks in the ground vanished. Splits in the buildings closed. Fallen trees grew back from stumps, magically restored with precision.
The once-devastated surface now took on contours of order.
The light around them grew steadier.
The last rune activated with a clean sweep of her hand.
Merlin then raised her right arm, tracing a triangular seal in the air. Three circles spun in the sky above the clearing. The sound that followed wasn't noise — it was the return of something long silenced.
A wave of energy ran through the ground.
A hundred meters away, portals began to open.
The island's inhabitants emerged in organized groups. None screamed. None ran. They seemed aware, alert, yet calm. All bore visible scars, fresh bandages, and watchful eyes.
Women held children. The elderly scanned the surroundings with mute suspicion. The young walked with firm but unhurried steps. No one questioned. No one protested.
All stopped when they saw Hancock.
She approached the edge of the clearing. Her posture erect, her chin raised. The wind tugged at her cape lightly, but her gaze held steady like a living statue.
She took a single step forward.
"This island is now under the protection of Empress Hancock."
The words echoed clear in the air, no background noise.
But the atmosphere shifted.
Even with all her beauty which seemed almost magical, too perfect to be human the civilians' eyes hesitated.
Their expressions froze for an instant. Muscles tensed in silence.
The reason wasn't her. Nor the words.
It was the territory.
That land, even without official maps, still carried an old name. Still pulsed with the ghost of a fallen king. The island had been Whitebeard's territory for countless years.
And that name still outweighed any other.
The tension wasn't spoken, but spread like a thin mist. The elders' eyes fixed on the ground. The young pretended not to hear. No cheers. No protests.
But also… no applause.
Acceptance came from the absence of opposition — not from sincere support.
And that kind of silence, Hancock knew well.
Merlin did not interfere.
She knew rebuilding the island was easy. Rebuilding respect… would take time.
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