Snow still fell gently over Drum Island, muffling the sounds of grief and murmurs in the capital square. As the Ark of Raijin coasted into the harbor, the Angel Pirates took in the sight before them. The once-pristine royal castle loomed ahead… or at least, what remained of it. A gaping, perfectly vertical hole had been burned straight through its heart, as though a spear of the gods themselves had descended from the heavens to smite it.
The smell of scorched stone and charred timber still lingered on the cold air. People huddled together, some weeping openly, others murmuring in disbelief. Enel stepped off the gangplank first, his golden staff tapping lightly against the frosted wood. His sharp blue eyes scanned the devastation with an expression that hovered somewhere between satisfaction and indifference.
"So clean… no mess at all," he mused under his breath.
It was exactly what he expected. The lightning bolt had struck at nearly three hundred and fifty million volts—only a fraction of what his Logia abilities might one day reach. In the back of his mind, Enel considered that natural lightning could heat the surrounding air to fifty thousand degrees, and he believed—no, he knew—that his powers could surpass the natural limit of one billion volts with enough training.
"One day," he thought, his lips twitching in a faint smile, "one day I'll reach that… and go beyond."
But for now, a quarter of that power had been more than enough to turn King-to-be Wapol and his brother Musshuru into nothing more than drifting molecules in the wind.
Erza's sharp eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. "The precision was almost surgical," she remarked quietly. "Not a wall collapsed except for where you aimed."
Escanor crossed his massive arms, his warm breath steaming in the cold air. "Hmph. Efficient… but less dramatic than I would have made it."
"Not everything needs to be a sun explosion," Tatsumaki said dryly, floating along beside them.
Before the crew could continue their observations, the heavy thud of boots came from the snow-covered road ahead. A tall, wiry old woman in a heavy coat, her hair spilling out from beneath a fur hat, marched toward them with an expression equal parts fury and worry.
"ALUCARD!" Dr. Kureha's voice cut through the murmurs of the crowd like a whip. "What in the blazes happened here?! I could smell ozone in the air halfway up the mountain!"
Alucard, who had been walking just behind Enel, didn't flinch. He had expected her the moment they set foot on land. "Calm yourself, Kureha," he said, his tone calm but firm. "And send for Hiriluk. Immediately."
Kureha stopped just short of him, glaring up into his crimson eyes. For a long moment, it seemed as if she might press further, but something in his gaze—or perhaps the sudden tension of the townsfolk gathering around—made her grit her teeth and turn to bark orders at a passing villager.
From a nearby alley, a small figure peeked out. A young reindeer, still with his blue nose and hesitant eyes, watched from a distance. Chopper's hooves shifted in the snow, but he stayed put.
Enel's gaze flicked toward him briefly, then away. In his mind, he weighed the possibility of speaking to the young doctor-to-be… and dismissed it.
"Not yet. His chain is still bound. That is for the Straw Hats to break, not me."
He knew interfering with the events that would one day form the Straw Hat Pirates was dangerous. Even the smallest disruption might ripple into a cascade of unintended consequences. And so, he would leave the little reindeer alone.
Minutes later, Hiriluk came running down the slope from the mountain path, his pink hat bobbing. He was breathing heavily, but when he saw the castle, his expression hardened.
Alucard raised a hand for silence. Slowly, the crowd gathered, drawn by a strange mix of fear and curiosity. Every living soul on Drum Island seemed to be listening now.
With a sigh that carried just the right amount of theatrical grief, Alucard began, "My friends… it is with heavy heart that I bring you grave news. The remnants of the royal family—Wapol and Musshuru—are no more."
A ripple of shock ran through the villagers. Even those who had heard rumors earlier now had confirmation. Some cried openly. Others bowed their heads. Wapol's reign had not yet begun, and so his cruelty was still only rumor to most here.
"Although it may seem cold to speak of such matters so soon," Alucard continued, "we face a problem that cannot wait. The Reverie is approaching. If Drum Island has no leader present, it will be seen as both an insult and a weakness before the World Government. That could invite dangers far greater than anything we have faced before."
There were murmurs of agreement. A fisherman near the front called out, "Aye, he's right. We can't go unrepresented!"
"That's why," Alucard said, his voice steady, "I propose a ruler chosen from among those who have served this land tirelessly—not from some distant bloodline. I speak of Dr. Hiriluk… or Dr. Kureha."
Kureha snorted immediately. "Bah. You won't catch me sitting in some stuffy throne room all day."
Hiriluk's eyes widened. "Me?! I'm no king!"
"You don't need to be," Alucard replied. "You just need to care for your people. The rest can be learned."
A quick, informal vote was taken right there in the square. It wasn't unanimous, but the majority leaned heavily toward Hiriluk. The man stammered in disbelief, but when the villagers began clapping and cheering, he bowed his head in acceptance.
"Looks like you're stuck with the job," Kureha said with a smirk.
That evening, as the snow deepened, Alucard returned to the Ark of Raijin carrying his belongings. The crew watched as he stepped aboard, a long wrapped object in his hands. He set his pack down and, with deliberate care, unwrapped the object to reveal a sheathed sword.
From the moment it was exposed, a dark pressure seemed to fill the room. The scabbard was black lacquer with crimson etchings, and even through the sheath, the blade's aura was palpable—hungry, almost predatory.
Erza's eyes narrowed. "That aura… it's like Benehime's bloodlust, but darker. Wilder."
Alucard smiled faintly and drew the blade. The steel was a deep, reflective crimson, the edge gleaming like fresh blood under the lantern light. Gasps went around the crew.
"This," Alucard said, "is Shichiseiken. One of the twenty-one Great Grade swords. Cursed beyond measure, yet unmatched in beauty and power."
Tatsumaki floated closer, squinting. "Feels… malicious. Like it wants to cut something right now."
"It does," Alucard said plainly. "The sword heals its wielder, strengthens them… but seeks to corrupt the weak. It drinks blood to feed itself, and from that blood, it can produce flames—once green, now red, from centuries in my possession."
Enel's eyes gleamed with recognition. He had seen a similar blade before—different in color, but identical in presence.
"How did you get it?" Enel asked, genuinely curious.
"A century ago," Alucard began, "I traveled to Asuka Island for work as a doctor. I heard the story of this sword—created by the God of Asuka, meant for a king. But greed tore the king's sons apart. They fought a war over a woman, and the sword drank the blood and negative intent of their kingdom until it was far from holy. After the woman sacrificed herself to end the bloodshed, the princes, out of guilt, sealed it with three divine orbs for over a hundred years… until I took it."
"Amusingly, it tried to fight my will." He smiled faintly. "Its malice was nothing compared to mine. The people gladly gave it away."
The crew exchanged glances—equal parts impressed and wary.
Enel gave a slow nod. "A fitting weapon for you, vampire."
Alucard slid the sword back into its scabbard. "I thought so."
The Ark's anchor was raised, and as the crew prepared to sail, the wind shifted. Far out to sea, dark sails appeared on the horizon.
The Marines had arrived.