In most cases, words alone don't have the magical power to make someone actually roll away. But fists and feet are another matter. So when Rogu said "roll away!", he backed it up with a powerful kick. As a result, Marcello was extremely "obedient", and actually "rolled" back.
And not in a figurative sense, but in the most literal sense. His massive body, like a rapidly rotating wheel, began to tumble along the ground until it crashed into a crowd of pirates.
- Captain!!!
- Great captain Marcello!
- Oh my God, what's going on here?!
The pirates, who had just begun to rejoice at the raising of their captain, found themselves once again in complete confusion. But Marcello was not going to lie on the ground again, lost in thought. As soon as his body stopped rolling, he jumped to his feet with incredible strength.
His eyes were bloodshot, the rage in them so intense it seemed it would set the air on fire. He opened his mouth, but instead of words, all that came out was a hoarse groan, followed by a sharp cough and a fountain of blood.
And then, roaring, he unleashed his rage again: "I'll kill you!!!"
Never before had Marcello experienced such humiliation. It was a real shame, unbearable for his ego. Since he set sail, he had encountered both the Marines and other pirates, but no one could make him take the fight seriously. Victory was always predetermined, and his glory seemed unshakable. And so the myth of the Great Marcello was created.
But now, on this remote island in the East Blue, he faced a defeat he could never have imagined. And now, the rage that filled every cell of his body turned to strength.
He slammed his feet into the ground, as if he was about to explode from the effort, and lunged forward. His right hand clenched into a fist, the muscles tensed, and the veins bulged, ready to release all the power he had accumulated. His fist, shrouded in the whistling wind, shot straight for the Horn.
- Hmm... - Rogu looked at the enraged enemy, who resembled an enraged lion. After thinking for a while, he made a decision: - Still, it's better to kill. All these victims can only be washed away with blood.
He briefly thought that if he were to throw Marcello back again with a light blow, it would be too humiliating.
"I need to be a little more active," he decided, stepping forward. A blade immediately appeared in his hand, its edge seemingly playing with the light. His fingers easily grasped the handle, and his lips whispered, "Crescent Style. First Style."
Bam! - a barely audible trembling was heard through the air. At the same moment, a thin light, like a crescent moon, flashed through the air.
Rogu's body was already behind Marcello. The latter's fist never reached its target. His body suddenly froze in place, and his clenched fist slowly unclenched. In his eyes, where rage had blazed a moment ago, there was suddenly emptiness.
A thin scarlet line appeared on his throat.
Boom! - his massive body fell to the ground. His head, having made a couple of rolls, finally rolled to the side and froze nearby.
- He's dead!
- Captain Marcello is dead!
- This is impossible!!!
The pirates looked on with absolute horror. Their great captain had fallen. His image, so long celebrated, had been shattered in an instant.
"Run!" one of the pirates screamed, breaking the silence. His voice was full of panic. "This guy is a monster!"
The great Marsello cannot be defeated by a man. Anyone who could defeat him could only be a monster!
If even a monster like Marcello couldn't resist, what can we say about them?
Run!
The only way out is to run!
This fear, like a brand, was imprinted in the souls of each of the pirates. Frantically rushing forward, they tried to leave this place without looking back. After all, staying here meant one thing - death.
- Oh, so you came, killed, and now you think you can just leave? - Rogu's voice suddenly sounded behind them.
Every pirate flinched. The most advanced ones stopped abruptly, because right in front of them, somehow, stood that same young swordsman. He smiled, baring his teeth, his voice was soft, but his words sent a chill down your spine: "I always thought that I lived too idealistically. But it turns out that even you, pirates who rob and kill for survival, also like to fantasize. However, unfortunately, today you will not be able to leave this place alive."
"He… he's only one!" one of the pirates shouted.
- Yes, then let's all do it together! Let's kill him!
— We're doomed anyway, so why not take a risk?!
The pirates looked at each other, their gazes filled with desperate determination, mixed with the ferocity of cornered beasts.
"You leave us no choice," said one of them. "Then we will fight to the end!"
- Kill him!
— For the great... ahem, for myself!!!
- I will become the King of the Pirates!!!
The cry of the Pirate King sounded particularly ridiculous, but that was the spirit of the pirates, who were trying to shout not for the sake of meaning, but to give themselves courage. Rogu, watching their chaotic onslaught, narrowed his eyes slightly, and a mocking smile played at the corners of his lips.
"The Pirate King, huh? It always felt like some kind of game," he muttered. "Luffy was cutting his way through the crowds at Enies Lobby. And here I am, in Moonlight Village, training for three years and I've never set foot on the sea. Perhaps this would be a good time to test it out..."
He took a light step forward. He held an imaginary blade with his left hand, as if he had a real sword, and said, "Rampant Moon - One Hundred and Thirty-First Style."
Pah! - a barely audible vibrating echo spread around as his silhouette disappeared, leaving only blinding flashes of moonlight.
The blade flashed like shards of a shattered moon, each one finding its target among the pirates. Chest, throat, legs - no part of their bodies escaped the blow.
When the moonlight faded, Rogu stood behind the entire group.
"Shuh." He pretended to return the blade to its sheath, adding a clicking sound as if to give voice to the action. Only then did the terrible death screams begin.
Of the two hundred and thirty-five pirates who had come to the village, only about one hundred and sixty remained alive after the battle with the villagers. Now they were all lying on the ground, bleeding like wounded dolls. And all this because of one attack.
Rogu frowned as he looked at the picture in front of him.
"Too many hits," he muttered. "Can't control them well on each enemy. Still not enough. Need to keep training. Hmm… maybe I should get back to training in the water. But first…" His gaze fell on the flickering notification that had been hanging in his field of vision the entire time.
[Special reward received!]
This message appeared immediately after he killed Marcello, and it has not disappeared since. Although it did not obstruct the view, it still aroused great curiosity.
"What is this?" Rogu said thoughtfully, looking at the blinking text.