NOVEL NEXT Chapter 49: He's Here.
"He's here…? There's no way he'd-" Kále said in confusion.
But in fact. There was something approaching.
Someone. Approaching the Rose Arbor was a Small Canoe. It looked similar to the hunting boats used by people long ago in the real world. It only had room for one individual. Behind what seemed like a throne was a singular mast that was slowly causing the vessel to approach the floating restaurant. It hadn't been there a second ago!? Or had they missed it?!
Upon said throne was a tall man standing at 6'7, dressed in what looked to be a leather trench coat that came down to his knees.
It was buttoned tightly around his waist, exposing a Vest with a small frilly neck accessory popping from the top of the collar where the jacket folded outwards.
A high collar went around the man's neck. The lower half of the man was complimentary to the rest, what looked to be loose slacks were bucked around the waist, and tucked into his high calf boots. The leather excess was folded outwards to give the boots flaps.
The man had barely any Skin Exposed whatsoever. His hands gloved. This left the most intriguing part about the man, He wore a piece of fabric that wrapped around his neck and the lower half of their mouth. Pale skin left exposed, as their tricorn hat was lowered partially to hide their golden red double-layered eyes.
Those eyes. Where there'd be only one Iris, it seemed to be ringed, giving the eyes an inner and outer layer.
Finally. In front of their crossed legs was a large blade that looked to be almost as tall as the man sitting down. It was not unlike a zweihander. It was a supreme grade, black blade known as 'Orion'.
An inscription across its blackened blade read as such
'Do not unsheathe me without reason, Do not wield me without ferocity and valor for when this blade is raised, So do I wish that the poor fool who challenged me may receive grace. For I will not be the one to bestow it.'
That blade could only mean one thing. Its wielder was none other than
Royal Marshal Privateer
The Worlds Strongest Swordsman
The Apex; Hannibal Wolfheart
The Foot steps of the Other two pirates made their way out onto the deck, the other Chefs and Noir following along.
Noir just straightened himself up a bit at the sight of the man in the little canoe, finding it almost peculiar and funny. He wasn't totally sure who this was, having been at Rose Arbor most of his life, but there must've been a reason why everyone looked so terrified.
The cook just pulled a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket, slipping one out, before putting it to his lips. 'Sorry, Ducasse,' he thought as he pulled out a lighter, and flicked it a few times while covering his hand over the flame, before bringing it up to the end of the cigarette. 'I know there is a no smoking rule but... I am gonna have to focus on this'
Leroy on the other hand just stood back to watch what was going to happen. Having complete faith in the Man he called Firstmate.
Jeanne just shrunk back behind Leroy. Her hand on his shoulder, peaking out around him as another voice pushed its way to the front.
"By god...That's Hannibal Wolfheart. One of the Eight Royal Marshal Privateers..." Ducasse said, utter shock in his voice as he watched the man finally stand from the ship, huge sword in hand. He took slow, methodical steps. Each one seemed to shake the world, and didn't make more than a slight clack as the sole hit the wood.
Leroy looked over his shoulder to see Ducasse speaking. "Royal Marshal Privateer?" He questioned the chef.
Noir looked to him as well "Yeah, what the hell is that pop?"
"They're Pirates that are employed by the world government to do their bidding and to curb piracy across the ocean. Particularly in the Grand Line." Ducasse spoke clearly. But with palpable fear in his voice.
"It's said that the Marshals Act as roadblocks where the Marines Can't reach. These Privateers being an Extension of The Marines and The Governments will..."
"They're all said to be extraordinarily powerful. Rather in influence or in sheer power. Often both. They have their bounties frozen in exchange that they are let loose...As long as they do what the Government tells them, and they get a cut..."
Only half of that statement was common knowledge. The Marshals were world famous for being pirates. Everyone had their rumors and stories as to why. Only thing that was known for a fact. Was they weren't to be messed with. And could do as they please.
Leroy looked confused as he asked Ducasse a pressing question. "How do you know all this?"
Ducasse let out a Slight Scoff "Most people only know that They are Government Sanctioned pirates. Since that's what they're told...But if my life as a pirate before all this taught me one thing...It's that there's always more going on in the world than we truly think."
He looked down at Leroy and swallowed a lump "Experience. That's how I know..."
"And I know that it's said that He's the Strongest of All the swordsmen in the world..." Not just said. It was a Fact.
A slight chill went down the spine of Leroy as he heard what Ducasse had to say. He remembered that Kale had said he wished to obtain that very title.
He had faith in the man as his First-mate. But was he ready? Was he at his fullest? He seemed to have healed from the ragged state he was in only a few days prior.
A slight grimace came across his face, sweat slightly beading down his brow.