"What good news. Then we can start rebuilding. I'm just glad Dressrosa didn't sink."
Doffy's words made Werther suddenly feel awkward.
"Ahem. Dressrosa didn't sink, but it took some serious damage."
Doffy's face stiffened. Ignoring the sharp pain in his arm, he sat straight up.
"What happened? Did part of it sink? That's fine. We can pay to repair it—"
Werther waved him off and took a drink.
"When I fought Red-Haired, I accidentally cut through Dressrosa. Somewhere near the center of the island. I think I saw seawater spilling in."
"What?"
Doffy could no longer stay calm. A cut through the island's center was nothing like damage to its edge. Dressrosa could sink within a few years.
"It's fine. When we were expanding the island, I asked those Meteorologists whether damage to an island's center could be repaired.
"They said it could, though it would be difficult. It'll just cost more Beli. It should be fine. Probably."
Both fell silent. Werther's wounds gradually stopped bleeding. With treatment from Tuski, he would recover quickly.
Doffy struggled to his feet and began treating his severed arm with his threads. Then he summoned the Donquixote Family officers to clear the battlefield.
The battlefield soon bustled with activity. The soldiers of the Kings' Allied Forces all had Black Cloth tied over their eyes, but their sight would return within two days at most.
The Revolutionary Army soldiers were shackled. There were so many of them, though, that handling them proved difficult.
They were prisoners of war, and after the battle, they would make ideal laborers for rebuilding Dressrosa.
Werther watched the people working around him and suddenly felt weak.
His fight with Red-Haired had drained all his lightning and Armament Haki, along with much of his stamina. All he wanted now was sleep.