A surname, one almost forgotten, crashed into his muddled mind along with certain old rumors.
His lips trembled as he uttered a few syllables. "Donquixote...?"
"Correct."
The man in pink curled his lips into a delighted smile.
An existence once beyond his reach, someone he could only look up to, now grovelled at his feet, nothing more than a trembling wretch.
He knew the scent of the weak all too well.
"Doffy."
Another voice cut in.
Having finished the miscellaneous tasks, Rossi walked over. His gaze swept past the Celestial Dragon on the ground without lingering. "Don't waste time on him.
"Those who are coming will be here soon."
He looked toward the far horizon, his gaze sharp. "Cipher Pol Aigis Zero, and possibly the Holy Knights... the main event is still ahead.
"If we win, the world will be wide open to us."
If they lost, everything would naturally be over.
The big names in the Navy probably wouldn't interfere. That was the only good news.
As for how powerful their opponents were, Rossi wasn't entirely certain, but there had to be a limit-those fellows who willingly put on shackles and served gods had long since fenced in their own hearts.
The path of the truly strong required an obsession that burned the soul, not loyalty on bended knee.
"Doffy, Rossi."
Pica's voice came from the masthead, where he was keeping watch, breaking the silence on deck.
Several sails appeared on the distant horizon.
"Fleet spotted to port."
A terse report came from the lookout.
Two flags unfurled in the wind at the masthead-one bore a white bird carrying an olive branch, the other four pale stripes crossing against a black background.
The latter represented an authority that spanned the seas.
The man standing on the figurehead raised his