Naval Battle Open Sea (West Blue)

[Ziosa]

The open waters of the West Blue, nowhere near any islands. Players can use this thread for Naval Battles, story missions/progression and various other things.

 

[Emperor Cross]

#

Shaarib was in deep trouble, his « vacations » were over and now problems were coming from everywhere. He spent two weeks helping with the reconstruction of Karate Island and still was perceived as the bad guy. One of the trainees was able to take some pictures and send them to the World Economy News. The Skypiean knew his fight with Akainu caused backlashes. He leaped over Sengoku’s authority to organize a fight and it was now biting him in his ass. It didn’t take long to receive a call from the Higher Ups. The Vice-Admiral was ordered to wait for a retrieval ship.

So Shaarib followed the instructions and decided to use his time to train with Hayato. It took another week for a warship to accost. Knowing Sengoku, Shaarib thought the one leading his welcoming party would be one of the friendly Admirals. The one like Tsuru or Strawberry. The bird was deeply mistaken. As he began to walk on the main bridge, a voice made him stop. A gravelly voice that never left his ears. Sengoku, that old goat, decided that Hajib Hassan, the man that raised him was the best solution.

- "Vice-Admiral Hassan, I heard that you have been rather frivolous. " said the voice

Shaarib back straightened immediately and he took a position of attention. Even though they both had the same ranks, habits were hard to lose. The younger decided to wait until the older showed his face. A tanned man of the same height appeared. He had long and curly hair, a thick beard and a mustache. The marking trait was probably the scar he had over his left eye. Hajib wore under his coat a red kurta with some sandals #

- "Ma ma, It has been a long time Vice-Admiral Hassan. " said Shaarib cheekily, trying to hide the fact that he was frightened

 

[Dream]

OPEN SEA (WEST BLUE)
This will go into my first post in [Valkyrie Island] @Infinity ​

Lucifer Morningstar stood at the prow of his shadowed ship, eyes fixed on the Marine base nestled against the shoreline. A sliver of a smirk played on his lips as he took in the sight before him—an unsuspecting stronghold, basking in the false sense of security that being in the West Blue provided. Dressed in a robe over his suit with the hood casting shadows over his face, he looked every bit the devil the rumors claimed him to be with his flicking red.

As his boots touched the land, he paused, savoring the calm before the storm. To him, this was a symbol—the beginning of something long overdue. His smirk widened as he felt the weight of his saber at his side, the scent of the ocean mixing with the anticipation that hung in the air.

Behind him, his crew—men and women who had once sworn allegiance to the Marines, now disillusioned and loyal to Lucifer’s cause—waited in silence, knowing what was to come. Without a word, he led them forward, stepping with a quiet confidence that spoke of the carnage yet to be unleashed. As they approached the base, his eyes held a dark gleam, a controlled fury igniting like embers within.

And then, with a nod from him, it began.

The night erupted in chaos. Flames licked the walls as his followers moved with ruthless precision, cutting down the Marines who stumbled in shock, unprepared for an attack of this magnitude. Lucifer strode through the inferno, his movements as smooth as they were deadly. Any Marine foolish enough to cross his path met a swift end, their shouts drowned by the roar of the flames.

Among the smoke and fire, one Marine managed to catch a glimpse of him—a lone, terrified ensign who had fallen to his knees, eyes wide with horror. Through the haze, the ensign saw Lucifer's silhouette, cloaked in flames, his face obscured except for a devilish smirk that seemed to mock the chaos around him. In that fleeting moment, Lucifer's eyes met the ensign’s, cold and piercing, filled with a fury that was all-consuming.

To the young Marine, Lucifer was no longer human—he was a demon, a harbinger of death. His smirk burned into the ensign’s memory as he fled, the image seared in his mind like a curse.

By dawn, the Marine base was little more than charred rubble, smoldering in the morning light. Lucifer’s smirk lingered as he surveyed the destruction from the distance, his message clear: the Marines and the World Government would know the price of betrayal. The Reptilia had been left to burn without justice, and now, he would return that fire to those who allowed it to happen.

And with that, he vanished into the shadows, a ghostly figure whose name would soon spread throughout the seas—a pirate who bore the wrath of a fallen Marine, and the smirk of a devil.