Relax
Seeing Shalria, a Celestial Dragon, reduced to a snarling mess at her feet was pure, unadulterated bliss.
This was the kind of dominance she craved, the kind that made her feel truly alive!
"Oh, the things I could do to you," she purred, her voice dripping with excitement.
Shalria, her face contorted with a fury that transcended all boundaries, couldn't take it anymore.
She had been suppressing her rage, but this humiliation, this public display of weakness, was the final straw.
"You will pay for this, whore!" she shrieked, her voice laced with venom.
Sadi's smile widened, stretching from ear to ear like a maniac's.
"Hehe, it's going to be fun taming you, little bitch!" she cooed, cracking her whip once more.
The sting, sharp and sudden, tore through Shalria's fury, replacing it with a primal urge to scream. Bile rose in her throat, but all that came out was a choked gurgle of rage.
Moments later, Magnus, followed by a smug Sadi, ushered the three Celestial Dragons – or rather, dragged them – into the opulent living quarters.
They were a sorry sight, their once pristine clothing ripped and bloodied. Sadi, with a sadistic glee that would make even the most hardened pirate shudder, used her whip to prod them forward whenever they stumbled or dared to whimper.
Inside the luxurious hall, a cage held a group of slaves, their faces pale with shock. They rubbed their eyes, slapping themselves in disbelief.
Their masters, the gods, reduced to whimpering dogs on leashes?!
"A-are we seeing what I am seeing?!" gasped a young male slave, his voice barely a whisper.
"N-no way!" stammered a woman beside him, her eyes glued to the scene. "This has to be a dream!"
For years, she had dreamt of the unforgivable: slapping the gods!
But even the wildest fantasy couldn't have conjured this.
"Maybe I am turning mad," she whispered, a strange mix of terror and morbid excitement coursing through her veins.
The slaves, despite the chaos unfurling before them, knew better than to make a sound.
Meanwhile, Sadi scurried towards a grand, plush chair.
"Master, please have a seat!"
With a flourish, she dusted it off, her eyes gleaming with an unsettling devotion.
"Thanks."
Magnus nodded in acknowledgment and settled into the seat, the plushness a stark contrast to the cold, hard floor the Celestial Dragons were forced to kneel on.
His gaze drifted to a visual transponder snail stationed in the corner, its screen displaying the chaos unfolding in Marineford.
His eyes narrowed as he witnessed Blackbeard clash with Sengoku and Garp, the ground shattering with each blow of his quaking fist.
"The Quake-Quake Fruit!? Wasn't that Whitebeard's power!?" Magnus exclaimed, his face filled with disbelief.
He has sensed Blackbeard's strength, hence his decision to avoid conflict after their encounter in Level 6.
But for him to wield Whitebeard's fruit...
"How did he manage that!?" Magnus wondered, his mind racing.
But then he pushed the thought aside. Blackbeard's machinations weren't his concern.
"He'll surely make the Celestial Dragons remember the horrors of the Will of D!"
Magnus smirked, relishing the thought.
He refocused his attention on the kneeling figures before him.
Despite their pitiful state, the flicker of arrogance still burned in their eyes.
"Hahaha!"
He leaned back in the chair, a hearty, booming laugh echoing in the hall.
"Whether Blackbeard does the job or not, I most certainly will!"
He declared, his voice radiating a power that sent shivers down everyone's spine – Celestial Dragons, slaves, and even Sadi.
Outside the opulent residence, the nervous Marine captain and his meager force had arrived. A sound microphone crackled in his hand.
He took a deep breath, his voice wavering as he spoke.
"Criminals, you are surrounded! Drop your weapons and surrender! Your crimes might be considered for leniency!"
It was a lie, of course, but the captain was clutching at straws. He knew his force wouldn't stand a chance against whoever dared to invade the Celestial Dragons.
Inwardly, he prayed for a miracle – for reinforcements to arrive before things escalated further.
Inside the hall, Sadi scoffed at the announcement, the sound barely registering in her mind. With a swift kick, she sent Charlos sprawling, followed by his father.
"Scums!" she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "Don't you dare pollute Master's sight with your pathetic figures!"
She knew her master's preferences, and these quivering piles of flesh – these self-proclaimed gods – weren't it.
Her gaze flickered to Shalria, who sat rigidly on the floor, her face a mask of suppressed rage.
Sadi licked her lips, a predatory glint in her eyes.
"You, on the other hand," Sadi's voice trembled from excitement as she continued, "are a different story altogether!"
Shalria froze.
What did this lowly whore mean!?
***
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