Chapter 113

A sudden, deathly silence filled the chamber at the mention of the name Donquixote. The faces of the tribe leader and the elders froze in shock, and even the other dwarves inside the chamber stiffened at the name.

"You are a Donquixote? As in the Donquixote who ruled this very land centuries ago?" The tribe leader's amicable tone vanished, replaced by a defensive stance, as if a vile snake had entered their nest.

Even Leo, who had been playing around by my side, moved away, standing defensively in front of Princess Mansherry. The little princess, sensing the tension, clung to Issho's robes. The Tontatta tribe had always passed down the tales of the Donquixote family's cruelty through generations, and with each retelling, their hatred had only deepened.

"What do you know about the original Donquixotes who ruled this land?" I couldn't help but ask curiously. The elderly tribe leader's reaction suggested that he knew more about the family's history than I did. Perhaps some information had been shared by their ancestors.

"We know enough to know that you are from a vile bloodline, one that wouldn't blink at slaughtering a whole race if it was to your benefit. Maybe inviting you into our home was a mistake," the tribe leader commented. From the rest of the tribe, I could see genuine fear and hatred.

"I am not my ancestors, and neither are you the same as your ancestors who suffered," I remarked. Issho, standing beside me, shook his head slightly, signaling to me not to escalate the matter and allowing him to mediate on my behalf.

"Well, I may not have personally suffered, but I know all the atrocities your family committed against my kind," the tribe leader countered, his voice filled with bitterness.

Issho stepped forward, his presence calming the room slightly. "Chief, please. Ross is different. He seeks to make amends and build a future that does not repeat the mistakes of the past. Give him a chance to prove his intentions."

The chief's eyes narrowed as he studied me; his mistrust was evident. "You speak of amends, but how do we know your words are true? How do we know this isn't another deception by a Donquixote?"

"Centuries ago, before we left our homeland in search of resources to sustain our kind, we numbered in the millions," an elder from the tribe spoke, his voice heavy with emotion as he recalled details from their tribe records. "Many perished to the harsh seas, predators, and other factors, but even then, we had lost only about a quarter of the population."

He paused, wiping away tears as he continued, "But then we reached Dressrosa. Originally, the king of Dressrosa seemed benevolent. He promised us sanctuary and resources in exchange for honest work. We Tontatta are simple people, and we chose to trust your ancestors. We recalled all our brethren who had scattered around the world to find a new home for our tribe."

His voice cracked with sorrow as he recounted their suffering. "And then he started showing his true face. He began controlling, tormenting, and oppressing us little by little, eventually making us his slaves. He even threatened to kill the rest if anyone tried to flee. We did not even have a way out. That monster of a king could become the flame itself. We could not even fight against such a devil. We could not even harm a hair on his head. He became someone who made a deal with the devil himself."

The elder's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable weighted with the pain and anguish of generations past. The room was filled with a somber silence as the tribe members absorbed the gravity of their shared history.

"Wait! What do you mean by the Donquixote ancestor being made of flame? Was he a devil fruit user like Mansherry here?" I couldn't help but question curiously. I knew the twenty kings fought Joyboy, so it was possible that some of them were devil fruit users. The idea of the Donquixote ancestor being the original Mera Mera no Mi user was a possibility. According to the world's lore, the first instance of devil fruit appeared about nine centuries ago.

"Yes! Originally, not many people were aware of what these devil fruits meant. Even we, the Tontatta tribe, only learned about the so-called devil fruits in recent centuries. He used his powers to subject us to unspeakable horrors, and you expect us to believe one of his descendants?" The tribe leader spoke, his sadness evident in his voice. For someone to hold such hatred across centuries, it showed how much of a tyrant and a cruel man the original Donquixote ancestor must have been.

"Do you know about the D clan? The ancient kingdom that fought against the Donquixote king and the other kingdoms?" I disregarded the mistrust of the tribe elders because I needed information, and the more I gathered, the better prepared I would be for the future.

"Joyboy!" Many of the elders in the tribe whispered the name as if it were a beacon of hope. The hope and longing in their eyes were unmistakable. "Yes, we Tontatta tribe did take part in the battle, but we were forced to fight against the ancient kingdom. By the time the years of war were over, there were only a handful of the Tontatta tribe left. It took us centuries just to rebuild our modest numbers," an elder explained.

"Why did you not fight back? Why help your oppressor?" Lucci asked, his curiosity overriding the tension in the room. He seemed unfazed by the dwarves' desire to drive us away after learning I was a Donquixote.

The elder sighed deeply, the weight of history heavy on his shoulders. "We had no choice. Our people were being held hostage; anyone who defied him was slaughtered, and their families were burned. The Donquixote King's powers were unlike anything we had ever seen. He could incinerate entire villages with a flick of his wrist. The original Tontatta tribe were not warriors; we were craftsmen, builders, and healers. We had no means to fight back against such a force."

He paused, looking at the younger members of the tribe. "Our ancestors made a choice to survive, to protect what little was left of our kind. They believed that by cooperating, they could at least ensure the survival of the Tontatta tribe, even if it meant living under the yoke of a tyrant. It was a painful decision, one that has haunted us for generations."

I could feel the weight of their collective sorrow and anger. The story of their suffering was a stark reminder of the atrocities committed by my ancestors. It was up to me to break the cycle of hatred and mistrust.

"So what else can you tell me about the ancient kingdom? About Joyboy, about the great war? Can I see the records that have been left behind by your tribe?" I asked, noticing the tribe's incredulous stares.

However, none chose to answer. I understood I wasn't going to get any more answers unless I could either subdue them or ally with them. Subduing them was the easier way, but that would surely come back to haunt my family. The Tontatta tribe could be the best sentinels for Dressrosa, being tiny and fast, not easily detected. But I was not going to grovel for their help either.

"So why don't you tell us why exactly you are here and get lost from our home?" An elder shouted, questioning me.

I couldn't help but smile at the Tontatta elder's audacity. It seemed like he had forgotten that the Donquixote blood flowed through me too, but I reeled in my anger.

"I don't want to beat around the bush. I want Mansherry to be a part of the family, to be a part of the Donquixote family," I declared nonchalantly.

A deathly silence returned, with every dwarf looking at me as if I were a fool. Just moments ago, they had disclosed the oppression and tyranny of the Donquixote ancestor, and now I, a teen, wanted their cherished princess Mansherry to join my family. What madness was I spouting?

The tribe leader's face hardened. "You have some nerve, Donquixote Rosinante, to make such a request after all we've told you."

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I understand how it sounds, but I have already told you that I am not my ancestor. Mansherry's abilities are extraordinary. In the wrong hands, they could be exploited, but with us, she would be protected and cherished. I promise to treat her with the utmost respect and ensure her safety."

"You may not be like your ancestor, but what about the rest of your family? Can you guarantee that your brother won't become the same tyrant?" a voice echoed. An elder Tontatta tribe member, followed by a dozen others, entered the chamber and hurriedly whispered in the ears of the tribe leader. His face turned grim as he listened, the news clearly unsettling him.

My observation Haki was keen enough to pick up on their conversation. It seemed they had found out about my brother, and his being a Flame-Flame Fruit user was not working to our advantage.

The tribe leader's eyes bore into mine with renewed suspicion. "Your brother possesses the same power as your tyrannical ancestor. How can we trust that he won't use it against us as well?"

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. "I understand your concerns. My brother, Doffy, may possess the Flame-Flame Fruit, but he is not the same man as our ancestor. We are different people with different values. Our goal is not to dominate or oppress, but to protect and build a better future for all who live in Dressrosa."

"Stop your act! No one is going to fall for it. We were fooled once, but we are not ready to be fooled again. Get out of our land," the elder, who had been rude since learning I was a Donquixote, shouted, pushing my patience to its limits.

Issho sensed my demeanor shift and turned to me, concern etched on his face. "Ross-kun, they are speaking out of the grief and suffering their ancestors endured," Issho said, hoping to calm the situation. He knew that I was not the type to take false accusations lightly, even if I was willing to own up to my faults.

"Issho-san, please don't intervene. They have made their stance clear, and don't worry, I'm not going to go on a rampage just because I was denied something," I replied, turning my attention to Mansherry. Her opinion truly mattered to me; the rest of the tribe was of little consequence.

"Tell me, Mansherry, would you like to join the family, like Issho-san here? I promise you that no harm will ever befall you, and you will no longer have to live in hiding. You can live freely," I said, disregarding the others in the chamber. The tribe members were furious as I tried to poach their princess right in front of them.

"Donquixote brat, the only reason we are still entertaining you is out of respect for Issho-kun!" the angry elder roared. I had had enough of this little pipsqueak. With a snap of my fingers, I zapped him with a small bolt of lightning, careful not to kill him but enough to char him slightly.

"You..." The dwarves went on guard, many bravely stepping forward to shield their princess from any danger.

"Ross-kun..." Issho wanted to intervene, but I stopped him with a gesture.

"You, get out! Get out of our home! Princess Mansherry will never join you cruel tyrants. You can keep dreaming about it," the tribe leader, who had been patient until now, yelled, ready to personally throw me out if necessary.

"Is that so? In that case, your tribe has three days to vacate the island. This place belongs to the Donquixote family. As I said, I am not my ancestor, so I won't oppress you, but I can't have people who are not my allies within my territory. You have three days to vacate, and three days from now, if I find any Tontatta tribe members within Dressrosa, I will consider them hostile and hunt them down. Remember, you have three days.

I declared an ultimatum. If they did not want to align with me, they had no place here. Let them venture into the harsh seas, try to settle on a new island, and pray the Tontatta tribe stays hidden. If not, every slaver would come to capture one of these exotic species.

"You... What do you mean we have to leave? Dressrosa belongs to the Riku family. Only they get to decide whether we stay or not. Green Bit is something we built with all our efforts over the centuries. What gives you the right to ask us to leave our home?" An elder fumed at my words.

"Dressrosa belongs to the Riku family? Haha, that's a nice joke. What right do I have? I have all the rights because I am a Donquixote, and Dressrosa belongs to me. As for Green Bit being yours, didn't you tell me earlier that you ventured out to sea and settled down here?" I retorted, a smirk on my face.

Issho stepped forward, trying to mediate once more. "Ross-kun, perhaps there is a way to find common ground. We can work together to ensure both sides benefit from this arrangement."

The tribe leader's eyes flickered with anger and desperation. "We built this land with our blood, sweat, and tears. We will not be driven away by the likes of you."

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