Chapter 150

[ Sea Calendar Year 1502 ]

In the heart of the Calm Belt, amidst the serene waters and monstrous Sea Kings, Silvers Rayleigh moved with an unparalleled grace, despite the relentless attacks. He swam with a sword clutched tightly in one hand and a worn satchel slung over his shoulder.

Despite being in his prime, the relentless assaults had taken their toll, and his small boat had been destroyed. The permanent markers he carried, essential for navigation in these treacherous waters, were shattered during the Sea Kings' relentless onslaught. Rayleigh had been adrift for close to two weeks, futilely attempting to navigate his way out of this labyrinthine sea.

His clothes torn and bloodied, Rayleigh's resolve remained unbroken even as a persistent wound on his back oozed a poisonous venom, a reminder of his recent battles with the Sea Kings. These gargantuan creatures circled him menacingly, their predatory instincts on full display.

Just as one of the Sea Kings lunged to engulf him, Rayleigh's sword flashed with blinding speed. With a single stroke, he cleaved through the colossal beast as if it were paper, its thousand-meter body falling lifeless into the dark waters. The other Sea Kings wasted no time in devouring their fallen comrade, a gruesome reminder of the perpetual danger surrounding him.

Since the disbandment of Roger's crew, Rayleigh had dedicated himself to a desperate quest: finding a cure for his ailing friend, Gol D. Roger. He had bid farewell to Shakky and embarked on this perilous journey through the Calm Belt, driven by a flicker of hope to discover a remedy, whether a Devil Fruit or some other arcane solution. Unbeknownst to him, the world had changed in profound ways during his self-imposed isolation, and he remained oblivious to the tragic fate that had befallen Roger.

Frustration simmered beneath Rayleigh's composed exterior as the Sea Kings continued their relentless harassment. In a surge of indomitable will, a burst of Conqueror's Haki erupted from him, spreading like a shockwave through the water.

The pressure Rayleigh emitted was like that of a primordial beast. Beholding a power that transcended their own, the surrounding sea kings recoiled in terror. Rayleigh's gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced through their monstrous forms, commanding obedience with a mere whisper.

"I am only going to say this once, Begone!" His voice, infused with authority and ancient power, resonated through the water. For the Sea Kings encircling him, it was not a suggestion but an imperative from a higher authority. He watched as they scattered, retreating into the depths, cowed by the presence of a true master of the sea.

Alone once more in the eerie silence of the Calm Belt, Rayleigh exhaled a weary sigh. The relentless pursuit of a cure for Roger had brought him to the brink of exhaustion and despair. Yet, a glimmer of determination flickered in his eyes as he recalibrated his course, resolute in his quest despite the insurmountable odds. As he vanished beneath the surface, the waters stirred with a whispered promise of his unwavering resolve, echoing through the silent expanse of the Calm Belt.

Swimming swiftly through the calm waters, Silvers Rayleigh's keen Observation Haki picked up on the presence of a life form on a small island ahead. Despite his exhaustion, renewed vigor surged through him, propelling his powerful strokes toward the distant shore.

As Rayleigh drew closer, his eyes fell upon a young octopus Fishman teenager named Hatchan. With dexterity and skill, Hatchan deftly caught one octopus after another along the rocky shore of his secret paradise island.

Today, he had set out with a singular purpose: to capture the finest octopuses for his beloved Takoyaki dish. This routine had become a monthly ritual ever since he discovered this remote haven in the Calm Belt three years ago.

"Ah... that's thirteen," Hatchan muttered to himself, his satisfaction evident as he added yet another catch to his basket. He moved with practiced ease, his movements fluid and precise, a testament to years spent perfecting his craft.

Suddenly, Hatchan's attention shifted toward the horizon, where a small piece of floating wood caught his eye. Clinging to it was a man, clearly shipwrecked and at the mercy of the ocean's currents. Hatchan hesitated momentarily, torn between the instincts of compassion and the age-old animosity between Fishmen and humans.

Alone on his secluded island, he knew the consequences of aiding a human could be severe. His fellow Fishmen, especially his friend, who occasionally visited the island, would not look kindly upon such an act.

Yet, as he watched the helpless figure drift closer to the treacherous rocks, Hatchan's heart stirred with empathy. He remembered his own struggles, his dreams of opening a takoyaki stand where humans and Fishmen could share his culinary creations. With a decisive nod to himself, Hatchan dove into the water, his powerful limbs propelling him toward the drifting survivor.

In moments, Hatchan reached the man, pulling him from the brink of certain peril. As they reached the safety of the shore, Hatchan regarded the unconscious stranger with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He laid the man gently on the sand, assessing his condition and wondering about the circumstances that led to his predicament.

Rayleigh slowly regained consciousness, feeling groggy as he sat up within the makeshift shelter of palm leaves. The sun was descending on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the tranquil island. Outside, the faint whistle of someone merrily enjoying the sea breeze reached his ears. With cautious steps, he emerged from the shelter to find a Fishman teenager cooking what appeared to be takoyaki over a crackling fire.

The tantalizing aroma of the food wafted through the air, instantly catching Rayleigh's attention. It had been over two weeks since he had last eaten, surviving on merely his energy. All that was left on his person was his sword and a satchel, which included the now broken eternal log pose and two devil fruits acquired during his relentless search in the past two years.

Though they were not the fruits he sought, he knew their value for future exchanges. With the resolve to return to civilization, meet with Roger and Shakky, and embark again on his quest to save Roger, Rayleigh's stomach growled loudly like a beast.

Hatchan, alerted by the sound, turned swiftly and picked up a half-burnt timber defensively. He had rescued the man out of compassion but remained wary of how a stranger might react to a Fishman's presence. Rayleigh's unexpected gesture left Hatchan dumbfounded.

Rayleigh bowed deeply, expressing heartfelt gratitude, "Thank you... Thank you for saving my life."

The tension dissipated as Rayleigh's stomach grumbled again, prompting an awkward laugh from him. Hatchan cautiously set aside the timber, extending an invitation for Rayleigh to join him by the fire, where the takoyaki was nearly ready. Rayleigh gratefully accepted, settling onto a stone seat beside the crackling flames.

Soon, both sat opposite each other with palm leaves brimming with takoyaki. Rayleigh, despite the food being piping hot, eagerly began devouring it. The savory flavors burst in his mouth, filling him with a sense of nourishment and warmth after days of hardship in the Calm Belt.

"I am Hatchan, but you can call me Hachi. Do you like the takoyaki?" Hachi broke the silence as Rayleigh devoured the food he had been offered. Rayleigh almost choked on the takoyaki, realizing he had forgotten to introduce himself to the teen who had saved him.

"Ahem... Ahem... Well, my name is Rayleigh. Silvers Rayleigh. And yes, the takoyaki is simply great. It's the best takoyaki I've ever had," Rayleigh praised, returning to his meal with renewed vigor.

Hachi froze in shock, his hands suspended in midair with a piping hot takoyaki hovering near his open mouth. "Silvers... Silvers Rayleigh? As in 'Dark King' Silvers Rayleigh? The right-hand man of the late Pirate King, Gol D. Roger?" Hachi questioned. The Roger Pirates were legendary, their fame reaching even Fishman Island.

Rayleigh's heart sank at a single word: "late." It meant his friend, Roger, was dead. He set aside his food, turning his full attention to the Fishman teen. "Hachi, right? Can you please tell me what has happened in the world since the Roger Pirates conquered the Grand Line?" Rayleigh's voice was steady, but the gravity of his request was clear.

Hachi, still grappling with the reality of sitting next to a living legend, quickly nodded. "Sure, Mr. Rayleigh," he began, his voice respectful and slightly awed. "Well, after the Roger Pirates disbanded, the world changed a lot. Roger turned himself in and was executed in Loguetown. His last words ignited the Great Pirate Era. Pirates from all over the world set sail in search of the One Piece, the legendary treasure Roger spoke of."

Rayleigh's eyes narrowed, absorbing the information. "So, it's true. Roger did say something that stirred the world into chaos," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Hachi continued to recount everything he knew about the world since the Roger Pirates had disbanded. His voice carried a mix of awe and reverence, painting vivid pictures of the events that had reshaped the seas.

Soon, Hachi recounted everything he knew about the events that had transpired since Rayleigh's departure. He spoke of the turmoil in Wano, the fall of Impel Down, Big Mom becoming the new Emperor, the Marines' loss in Dressrosa, the celebrations in Fishman Island, the rise of the Shichibukai, and the increased pirate activity around Fishman Island.

"Hachi! I would like to ask you for a favor. Would you be able to point me in the direction of the nearest human-inhabited island?" Rayleigh asked as he stood up. He noticed that Hachi had helped dress his wounds and even tended to the sea king venom that had caused him to bleed relentlessly.

He felt a deep sense of gratitude towards Hachi, but he had pressing matters to attend to. He needed to find Shakky, who had become a Warlord. He was certain she had been forced into the position. Another crucial task was to locate Roger's resting place. If the Marines and the World Government had handled Roger's body, they would have likely burned it to ensure nothing remained. However, Rayleigh hoped against hope that someone had been able to salvage Roger's corpse and perform the final rites that the man deserved.

Hachi looked up from the fire, surprise and concern evident in his eyes. "Silvers Rayleigh, it's an honor to help you in any way I can. The nearest human-inhabited island is about two days' swim north of here. It's called Baterilla. But you should rest more before you go. You've been through a lot."

Rayleigh smiled, touched by the young fishman's concern. "Thank you, Hachi. But I can't afford to wait. There's too much at stake."

Hachi nodded, understanding the urgency. He stood up and pointed towards the horizon. "If you follow the stars tonight, head towards the North Star, and keep the rising sun on your right in the morning, you should reach Baterilla in two days."

Rayleigh bowed deeply. "Thank you, Hachi. You've saved my life and given me the direction I need. I won't forget this. If you ever need my help in the future, use this to find me." He passed a small piece of his Vivre card over to Hachi.

As he prepared to leave, Hachi handed him a small bag of takoyaki. "Take these for the journey. They might not last long, but they'll give you some strength."

Rayleigh accepted the bag with a grateful smile. "I appreciate it, Hachi. Take care of yourself."

With that, Rayleigh dived into the sea, swimming with powerful, determined strokes towards his destination. His mind raced with thoughts of Shakky, Roger, and the world that had changed so much in his absence.

****************

In Dressrosa, within Green Bit, lay a serene and beautiful place—a final resting ground that had been lovingly reshaped since the Donquixote brothers took over. Lush cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, their delicate pink petals fluttering down like gentle rain, creating a peaceful and ethereal atmosphere. This sanctuary, meticulously cared for by the Tontatta tribe at Ross's request, radiated tranquility and reverence.

Doflamingo, in a rare display of his human side, knelt before a stunning grave fashioned from pink marble, a stone renowned for its durability and timeless beauty. He was deep in prayer, his usually formidable demeanor softened as he paid his respects. Standing a respectful distance away were Gladius and Smoker, followed by Giolla, Senor, and Diamante, who had almost fully recovered except for his voice.

Smoker, unable to contain his curiosity, whispered to Giolla, "Whose grave is that?"

Giolla's expression softened as she explained, "That is the grave of Master's mother. They had it rebuilt here as the final resting place of the Donquixote Matriarch." She pointed to an obelisk a bit further away. "See that obelisk? Young Master Ross had it built in remembrance of all those who had fallen while serving the Donquixote family." She paused, memories flooding her mind. "The gesture touched everyone who was originally part of the family. Even Trebol has a place of his own here."

At his mother's grave, Doflamingo gently wiped the marble clean, though it bore no blemish. The name 'Nerona Grace' was etched into the stone, and below, in beautiful calligraphy, were the words, 'In loving memory of a mother.' As he caressed the cold stone, a tear escaped his eye. Despite his hatred for the world, there were two people he loved with all his heart: his brother and his mother.

Smoker couldn't help but admire the beauty of the place. The Tontatta truly knew how to blend nature and artistry. As he looked around, his gaze fell on a lone grave at the far end, away from the rest. It was grand, second only to the grave of Doflamingo's mother, and stood like a solitary king among the towering trees.

"So whose grave is that?" he asked, pointing towards the solitary grave.

Just then, Doflamingo approached the group, his steady steps marking the end of his moment of solitude. His usual demeanor had returned, but there was a lingering softness in his eyes.

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," he chuckled, the edges of his mouth curling into a familiar smirk.

"Try me! It's not like you have the Pirate King himself buried there," Smoker challenged, eager to know the secret behind the grand yet nameless grave. Even the others were mildly curious, for the grave bore no inscription, as if waiting for the right time to reveal its identity.

Doflamingo simply laughed and walked past them, evading the question. Smoker grabbed his sleeve, desperate for an answer, but all he received was more of Doflamingo's laughter. Only Doflamingo and Ross knew the true identity of the grave's occupant, a secret they kept close to their hearts.

The scene was a poignant reminder of the human side of Doflamingo—a man capable of deep love and profound sorrow, hidden beneath layers of ambition and cruelty. As the cherry blossoms continued to fall, the beauty and tranquility of the resting place stood in stark contrast to the turbulent lives of those who paid their respects there.

*********

Dear readers,

Thank you for your continuous support. In the meantime, I request that my readers please spare a few minutes of their precious time if possible and leave their reviews and thoughts about the story so that I can improve upon the story and help it reach more One Piece fans.

For those eager to dive into the next chapters of our One Piece saga before anyone else, I invite you to join me on Patreon. By becoming a patron, you'll not only gain access to exclusive advanced chapters but also play a pivotal role in shaping the future of our narratives and much more.

Currently updated until Chapter 200.

Patreon : www.patreon.com/Silent_stiele