Chapter 47

Beard surveyed the mine, a hint of satisfaction in his cold eyes. Breaking spirits was an art, and he'd mastered it.

Next to him stood a dark-skinned youth, trying to hide his unease behind sunglasses.

"Navy's getting close," Beard growled. "Where's that ship your boss promised? It should've been here by now."

The youth forced a smile. "Our base is on the Grand Line, Captain. Takes time to ready enough merchant ships for this haul. But don't worry, three days tops."

"It better be," Beard snarled, his hostility clear.

The youth shrugged, but his casual act was just that – an act. This whole operation had gone sideways from the start.

First, those cornered rats had torched their own ships and bombed the port. Then Beard's crew had rescued some escaping locals, blowing the youth's carefully laid plans wide open.

The youth had salvaged what he could, orchestrating the destruction of Heathville's entire fleet under the guise of a prisoner revolt. Now he was stuck playing nice with Beard, a man who could snap him like a twig if he learned the truth.

Beard, for his part, was no fool. He knew contacting his own fleet was suicide. Pirates lived and died by reputation, and word of his betrayal would mean a knife in his back before he could blink.

As the two men eyed each other warily, neither noticed the winged figure approaching from the coast. Their fragile alliance was about to be tested in ways they couldn't imagine.

The youth's Den Den Mushi suddenly rang, interrupting the tense silence.

"What?" he snapped, answering.

The coast patrol's panicked voice came through: "Sir! We're in deep shit! Intruders on the island!"

The youth's blood ran cold. "Intruders? Why didn't the sentries signal?"

"They might not have had the chance," the patrol replied, fear evident in his voice. "There's no ship, sir. Whatever it is, it can fly. It's headed for the snow mountains!"

"It can fly?!" The youth's eyes widened in disbelief. He shot a worried glance at Beard, wondering if his luck had finally run out.

Loya soared over Heathville, leaving a trail of ice in his wake. "Snow mountains, huh? Perfect for an ice dragon," he mused, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

Halfway to his target, a small city came into view. It might have once been called a town, about the size of the Marineford naval family quarters. But any resemblance to that peaceful place ended there.

What Loya saw now was a vision of hell on earth. Collapsed buildings, bloodstained streets, and bodies left to rot in the open. The stench of death and despair hung heavy in the air.

Loya's grin faded, replaced by a grim determination. "Beard, you bastard," he growled. "Time to pay for what you've done here."

He banked towards the center of the island, where intelligence said the gold mine – and Beard – would be found. As he flew, Loya's mind raced with possibilities. The element of surprise was on his side, but he knew better than to underestimate a New World pirate like Beard.

"Let's see how your high-frequency fruit handles a deep freeze," Loya muttered, ice crystals forming around his clenched fists as he prepared for the coming battle.

The stench of booze and sweat filled his nostrils as a pirate yanked him into the house. Moments later, the sickening crackle of flames pierced the air.

Outside, it was chaos. Kids huddled next to their lifeless parents, sobbing. The screams of the dying mingled with the drunken laughter of the pirates. All these sounds blended into a hellish cacophony that cut through the night.

Loya froze, his heart pounding. He expected to see the pirate's cocky grin twist into something far more sinister. The air around them seemed to plummet, turning so frigid that a normal person's lungs would freeze with each breath.

With shaking hands, he pulled out the hidden communicator. 'Mingde,' he whispered urgently, "forget the mission. We need to save these people. Now."

"Save someone?" Mingde's confused voice crackled through the communicator. The wave-breaking ship beneath him surged forward at full speed. "Who? Where? You want us to rescue those people? And why this sudden change of heart?"

Loya's patience was wearing thin. "Enough questions! Just do as I say. When you hit the shore, follow the ice path. Bring everyone."

"But..." Mingde hesitated, his voice tinged with worry. "Those guys are just supposed to guard the ship. If they join us, it'll tank our mission score!"

Loya knew what Mingde was getting at. For the elite squad, these missions weren't just about taking out targets. Their overall performance mattered too. Technically, they were still recruits in training – basically temp workers in the eyes of the Navy. Even if they pulled off impossible feats, they couldn't claim official military honors.

It's why Admiral Kuzan couldn't teach Loya the Six Powers when he was mentoring him. Sure, Luffy had managed to figure them out on his own in the original timeline, and they weren't exactly top-secret. But as a Navy man, Kuzan had to avoid any hint of impropriety.

Still, blood, sweat, and tears deserved recognition. That's why they had this whole evaluation system for field missions. Those scores could be cashed in for promotions after graduation. For most of the squad, it was their ticket up the ladder.

So yeah, Mingde's concern made sense. But it set Loya's blood boiling.

"To hell with the fucking scores!" he snarled, his voice dropping to a menacing growl. "Tell them this: anyone who doesn't show up, I'll kill them myself."

A beat of stunned silence. Then Mingde's shaky reply: "Y-yes sir. Understood."

Loya cut the connection and turned towards the ruins. This was once the crown jewel of Heathsville – Big Snail City. The name had been a source of both pride and mockery for generations. Outsiders laughed, calling them "snail-kids," but the people of Heathsville wore it as a badge of honor. Their national emblem was a snail, after all.

Legend said Heathsville rode on the back of a colossal sea snail, drifting across the oceans like Zou. Decades ago, that wild tale was proven true. A team of Fishman archaeologists, intrigued by the stories, spent months combing the seabed. What they found rocked the South Blue to its core.

Heathsville really did sit atop a gargantuan sea snail – or what was left of it. The creature had died ages ago, its body hollowed out, leaving only its massive shell. Over time, that shell fused with sand and sediment, becoming one with the island itself.

When word got out, it was like a bomb went off. People flocked from all corners of the sea to gawk at this natural wonder, marveling at the strange miracles the world could produce.

The once-thriving Big Snail City had become a nightmare. Where laughter and commerce once filled the streets, now only echoes of suffering remained.

Three brutish pirates dragged a young woman into the ruins. Her screams of terror and pain soon filled the air. As time passed, her cries grew weaker, her eyes vacant.

Suddenly, an icy chill swept through the room. In an instant, the pirates were frozen solid.

The cold shock snapped the girl back to awareness. She stared in disbelief at her motionless attackers, her emotions flickering rapidly across her face – from confusion to anger to a desperate, raw joy.

A voice startled her. "You're safe now. Head east. Someone will help you there."

She looked up, seeing a young man with a determined expression. Tears flooded her eyes as she lunged at him, biting his shoulder in a mix of relief and fury.

"Why?" she sobbed. "Why didn't you come sooner? Aren't you supposed to be Marines?"

Loya held her gently. "I'm sorry. We were too late."

Her anger crumbled, replaced by heart-wrenching sobs. Though he wanted to comfort her longer, Loya knew others needed help. He carefully disentangled himself, offering her his shirt.

"Go east," he repeated. "Don't look back."

The girl's smile was tinged with a deep sadness as she memorized his face. "Thank you," she whispered. "But... please... end this for me."

Loya stared at the girl, stunned by her request. An ice blade materialized and clattered to the ground.

Meeting her gaze, he spoke softly but firmly. "Your life is your own. No one else can decide for you. Whether you live or die – that's your choice alone."

With that, he turned and left. As he walked away, he heard movement behind him, followed by sounds of rage and vengeance. The air grew thick with the scent of blood.

Loya took a deep breath, brushing away the ice crystals that had formed at the corners of his eyes. Looking towards the snow-capped mountains, he called out, "Bird!"

Meanwhile, the Wavebreaker reached the shore. A group moved swiftly along the ice path Loya had created. Loya's threat hung over them – disobedience meant severe consequences, even if he wouldn't actually kill them.

As they advanced, the lifelike ice sculptures lining the path sent chills down their spines. These weren't just sculptures, but living creatures frozen in time.

Their fear turned to anger and shame when they encountered the first refugee. They were Navy! How could they have let pirates run wild like this?

A sense of duty surged through Mingde. He snapped into action, barking orders:

"Tok! Take some men and help the refugees. Food, medicine, clothes – get it all out there!"

"Yake! Contact the ships behind us. Tell them to come at full speed!"

"Tony! ... Tony, where are you going?"

Tony turned, his eyes blazing with fury. His face was a mask of barely contained rage. "Me?" he growled. "I'm going to kill someone."