MARINES - A ONE PIECE story (ENGLISH) - Part I

CHAPTER LXXXV - Beyond the dome

As Jorge made his way up the underground tunnels, sniffing the atmosphere for the woody smell of the outside, he could feel Jun's faint breath against his skin. Lola had done an incredible job of healing her wound, but she had also cleaned his bloody skin to restore his natural pallor. This pallor that Jorge found so pretty, so delicate, as if the young woman had been made of porcelain. All he could think about was preserving her, bringing her back to the ship as quickly as possible. There she would be safe. There he would watch over her.

Absorbed by his ascent and the will to save his friend, Jorge remained deaf to the noise that was propagating in the underground gallery, a growing and threatening noise that he could not ignore any more : a thousand feet were pounding the stone floor, announcing the arrival of a furious army. As soon as the sound reached the soldier's ears, he stood still in a cold sweat. The noise was coming from the galleries, and those things that were running madly would soon be coming at him. However, he had no choice but to keep moving forward to get outside : there was no way he was going back to those catacombs where his friend might die, devoured by an infection or by the horde of insect-women. He would not go back. His massive jaws and paws clenched, he rushed forward, continuing his relentless ascent at the risk of getting in the way of new enemies. The noise became more and more intense, more and more threatening, so much that he preferred to close his eyes to avoid seeing the enemy.

- My God ! cried a raspy voice. A bear ! It kidnapped this poor girl !

- A bear ?! You think it is with the pirates ?

Being with the pirates ? Unable to bear the pressure of the situation, Jorge stopped and opened his eyes. When he saw that an army of animated trees was facing him, he jumped back and stumbled.

- What the hell are you ?!

One of the trees pointed to his blood and dust-stained shirt, whose pale blue hue could still be seen.

- Look at that uniform, and that Marine blue scarf ! They are the same as the shipwright's ! Wouldn't he be in their camp?

- The shipwright ? exclaimed Jorge. You mean Zell ?

Immediately, the big trees sighed with relief, raising their arms to the sky. One of them, whom Jorge guessed to be the chief, stepped forward and spoke in a calm, serene voice :

- My dear child, do not be afraid. Your dear friend Madeira Zell has rallied us to your cause.

Jorge's swollen face broke into a happy and reassured smile. He had lost his friend several hours earlier, when the officers of the Blue Unit had ambushed them in the dark woods.

- Zell ? Where is he ? Is he alright ?!

- He's currently confronting the Blue Unit executive in the chapel just above. Go up this underground and always choose the first passage on the left : you will eventually reach the palace. I think he will need your help.

- Thank you ! cried Jorge, resuming his run as the Moringens stepped aside to let him pass.

- One more thing, young bear ! the old Irminsoul hailed him. Our common friend has asked us to go to the rescue of his comrades. Is this the way to the catacombs ?

- Keep going straight ! Jorge shouted at them without turning around. You should find Arthur, Haru and Lola !

Then, redoubling his efforts to continue his race in spite of the pain, Jorge took the first on the left. It was only a matter of time before he'd manage to leave those horrible underground tunnels. Jun's survival depended on him.

...

Zell loved to fight. While for some soldiers, direct confrontation was undesirable, the young shipwright had no problem throwing himself into battle, using his chisels and fists to defeat any opponent. The more powerful the enemy, the greater the danger he posed, the more fun Zell had. He had defeated the terrible Francis Fog, crossed swords with several officers of the Zodiac, confronted a cyclop general, an indestructible paper woman... He had always grown from his confrontations. And above all, he had taken pleasure in them, in one way or another. But for the first time, when he was facing Mothra, Zell did not feel any pleasure in fighting. His opponent was cowardly avoiding close combat and preferred to resort to more devious attacks, but most of all, he had hurt Haru. This Zell could not forgive. His usual good-naturedness and appreciation of fighting had given way to a seething anger that his insides seemed to be overflowing with.