𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑 // 𝐓.𝐋𝐀𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂

Chapter 2

The wind on the deck was as sharp as knives, cutting through the stiff uniforms of the Marines stationed on the lookout.

Above the clouds, the sun was setting into a blood-red horizon, casting long shadows across the sea.

The silence of dusk was usually a time for calm reflection—but not today.

Valeria Nocturne stood at the bow of the ship, her skeletal mask catching the last fading rays of sunlight, casting a haunting glow around her face.

The golden spikes of her mask seemed to absorb the light, reflecting it off in strange, jagged beams, as if the mask were somehow alive, breathing with the last vestiges of the day.

Behind her, the crew moved about their duties with a noticeable unease. Even after serving with her for years, there was something about her stillness, her silence, that unnerved them.

They would never dare say it aloud—none of them would—but Valeria's presence was always felt, like a shadow that loomed over them, unseen but ever-watchful.

From behind, the sound of footsteps broke the stillness. Valeria didn't turn. She didn't need to.

"Darwish, if you're here to tell me another joke, I suggest you save it," she said, her voice as calm and cold as the breeze.

"Come on, Val! You make it sound like my jokes aren't top-tier entertainment,"

Darwish replied with a grin as he came to stand beside her, his red hair whipping wildly in the wind. His heavy boots clunked against the wooden deck, a stark contrast to the near-silent movements of Valeria.

"Top-tier entertainment, or a distraction?" she muttered, not looking at him.

Darwish shrugged, leaning on the railing next to her. "Depends on how you look at it. Sometimes a distraction is exactly what you need. We're heading into some rough waters soon, you know. Thought maybe you could use a laugh."

Valeria's eyes shifted to the distant horizon. Rough waters, indeed. The mission they were on wasn't one she took lightly.

A fleet of pirates with bounties high enough to attract the attention of the upper brass was sailing dangerously close to Marine territory.

Word had reached them that the pirates were being led by someone who had once escaped the Marines—someone who Valeria had personally encountered in the past.

"You know why I'm here," she finally said, her voice soft but unwavering.

"This isn't about laughs or distractions, Darwish."

Darwish's smile faded slightly. "Yeah, I figured as much. The Reaper never rests, huh?"

Before Valeria could respond, a third voice cut through the wind, cool and casual. "Still brooding, Valeria?"

Aokiji approached from behind, his long coat flapping in the wind, his casual stance contrasting sharply with the tension in the air. His ice-blue eyes scanned the horizon before settling on Valeria.

"You know, scaring pirates is one thing, but if you keep scaring your own crew, they're gonna start freezing up before they can even raise a sword," he joked, though his tone carried a hint of seriousness. "What's on your mind?"

Valeria remained silent for a moment before speaking. "There's a storm coming. Not just the weather—something bigger. The pirates we're hunting... they're being led by someone who shouldn't be alive."

Aokiji raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And who would that be?"

"The Scourge of the New World."

Valeria's voice dropped lower, the weight of the name heavy in the air.

"I thought I killed him years ago... but it seems he's returned."

Darwish's eyes widened slightly.

"The Scourge? You mean that lunatic who took out half a Marine fleet by himself?"

Aokiji's normally relaxed demeanor shifted slightly. "If he's back, then this might be bigger than we thought." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

"But you sure it's him? Could just be rumors, you know how pirates are."

Valeria's gaze remained locked on the horizon. "I'm sure. He wears a mark—one only I would recognize. I saw it on the wreckage of the last Marine ship he raided. He's back. And if we don't stop him now, he'll carve a path of destruction straight to Marineford."

A heavy silence followed her words, the gravity of the situation sinking in.

Darwish, for once, didn't have a quip ready. "Well then," he said, clearing his throat, "sounds like we've got work to do."

Aokiji nodded, his expression serious for a change. "We'll tighten the formation and prepare for battle. I'll make sure the men are ready. But Valeria," he added, turning to her,

"remember that you're not alone in this. You've got us. Don't try to face him by yourself."

Valeria said nothing, but Aokiji knew better than to press her. She had always been the kind to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders—much like her cursed mask, a symbol of her burdens.

As Aokiji walked away to prepare the crew, Darwish lingered for a moment longer, leaning closer to her.

"You know," he said quietly, "no matter how much you try to push us away, we're still here. You don't have to face your demons alone, Val."

For the briefest of moments, Valeria's eyes softened. But just as quickly, her hardened gaze returned, and she turned away.

"Get ready for battle, Darwish," was all she said.

Darwish sighed and pushed off the railing, heading toward the lower decks. "Yeah, yeah... but one day, Val, you'll learn to take a joke."

Valeria's grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her thoughts already miles away—focused on the man who should have been dead.

The Scourge was back, and this time, there would be no mercy.