The sea boiled fiercely below the cliffs of Kuraigana, dark waves crashing violently against the jagged stone, like desperate prayers flung into the abyss. Each surge carried a cry, every crest a scream; yet, above it all, standing unwavering and untouchable, loomed the Abyss Fortress—silent, eternal, and unyielding.
It would not fall. Not in a thousand storms. Not beneath a thousand banners.
Forged by our own hands, shaped from the remnants of ruin, and sealed with the breath of the abyss, its stones murmured with ancient power, while its towers bore our indelible mark. Now, like a slumbering giant, it awaited our triumphant return.
I stood upon the high balcony of the central keep, my gaze fixed upon the legions amassed in the courtyard below. The Abyss Guards knelt in absolute silence—an unbroken line of dark-armored figures bound by loyalty, cloaked in mist, their eyes gleaming faintly beneath visors etched with the Abyss seal. Their discipline transcended mere obedience; it was an unwavering faith.
In front of this formidable assembly stood Commander 01, the Chief Abyss Guard. His armor shimmered with a subtle light, abyssal runes pulsing in sync with the heartbeat of the fortress itself. No weapon was needed; his presence commanded enough respect.
To my right, Velra stood proud and resolute. Her black-crimson armor flickered like embers in darkness, and her spear stood firmly beside her—a monument destined never to fall. Though she was silent, her gaze swept across the ranks below with the keen perception of a general forged for battle.
On my left was Mihawk, his black coat trailing in the wind, Yoru resting across his back—an unmistakable burden only he could bear. His unreadable expression signaled that, even in silence, he etched this moment into the annals of history.
We were prepared. The Court of the Abyss was in perfect readiness.
Then, the System's voice resonated within my mind—cold, calm, and final.
[First Campaign Activated: Alabasta Conquest.]
[Deployment Team:]
→ Ravro D. Flare (Abyss King)
→ Velra (Abyss Knight - First Oathbearer)
→ Dracule Mihawk (Abyss Knight [A])
[Defensive Orders:]
→ Commander 01: Overseer of Kuraigana Bastion.
→ Abyss Guards: Maintain Mist Curtain and Fortress Defense Protocols.
I turned to my two knights, my voice low yet steady, filled with the weight of destiny.
"Our fortress stands," I declared, and even the mist seemed to lean in. "Our banners rise. Our blades are sharp."
Stepping forward, the stone beneath my boots groaned in recognition. Mist curled around me—not in fear, but in reverence.
"Now we take the first stone," I proclaimed. "Now we carve our empire from the flesh of kingdoms."
Velra knelt, her spear crossing over her chest like an oath once carved in steel. Mihawk inclined his head—not low, but deep enough to convey respect, rare and genuine.
Together, we descended from the keep and approached the ship that awaited us in the harbor—a magnificent vessel draped in shadow, sails as black as the void, its hull crafted from Abyss-warped wood that pulsed faintly like the heart of a living beast. The prow, shaped like a coiled serpent, bared fangs as though devouring the sun itself.
The Abyss Serpent—our inaugural ship, our first hammer to strike against the world.
As the wind howled and the sails filled, the vessel surged forward—silent and swift. Behind us, the mist enveloped Kuraigana, veiling our fortress from the prying eyes of gods and men.
I did not look back. The future lay not in the past. It dwelled in the flames yet to ignite, in the kingdoms yet to tumble, in the empire we were destined to forge, piece by burning piece.
—
**Mihawk's Perspective — The Sword's Oath**
I stood at the far edge of the Abyss Serpent's deck, the cold mist whispering against my face like a phantom's breath. The Grand Line stretched before us—boundless, untamed, defiant. It should have felt like home; it always had. But today... it seemed smaller.
Today, the sea no longer appeared infinite. It felt as if it had already been claimed.
From a distance, I observed Ravro—the way the ship subtly responded to his will, how the mist parted around him with respect. He exuded not arrogance, but a force the world had forgotten how to resist.
It was more than mere strength.
I had encountered strength before. I had crossed blades with monsters, challenged emperors, and flirted with death countless times, never once finding a man I could honor as king.
But Ravro D. Flare… he was different.
He was inevitable.
He did not confront the world; he simply advanced, expecting it to yield—and it did.
I rested my hand on Yoru's hilt, the blade humming beneath my fingers, as if it recognized something lost but now found. I had been titled the greatest. I had traversed this sea alone, driven only by the pursuit of a worthy clash.
But the truth was now undeniable.
A blade without a king is a blade squandered.
I had wasted too many years waiting for the world to present me with something worthy.
Ravro would construct that world—a realm ruled not by bloodlines or hollow titles, but by the unbreakable law of power alone. In that world, I would not remain a relic. I would become a legend.
This was not submission—it was an allegiance