Chapter Fifty: Arrival!

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The weather today was exceptionally bright and clear. Kamille and Ice Phoenix had been traveling for several days. During this time, they either spent nights on small islands or on their stylish little boat, never having to worry about sleeping rough in the wild.

Along the way, they encountered countless pirate crews—no fewer than a hundred—which surprised Kamille a bit. And these were only the ones they ran into; who knew how many more there were elsewhere? It seemed being a pirate was quite a lucrative profession: high risk, high reward.

Whenever some oblivious pirates spotted Kamille’s unflagged vessel, trouble would follow. Kamille found it a bit tiresome; since he wasn’t killing anyone, most lost interest after a while. Still, wisdom and stupidity exist side by side. When a group of three pirate ships started shouting that they’d wipe out the legendary “Violet Emperor” Kamille, and actually tried to cause trouble, the crude words of their captain grew even uglier when he saw the enchanting beauty of Ice Phoenix. Kamille was left exasperated—was he to let these fools believe a tiger had become a sick cat simply because it didn’t bare its fangs?

What happened next was witnessed by all the pirates on those ships from miles away. Kamille drew his blade then sheathed it in a flash. The next moment, a terrifying scene unfolded: the three pirate ships, as if made of paper, were reduced to splinters and vanished into the endless sea before everyone’s eyes. After that, no one dared approach Kamille again. No matter how good one’s temper, relentless nuisance can provoke anger. After these events, word spread throughout the New World: Kamille was a man who disliked trouble, yet did not fear it. Though he appeared gentle and approachable, once angered, he was not someone anyone could withstand. Other pirate crews felt Kamille didn’t seem interested in vying for the title of one of the Four Emperors. He gave the impression of a man simply wandering the sea with his wife, enjoying the scenery.

Yet it wasn’t that Kamille lacked ambition. Killing held little weight for him, but he had no desire to slaughter indiscriminately and arouse public outrage. He spared those he could; if someone crossed his path on a bad day, it was their misfortune. As for the position of one of the Four Emperors—what did it matter? The Four Emperors divided the New World into four regions, each ruled by one sovereign. He’d heard from Red that once three Emperors were tentatively established, they’d head to Whitebeard’s territory to openly declare their positions with the recognition of all the pirate captains. Whitebeard, of course, needed no such validation; pirate crews eager to challenge him were routinely defeated before he ever had to lift a finger. This alone testified to the strength of those under Whitebeard’s banner.

Especially remarkable were “Phoenix” Marco and “Diamond” George. Both possessed formidable abilities—Marco, a user of a mythical Zoan-type fruit, and George, a top-tier Paramecia with the power of diamond. Their prowess was fully acknowledged during the destruction of countless rival crews. Recently, no one dared trouble Whitebeard. Pirate crews only lingered far from his territory, waiting to see which fool would tempt fate by challenging him.

Kamille planned to reveal himself during their selection. If they refused to add another seat, things would be simple—he’d eliminate whoever was chosen, and the title would be his. His strength was undeniable; none would dare object. Should anyone oppose, force would quickly silence dissent.

Meanwhile, the Navy had not been idle. More and more naval forces were entering the New World, reportedly led by Admiral Red Dog. Rumor had it that the legendary Vice Admiral Garp was among them, causing pirates in the New World’s first half to grow wary.

Of course, if the Navy became too aggressive, the pirates of the second half were prepared to strike back. The more marines a pirate killed, the greater his achievements—and the closer he’d be to claiming a seat among the Four Emperors. This sentiment had been growing among pirate crews. Once the most powerful crews coordinated their efforts, a massive ambush against the Navy seemed inevitable.

Kamille, however, paid little attention to these matters. He was now close to Whitebeard’s base and could already see several of Whitebeard’s subordinate pirate crews. Apparently, word of Kamille’s approach had spread. These strong pirate leaders greeted Kamille politely, hailing him as they passed his ship. Kamille was in fine spirits—these pirates seemed united and harmonious. Whitebeard had indeed built a remarkable force; he truly deserved to be called the captain of the New World’s mightiest pirate crew.

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Kamille lounged on a deck chair, basking in the sun above the sea—a truly enjoyable life. Beside him, Ice Phoenix peeled and ate tangerines, which they’d picked up on some small islands, along with other fruits. Though they didn’t need to eat, a bit of fruit was always pleasant.

“They’re coming, aren’t they?” Kamille murmured, eyes half-closed.

Suddenly, a plume of blue fire soared from the distance. The flames took the shape of a legendary phoenix. Ice Phoenix, sitting nearby, curled her lip. Phoenix? She was a genuine phoenix—how could he compare?

Soon, the bird drew near to Kamille’s ship and hovered by the rail, its flaming body gradually fading to reveal a man with a slightly crooked mouth.

It was none other than Marco, Captain of the First Division.

“Well, you’ve been quite the sensation lately, Kamille,” Marco said playfully.

Marco had met Kamille over a decade ago, back when he was just an ordinary pirate on Whitebeard’s ship. Eight years ago, after obtaining his Devil Fruit power, his strength soared. Now, with remarkable achievements, his power rivaled even the Admirals.

“Haha, isn’t this Marco? I’ve seen your bounty poster—four hundred million, that’s no small sum! So, is Whitebeard on the island? I’m here to share a drink with him,” Kamille replied with a hearty laugh, standing up.

Ice Phoenix merely smiled politely at Marco and then returned to peeling her tangerine, ignoring him.

Marco laughed heartily, folded his wings, and hopped aboard Kamille’s ship.

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“He’s here. Just now, a captain from another crew contacted Pops and said you were near the island. Pops sent me to fetch you. You really are something these days. I still remember over ten years ago, you were just a kid,” Marco said, ending with a mischievous chuckle.

Kamille rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, then. No need to keep Whitebeard waiting! You lead the way, we’ll follow.”

“Alright.” Marco nodded, glancing at Ice Phoenix. Blue flames radiated from his body, massive azure wings unfurled, and with a gentle flap, he soared above the sea beside the ship.

Kamille turned to Ice Phoenix. “Come, let’s go meet the old man.”

Ice Phoenix rose. With a wave of Kamille’s hand—and to Marco’s astonishment—the small boat vanished from the water’s surface.

Was this the power of a Devil Fruit? Marco wondered. But then he saw Kamille and Ice Phoenix standing in midair, and his mouth opened in shock. Regaining his composure, he said nothing more, turning to fly toward the distant island.

Kamille and Ice Phoenix exchanged a glance and followed after him.

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