Chapter 202: Chapter 202: War-Torn Vodka Kingdom
In the heart of the Grand Line, beneath the imposing manor of Iron Shield Earl in the Valorant Kingdom, a grim scene unfolded.
Inside a massive glass aquarium, a young mermaid cowered in the corner, her eyes wide with terror as she watched the humans outside.
"Haha, Viscount Nass, that trip to the Sabaody Archipelago was worth every second! The human auction actually had a mermaid—talk about a score!"
"You said it! And we owe it to that New World big shot, Brook. If he hadn’t taken out a Celestial Dragon, those high-and-mighty types wouldn’t have cut back on their Sabaody vacations. Made it a breeze for you to snag this beauty, Viscount!"
Two wealthy merchants fawned over the gaunt, pale-faced Viscount Nass, their flattery dripping like honey.
"Nahahaha, scoring a mermaid is nice, but this one’s not quite what I had in mind. Too young, for starters. And I was hoping for one that can shift into human legs," Nass said, eyeing the frightened mermaid with mild disinterest.
He’d heard mermaids could choose between legs or a tail at age 30, but this one was far from that milestone.
"No worries, Viscount!" the portly merchant chimed in, thumping his chest confidently. "I’ve got connections with the auction house. The second they get another, they’ll hit us up via Den Den Mushi. We’ll grab you the perfect one next time!"
Nass nodded, satisfied with the merchant’s enthusiasm.
"Alright, you two have done well. With this war brewing between Valorant and the Vodka Kingdom, you’re hereby appointed as suppliers for Iron Shield Earl’s army—uniforms, rations, and a batch of weapons. Make it happen."
The merchants’ faces lit up, their jowls quivering with glee. This was it—the golden ticket they’d been chasing. Supplying an army during a massive war was a license to print Belly, especially with the shady deals and profiteering that came with it. War was the ultimate money-maker.
As Valorant’s most powerful earl and military commander, Ironshield held sway over the kingdom’s forces. Even the king tread lightly around him—three parts respect, five parts fear.
"Thank you, Nass-sama! We’ll pour our hearts into serving Valorant!" the merchants gushed, bowing repeatedly.
Clutching their newly signed contracts and an official writ from Ironshield’s manor, they scurried off to prepare their stockpiles. Armed with the writ, they could strong-arm competitors, forcing them to sell goods at rock-bottom prices. The army’s supply chain was now their domain, and they weren’t above flexing Ironshield’s name to intimidate rivals into compliance.
...
Across the sea, the Vodka Kingdom was in dire straits. To meet the Celestial Dragons’ crippling Heavenly Tribute, they’d resorted to yearly wars, plundering weaker nations to fill their coffers. But they’d already bled the nearby kingdoms dry, and now they faced a formidable foe: Valorant, a nation nearly their equal. This war’s outcome was anyone’s guess.
In the Vodka Kingdom’s youth brigade, a horned, stone-faced boy hefted a spiked mace over his shoulder. A fresh scar marred his cheek, earned from a suicidal charge he’d just survived.
As a rare Oni, Kaido had settled in the Vodka Kingdom with his parents as a child. Their massive frames and ravenous appetites forced them to rely on their brute strength, joining the army to secure enough food.
Last year, both of Kaido’s parents perished in a genocidal campaign against a neighboring nation. The meager bereavement funds barely sustained him for a year. Now, at just eight years old, Kaido had joined the youth brigade to keep his belly full. He’d already fought in several battles—and walked away each time.
Spitting a glob of bloody phlegm, Kaido surveyed the aftermath. Of ten youths in his unit, six were dead, two critically wounded, one missing a leg. He’d escaped with only minor cuts.
He didn’t get why the kingdom was always at war. Couldn’t they just focus on building something better? Endless invasions hadn’t made life any sweeter—things were getting worse. Orphans like him were piling up, all joining the so-called "heroic" youth brigade just to eat.
Survivors were hailed as strong, showered with praise, food, and coin by officers. As long as you didn’t die, you were a "hero." But Kaido had seen it play out: kids who survived one or two charges soaked up the cheers, only to throw themselves into the next battle and never come back.
Back at camp, Kaido wolfed down his rations. His so-called "comrades" were gone again, replaced soon by a fresh batch of youths. They’d wait together for the next fight, the next charge.
Young Kaido didn’t know why he kept going. All he knew was to kill, survive, and eat.
He’d overheard soldiers grumbling about the king waging wars to scrape together the Heavenly Tribute for the Celestial Dragons. But this relentless warmongering was draining the Vodka Kingdom dry.
For the first time, Kaido felt a spark of hatred for the Celestial Dragons. Why did the king bow to their every whim, plunging the nation into endless conflict?
For now, he followed orders—mostly to eat. But deep down, he was starting to crave the thrill of battle. Fear didn’t touch him. Instead, he looked forward to the next fight, relishing the rush of crushing enemies. He wanted to face stronger foes, to grow stronger himself.
...
The war between Valorant and the Vodka Kingdom raged. As the aggressors, Vodka’s forces had seized a foothold on the island, but Iron Shield Earl was no pushover.
Time and again, he repelled their assaults, inflicting heavy losses. On his fortified island, Ironshield was like an ironclad turtle, unyielding. Even when Vodka’s troops captured a sliver of coastline, his strongholds, ample supplies, and ferocious firepower crushed the invaders’ morale.
The Vodka Kingdom had split its forces, launching simultaneous attacks on two other key Valorant islands. Their strategy: overwhelm on multiple fronts. If even one army succeeded, they’d plunder enough wealth to meet this year’s Heavenly Tribute.
Amid this chaotic battlefield, war reporters in distinctive uniforms darted about, snapping photos. Neither side targeted them, respecting their neutrality.
One reporter, dressed in a seagull-themed outfit, had bribed a Vodka Kingdom officer for access. Spotting Kaido—the target of his assignment—he meticulously documented the boy’s position and status.
Hoping to get closer under the guise of an interview, the reporter approached, only to freeze under Kaido’s icy, predatory stare.
Backing off, he relayed his findings to Mortomas at the World Economy News Agency, pocketing a tidy bonus for the intel.
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