The air on Beast Island was thick with the scent of blood and wild animals.
Over the past month, this island had witnessed countless life-and-death battles, and now, everything was about to come to an end.
On the deck of the Divine Right, Raiver stood with his hands behind his back, his black robes fluttering slightly in the sea breeze.
His gaze was fixed on the shoreline, where two figures were running toward the giant battleship, splashing through the waves.
It was Jiexi and Jieming.
"Boss!" The two brothers leaped onto the deck and knelt on one knee, their voices brimming with barely suppressed excitement.
Raiver nodded slightly. "Rise. How was your training?"
Jiexi looked up, his eyes filled with confidence.
"Boss! After more than a month of life-and-death battles and rigorous training, we've managed to achieve Armament Haki Hardening!"
As soon as he finished speaking, both of them raised their hands simultaneously.
Their fists were instantly covered in pitch-black Haki.
Raiver watched this scene, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes.
"Not bad," he said. "To reach the level of hardening with Armament Haki in just one month—you've already surpassed many."
Armament Haki was one of the hallmarks of the strong on these seas.
But those who could go from zero to hardening in a month were one in ten thousand.
This required not only talent but also near-masochistic training and the willpower forged in life-and-death battles.
"Your potential is even better than I imagined." Raiver turned and looked toward the distant horizon.
"There's no need to continue training here. Come with me."
The two brothers exchanged a glance, seeing wild joy in each other's eyes.
"Yes, Boss!"
The Divine Right slowly ascended into the air, the Void Stream Nozzle at the stern emitting a low hum.
"Boss, where are we going?" Jieming leaned against the ship's railing, watching Beast Island gradually recede into the distance, his voice full of excitement.
He was only sixteen this year, an age filled with curiosity about the world.
Since being kidnapped by human traffickers as a child and sold into slavery to the Celestial Dragons, and then rescued by Raiver just over a month ago, his life had been confined to cages.
Though the month on Beast Island had been brutal, it was the first time he had truly "lived"—fighting for his own survival and training for his own strength.
Jiexi appeared much more composed, but his clenched fists and slightly trembling shoulders betrayed his inner excitement.
Standing at the bow of the ship, Raiver spoke slowly.
"It's time for us to have a territory of our own."
...
In the grand hall of the Xituna Kingdom palace.
The palace was extravagantly built, with gilded pillars supporting the dome.
On the throne sat the newly crowned king—the eldest son of the Old King, a man in his early thirties with a puffy face.
Below, ministers stood in two rows.
On the left were the civil officials led by the Prime Minister, and on the right were the military officers led by the General.
Logically, after the Old King was killed by the pirate Raiver over a month ago, the kingdom should have been purged by the World Government, especially since a Celestial Dragon had died here.
Strangely, however, more than a month had passed with no movement from the World Government.
As it turned out, the World Government had its own troubles to deal with.
First, the Rocks Pirates kidnapped two Celestial Dragons and publicly humiliated them, enraging the World Government, which ordered the Marines to mobilize their entire force to besiege Hachinosu Island.
In response, the Rocks Pirates launched a surprise attack on the Holy Land Mariejois, inflicting massive damage upon the sacred grounds.
Then came the God Valley incident—Raiver single-handedly slaughtered every Celestial Dragon participating in the hunting event.
These two incidents left the World Government overwhelmed and in disarray, with no energy to spare for minor matters like the Kingdom of Citurna.
But the New King thought differently.
He simply believed his "good fortune" had arrived and even began scheming on how to seize this opportunity.
"Ministers," the New King cleared his throat, his voice echoing through the grand hall:
"Since the previous incident, the late king unfortunately died at the hands of the pirate Raiver, and the national treasury was completely plundered by that scoundrel.
Now, our kingdom's finances are stretched thin, and the royal family's prestige has been severely damaged."
He paused, scanning the faces of those below the dais, before slowly revealing his long-contemplated plan:
"I have decided to raise the tax rate from the original 50% to 80%, and levy a special tax of half the total wealth of the commoners.
This way, we can not only swiftly replenish the national treasury but also prepare a new batch of Celestial Tribute to offer to the World Nobles.
Perhaps this will help ease tensions between our kingdom and the World Government."
As his words fell, the hall fell into a deathly silence for three seconds.
Then, the Prime Minister abruptly stepped forward:
"Your Majesty, you must not! Absolutely not!"
The elderly Prime Minister, over sixty years old, had served two generations of kings.
He understood all too well the consequences of this decision: "A 50% tax rate has already pushed the people to the brink, leaving them barely able to survive.
If it is raised to 80%, and half their wealth is seized as property tax, this will drive the commoners to utter despair!
Rebellion will erupt everywhere, and the kingdom will cease to exist!"
"The Prime Minister exaggerates," the General sneered, stepping forward.
Clad in polished steel armor, a longsword at his waist, his figure imposing and his voice booming:
"With an army of one hundred thousand at our command, should we fear rebellion from those unarmed riffraff?"
He turned to the king and knelt on one knee: "Your Majesty is wise! It is time to make those lowly commoners understand who truly rules this kingdom!
I am willing to personally lead the army to suppress any and all rebellions!"
The New King nodded in satisfaction: "The General speaks wisely. This matter is settled.
Half of the collected taxes will replenish the national treasury, while the other half will be offered as Celestial Tribute to the Celestial Dragons. As for the implementation—"
His words abruptly cut off.
Because a voice, calm and even carrying a hint of laziness, suddenly rang out in the center of the hall, each word clearly reaching everyone's ears:
"Oh? So you enjoy being a dog for the Celestial Dragons that much?"
Everyone turned sharply.
In the center of the hall, three figures had appeared as if out of nowhere.
At the forefront was a young man dressed in black, his expression cold and his gaze indifferent.
Behind him stood two youths—one steady, the other restless—both radiating a murderous aura.
The New King's eyes widened instantly, his mouth agape, but he could not form complete words:
"Ra... Ra-Ra-Ra..."
He wanted to shout "Raiver," but fear gripped his throat, leaving only broken syllables.
Raiver raised his hand, his index finger lightly hooking.
"Ra what Ra."
An invisible force instantly enveloped the New King.
He felt as if seized by a giant hand, his entire body lifting from the throne, arcing through the air before crashing heavily onto the marble floor in the center of the hall.
"Ahhh—!!!" A piercing scream tore through the air.
But it wasn't over yet.
Raiver slightly curled his fingers, and the air around the New King was instantly drained.
His mouth gaped wide, desperately trying to breathe, but no air entered his lungs.
His face rapidly turned crimson, veins bulging violently as his hands clawed frantically at his own throat, legs kicking wildly against the floor.
After a minute, his movements gradually ceased, eyes rolling back until he lay completely still.
The great hall fell into deathly silence.
Everyone stood frozen like wooden statues, their minds utterly blank.
Some couldn't even process what had happened—one moment the king was speaking, the next he had become a corpse.
Until Raiver's voice echoed once more.
He had somehow already seated himself upon the throne, right hand supporting his cheek while his left fingertips lightly tapped the armrest.
"From this day forward, I am the king of the Western Tuna Kingdom."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the assembled crowd below:
"Who agrees, and who objects?"
These words finally snapped the stunned crowd back to reality.
The General was the first to react. Perhaps accustomed to his usual arrogance, he actually drew his longsword with a metallic ring and pointed it at the throne:
"Audacious villain! How dare you assassinate the king! What is your crime?! Guards! Gua—"
Before the word "rds" could leave his mouth,
Raiver's eyes flickered slightly.
In the next instant, the General's body swelled like an overinflated balloon and exploded.
No scream, no warning.
In mere moments, a living person had transformed into a mist of blood, slowly dissipating throughout the hall.
Blood splattered across the faces and robes of nearby officials.
Thud.
Then a second, followed by a third—the sound of knees hitting the floor.
"All hail the king!!!"
Everyone—the Prime Minister, Finance Minister, Military Affairs Minister, noble elders—all knelt down, foreheads pressed tightly against the cold marble floor.
Some were so terrified they lost control of their bladders, yet none dared move a muscle.
"I don't care for the title of king," Raiver shifted to a more comfortable position on the throne:
"From now on, address me as 'Your Majesty'."
"Yes! Your Majesty!!!" The response came in unified, trembling voices.
Raiver felt immense satisfaction inwardly.
No one had told him being emperor could feel this exhilarating!
A single glance could make people kneel, a single word could decide life or death.
This sensation was even more intriguing than mere overwhelming power.
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