Despite the overwhelming display of power, one thing was certain to Loya: the man in front of him was definitely not an Admiral.
Since the era of Garp and Zephyr, the Marines had lacked an Admiral who relied primarily on swordsmanship. Kizaru, who could trade blows with the "Dark King" Rayleigh in a duel of blades, always finished his fights by firing off "dynamic light waves"—either from his fingers or by turning into one himself.
If it had been one of the Admirals, the attack would have been unmistakably characteristic of their fruit powers. One only had to compare Dracule Mihawk, the world's greatest swordsman, to the few Vice Admirals who lasted less than a minute on screen to realize that while sword intent was a formidable ability, it had beco far too common.
The battlefield was a hellscape of frozen limbs and gore. The few pirate heads that remained intact still bore expressions of dazed confusion.
Loya leapt down from the air and exhaled a breath of cold mist. As the current t the moisture in the air, it turned into tiny, starlike particles that drifted to the ground.
I killed them... so why don't I feel sick?
Loya pondered this philosophical question. Perhaps the long weeks as an island hunter had fundantally altered his perception of life in ways he couldn't grasp.
In the distance, seeing Loya standing on the beach, Vice Admiral Momonga ordered the warship to close in. Regardless of Loya's motives, whether he was a pirate, a bounty hunter, or so hermit living in the mountains, it was his duty as a Vice Admiral to investigate.
The warship stopped a hundred ters out, blocked by a thick, solidified layer of ice. The ship wasn't equipped for ice-breaking, and Momonga had no interest in wasting energy using sword intent to clear a path. He simply took a small squad of Marines and jumped onto the ice.
As they drew closer, Momonga was startled by Loya's appearance. He looked incredibly young. Thinking back to the attack just now, which rivaled the power of Admiral Aokiji in his pri, Momonga had expected an experienced master. He hadn't realized that this person appeared even younger than Aokiji did when he first joined the Marines.
Admiral Kuzan, codenad Aokiji, was considered a "monster" of talent for joining at 19 and becoming an Admiral in his thirties. The person standing before him looked even younger than that, yet possessed such terrifying strength. The realization was deeply shocking.
If Loya knew what Momonga was thinking, he would have found it hilarious. Younger than Aokiji? Please, I just have a baby face! I'm a natural! I was the golden boy of the new hires at my company because I looked cute and knew how to butter people up.
Ice Dragon's Roar, as a lethal skill unlocked by his level-up, was undeniably powerful. Compared to it, Aokiji's ice powers when he first joined were arguably weaker. But the cost? That single move had drained one-third of Loya's total magic power. Even at his absolute limit, he could only use that level of attack three tis.
Aokiji, on the other hand, could freeze a hundred ters of ocean seemingly without breaking a sweat. One only had to look at his ten-day, ten-night battle against Sakazuki to understand his stamina.
The two stood face to face. Watching Loya stare blankly into space, caught in his existential thoughts, Momonga spoke first: "Thank you for your assistance. I am Vice Admiral Momonga of the Marine Headquarters. May I ask who you are..."
"Momonga?"
Hearing the na, Loya snapped back to reality. The hazy mories in his mind instantly cleared. He scanned the man before him—the mohawk, the eccentric mustache, the katana at his hip, the "Justice" coat draped over his shoulders—this was indeed the legendary Vice Admiral Momonga.
He's a genuinely good guy! Loya's eyes lit up.
Momonga was righteous and upright, cared deeply for his subordinates, and lacked the ruthless, rciless nature of Akainu. Simply put, if Loya wanted to get off this island, finding him was the best possible outco. Even if he hadn't wiped out the Scissors Pirates as a "token of allegiance," Momonga would have rescued a shipwrecked survivor.
Loya dropped the icy deanor he'd maintained as a hunter. Though he possessed great power, his mindset was still that of his forr otaku self. Having seen no one for weeks, he was suddenly overco with emotion, his eyes welling up with tears.
"My fellow human! Soone finally arrived! Please, take away! I've been stranded on this island for weeks—the wild boars are almost extinct because I ate them all!"
Momonga: "..."
The Vice Admiral was montarily stunned. What is this? Where did that master swordsman go? How did he suddenly turn into a refugee?
But seeing Loya's filthy, tattered clothes and bare feet, Momonga twitched his mouth and decided to believe him.
Under the watchful eyes of the Marines, Loya boarded the warship. Even from afar, they had felt the intense cold of his attack; they now looked at him with admiration, completely ignoring his ragged appearance.
In the world of One Piece, power was everything. A person of strength commanded respect wherever they went. Besides, the world was full of weirdoes and eccentrics—they simply assud Loya was a powerful individual with a unique sense of fashion.
The mont his feet touched the deck, Loya suddenly grabbed the railing with a serious expression, staring fixedly at the sea.
After Momonga finished arranging the cleanup of the battlefield, he followed Loya onto the ship. Seeing him like this, Momonga asked, puzzled, "Mr. Loya? What are you doing..."
Loya raised a hand, swallowed hard, and forced a pathetic, strained smile at Momonga.
"Vice Admiral Momonga, does the ship have any dicine for seasickness?"
Momonga: "...What a truly bizarre person."
He turned to his adjutant. "Go find the ship's doctor imdiately... and prepare a set of clothes." Momonga added, glancing at Loya's beggar-like attire.
The gray-haired doctor soon arrived. He made Loya lie back against the railing, pulled back his eyelids to inspect them, and asked, "Your symptoms are quite severe... and the ship hasn't even started moving yet. Has it been like this since childhood, or is this recent?"
Loya didn't know what to say—he couldn't bla anyone but himself for being an idiot. He had been so focused on escaping the island that he'd forgotten the Dragon Slayer's greatest weakness: motion sickness!
Pale-faced and listless, he lied, "I... I ate a Devil Fruit... and it's been like this ever since. Doctor... am I beyond saving?"
"A Devil Fruit?" Momonga pondered. Indeed, nothing else could explain the power Loya had displayed earlier.
But what kind of Devil Fruit would cause soone to get seasick?
Eating a Devil Fruit ant being hated by the sea; touching seawater rendered the user powerless and limp—a curse in itself. And compared to ordinary fruit users, Loya had the added burden of chronic seasickness.
Momonga was genuinely curious and felt a sense of relief: What an... incredibly unlucky guy! It's a good thing I never ate a Devil Fruit.
In reality, this was a cover story Loya had prepared. Dragon Slayer magic wasn't native to this world; he needed a logical explanation for his powers, and the Devil Fruit was the perfect scapegoat.
Who knew how many strange and wonderful fruits were scattered across the sea? Dead n tell no tales. Besides, Loya wasn't entirely lying; he had indeed beco this way ever since he "ate" his power. He felt no guilt in saying it.
Hearing Loya's explanation, the doctor's expression turned solemn. He pulled a vial of dicine from his kit, handed it to Loya, and wiped his temples with alcohol-soaked cotton.
"If this is a side effect of a Devil Fruit, then there is no cure. Drink this first; it will help you feel a bit better. I'll bring you so more dicine later. It won't cure you, but it should help you get a good night's sleep."
"Th-thank you, Doctor."
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