The Marines and the World Government had been stationed at St. Poplar for over a week. This conflict, on a scale far surpassing the Summit War and capable of deciding the course of world history for centuries to come, was not being broadcast to the public.
The official response from the Government was that the battle would be too gruesome for public viewing; the world simply needed to wait for news of the Government's inevitable victory.
When Doflamingo heard this news, he found it laughably transparent.
Total nonsense, he thought. The only reason they won't broadcast this is because they can't risk the "National Treasure" being exposed to the world.
Ten years ago, he had planned to invade Dressrosa specifically to seize one of the Royal Domains as leverage to extort the World Government, but Zephyr had ruined those plans. However, as one of the three heads of the Donquixote Alliance, a power in the New World second only to the Yonko, Doflamingo's current influence was no less than it would have been with Dressrosa. He had little to complain about.
Crouched atop the mast of Great Staff Officer Tsuru's warship, Doflamingo leaned forward to scan the distant horizon. "Fuffuffu... even the heads of the three major Celestial Dragon families have mobilized. Ten of the twenty Royal Domains have been destroyed; the big shots finally can't take it anymore."
"This battle will affect the next five hundred years of history, at the very least. Fuffuffu... it's enough to make one shiver..."
"Heavenly Yaksha."
Suddenly, Doflamingo heard someone call his name. Startled, he turned to see Fujitora. The Admiral was standing on a floating wooden plank, hovering in mid-air behind him.
Doflamingo grinned. "Oh? If it isn't Admiral Fujitora. To what do I owe the honor?"
Fujitora cracked a smile. "Since we are both on the side that doesn't truly wish to exert itself for the Government, how about we try to get along during this war?"
Even Doflamingo was stunned by Fujitora's bluntness. It took him several seconds to recover before he chuckled lowly. "Fuffuffufu... Admiral Fujitora has no heart for the fight? Now that is interesting."
"In my early days as a Marine, you had already attempted an invasion of Dressrosa, one of the islands 'The Immortal' recently destroyed," Fujitora said calmly. "Combined with the investigations into your past... could it be that you also know of that thing's existence?"
Doflamingo's eyelid flickered. He and Fujitora shared a tacit understanding; they were both intelligent men who didn't need everything spelled out. A subtle hint was enough to know exactly what the other was thinking.
"What are you planning, Fujitora?" Doflamingo asked, narrowing his eyes.
"I have always been a representative of the radical anti-Government faction within the Navy. To me, this is a rare opportunity..." Fujitora paused, then continued, "Heavenly Yaksha, your dissatisfaction with the Government isn't exactly new, is it? Well?"
Again, he didn't state it explicitly, but Doflamingo understood perfectly: Fujitora was going to revolt. He intended to stage a mutiny in the middle of this war.
"Fuffuffu..."
After a few seconds of shock, Doflamingo let his tongue loll out. "After Kuzan, another Admiral betrays them? I wonder what would happen if I reported this to the 'big shots' inside the city?"
"This is a gamble for me. Whether you accept or not is your choice, Heavenly Yaksha." Fujitora began to manipulate gravity, slowly descending.
Doflamingo remained crouched on the mast. After a long silence, the corners of his mouth curled upward. "You crazy bastard..."
…
The entire world was watching, but because reports were limited and the Government was deliberately suppressing information, very little intelligence got out. People didn't even know if the war had actually started, let alone the status of the combat.
Alucard was in no hurry. He hadn't rushed to St. Poplar, instead drifting slowly with the current. It was only after half a month that he finally entered the sea territory of the island.
Though Yako, the former commander of the air force directly under Commander-in-Chief Kong, was dead, the army remained. An aerial unit, aided by flight armor based on Aranea's previous generation design, spotted the pitch-black boat approaching slowly. They were struck with instinctive terror; upon closer inspection, they nearly screamed.
The scout unit scrambled back to the Marine fleet to sound the alarm, signaling everyone to prepare for battle.
Following the successive betrayals of Kuzan and Fujitora, Sengoku, though conflicted, immediately composed himself. He walked out with a mask of confidence and asked the aerial scout, "How many of them are there?"
"R-Report! Currently, we have only spotted Alucard alone," the scout stammered.
"Alone?"
Sengoku was instinctively surprised, muttering to himself, "Is he planning a surprise attack from underwater, like the Whitebeard Pirates did at Marineford?"
Thinking of this, he immediately dispatched specialized submarines to investigate. However, the report came back: there wasn't a single ship beneath the waves. Only Alucard was arriving.
"This guy is far too arrogant," Sengoku hissed, clenching his teeth.
This was the largest military mobilization in the nearly thousand-year history of the Navy and the World Government. They had expected a chaotic free-for-all even more intense than the Summit War. Instead, it had turned into a "one vs. ten thousand" scenario, leaving Sengoku and many others feeling a stinging sense of insult.
"Sengoku-san, what's the plan? Shall we start with a cannon barrage, just like we did against Whitebeard?" Borsalino asked, having appeared atop the mast of Sengoku's ship at some unknown point.
"We know his weakness regarding his immortality. First, we must drive him into a corner and force him to deactivate his undying state."
Sengoku waved his hand and shouted, "Aerial combat units, move out! According to our latest intelligence, Alucard is not suited for combat at sea!"
Sengoku's intel was indeed accurate. Whether or not he had ascended to a True Ancestor, a vampire was still a vampire. To them, the vast, salt-filled ocean was essentially the bottom of hell.
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