The Kingdom of Tia was one of the non–World Government member nations, located in the New World. Its territory was roughly comparable in size to Dressrosa, consisting of one main island and two subsidiary islands.
The kingdom was famed for its military strength. Its king ruled through absolute force, and that was one of the reasons Roldy had chosen it as his future base.
Though the outside world called him a pirate—called him the most vicious criminal alive—Roldy still had certain lines he would not cross.
The kingdom produced abundant fruits and vegetables and occupied an excellent strategic location. Its armed forces were strong enough that ordinary pirate crews wouldn't dare set their sights on it.
But Roldy was no ordinary pirate.
And he wasn't the only one with that idea.
Royal Palace
The king reclined on his throne, holding a chilled goblet of grape wine. Two women in sheer silk lounged in his arms. Below, dancers performed elegantly while ministers sat to either side.
It was an extravagant banquet.
No one cared about the lives of the commoners outside the capital.
When one stood at such heights, indulgence was to be expected.
But the indulgence was shattered by an uninvited guest.
A soldier burst through the doors in a panic. His weapon was gone, his armor stained with blood. He stumbled forward on hands and knees into the hall.
Under the king's displeased gaze, he cried out in terror:
"Your Majesty! Pirates have invaded! They've entered the royal capital—the city guard can't stop them!"
The king shot to his feet. The two attendants fell aside.
His small eyes bulged in fury as he hurled his goblet to the floor. It shattered.
"Pirates? Don't be ridiculous! The last crew that dared invade was beheaded! You useless fools!"
The soldier tried to speak again—
But a stream of fine sand flowed in through the doorway.
It coiled around his ankle like a living thing.
His eyes widened. He reached out to scream—
But the sound died in his throat.
Before the horrified eyes of the court, his skin turned gray. His cheeks hollowed as if every drop of moisture was sucked from his body.
Moments later, he collapsed—
A dried husk.
Even the corpse crumbled apart.
Terror gripped the hall.
Though the king was cruel and incompetent, ruling in the New World without joining the World Government required some degree of insight.
"This method… a Devil Fruit power. Sand…"
His face drained of color.
"So it's you."
The flowing sand gathered and solidified into human form.
A tall man with slicked-back hair emerged, wearing a black coat draped over his shoulders. Gem-studded rings adorned his fingers. A long scar ran across his face, stretching from left ear to right. A thick cigar burned between his lips, smoke curling upward from his cold expression.
"'Sir' Crocodile…"
Cold sweat trickled down the king's temple.
He knew the name.
Crocodile was a rising powerhouse in the New World—a pirate whose reputation was rapidly spreading. A man capable of annihilating an entire kingdom single-handedly.
His own strongest general, though once famed for defeating a pirate with a bounty over 100 million Berries in single combat, was aging.
Would that be enough?
It was not.
A tidal wave of sand erupted and crushed the old general instantly.
Without Armament Haki, facing a Logia user of this caliber was impossible.
Especially one in his prime.
"Enough chatter. Be buried beneath the sands."
Crocodile extended his left hand.
An ocean of sand engulfed the entire palace.
Nobles. Ministers. Servants.
No distinction.
Their bodies dried out in seconds, reduced to mummified corpses that would crumble at a touch.
Once he confirmed there were no survivors, the sands receded.
Crocodile walked gracefully to the throne, picked up an unopened bottle of red wine, and drank deeply.
His ambitions were vast.
Having only recently entered the New World, he had already made a name for himself.
To become the strongest—
He would need a stepping stone worthy of the title.
"The so-called World's Strongest Man… your head will pave my path to the summit."
Whitebeard.
Like many arrogant young pirates, Crocodile believed he could stand shoulder to shoulder with legends the moment he set foot in the New World.
The Kingdom of Tia was merely a staging ground.
With its wealth, he could expand his forces.
When the time was right—
He would challenge Whitebeard.
His subordinates were likely finishing off the remaining guards.
Everything was proceeding according to plan.
Crocodile relished the feeling of control.
"Gahahahaha! Well, well… who would've thought someone else as brilliant as me would choose the same target?"
A thunderous laugh echoed through the ruined palace.
Crocodile shot to his feet, eyes locking onto the entrance.
A towering man stepped in calmly.
"…'Rampaging' Roldy?!"
Crocodile's pupils contracted.
Then—
A fierce battle intent surged from his gaze.
Roldy's name resounded across the seas. He stood just below the likes of Whitebeard and Shiki the Golden Lion in reputation—a monster of the New World.
And perhaps—
Another stepping stone.
"Crocodile. First time meeting you. Thanks for cleaning up—"
"Enough talk!"
Twin blades of sand formed in Crocodile's hands as he lunged forward without hesitation.
"Let's fight! I'll consider you my warm-up before I crush Whitebeard!"
Roldy remained where he stood.
He didn't even use Armament Haki.
The twin sand blades struck his body—
And shattered harmlessly.
"…What?!"
Crocodile's eyes widened.
Roldy's voice drifted lazily through the hall.
"You don't know how high the sky is."
In an instant—
He vanished.
Before Crocodile could react, a massive hand seized his head.
The world spun.
He was hurled like a ragdoll, crashing through the palace walls.
Blood sprayed from his mouth.
"Damn it—Desert Spada!"
Crocodile roared, unleashing a massive compressed blade of sand.
Roldy stepped forward calmly.
"Pitiful brat… fine. I'll show you just how vast the distance between us really is."
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