Chapter 138: The Role of the Spirit of the Tree World
The Navy Encampment — Chaos
"What's the situation?! That Uchiha Itachi was a fake?!"
"I saw him fly over with my own eyes! He was right there!"
"It was a trap! The moment we caught up, the whole thing exploded! Turned into a massive nest of vines! Half the third squad is still tangled up in them!"
"Lieutenant General Bastille's unit is still clearing the vines out of the eastern district!"
"What about Admiral Smile? Has anyone seen—"
"LOOK!"
A Marine's trembling finger pointed toward the western ruins. The assembled soldiers turned as one, and the wave of relief that swept through the ranks was almost tangible.
Fujitora emerged from the dust and rubble, his staff-sword sliding into its sheath with a soft click. His uniform was torn in several places. Fresh scratches marked his scarred face. But he was standing. He was walking. And when he spoke, his voice carried the calm authority of a man who had everything under control.
"Truly unexpected. I didn't anticipate he could deploy techniques of that nature."
He allowed himself a quiet breath.
"The diversion at the harbor seems to have drawn the coastal patrols away as well. His decoy was remarkably effective."
"THAT'S NOT GOOD, SIR!"
Staff Officer Sicily came sprinting across the encampment, his clipboard clutched to his chest, his face flushed with panic. "We can't keep moving at this pace! We need to reach the harbor immediately! If the Straw Hats and their allies escape—"
"You make an excellent point, Sicily." Fujitora planted his staff-sword against the earth and began walking forward. Step by measured step. At the pace of a man taking an afternoon stroll. "Let us proceed without delay."
"Sir! With all due respect, AT THIS SPEED—!"
"Would you like to carry me, Sicily?"
"I WILL CARRY YOU IF THAT'S WHAT IT TAKES!"
Sengoku, who had been observing the exchange from a nearby supply crate, burst into laughter. "WAHAHAHA! You two are absolutely priceless! Look at you, Sicily! You're going to give yourself an aneurysm!"
"FORMER FLEET ADMIRAL SENGOKU! THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR JOKES!"
"I apologize, I apologize." Sengoku waved both hands, still chuckling. "But my assignment here is Doflamingo's prisoner transfer. Everything else is Smile's responsibility."
His laughter faded. His eyes—sharp despite the wrinkles surrounding them—had fixed on something in the distant ruins. A figure. Moving with purpose.
"Smile." Sengoku's voice dropped. "Go. Handle the Straw Hats. I'll hold things down at the camp."
Fujitora paused. He turned his blind eyes toward the former Fleet Admiral, and something passed between them—a recognition, an understanding, a silent acknowledgment of debts that could never be spoken aloud.
"Then I leave the camp in your care, Sengoku."
"Don't worry about a thing. I've been doing this since before you were drafted."
Fujitora nodded once. Then he was gone, his staff-sword tapping against the broken earth as he led his forces toward the harbor.
Sengoku watched him go. His expression was unreadable.
"You owe someone a great debt, don't you, Smile?"
The question was barely a whisper. The wind carried it away before anyone could answer.
Off the Coast of Dressrosa — Revolutionary Army Submarine
"Commander Dragon. It's an honor."
Itachi clasped the offered hand. Dragon's grip was firm—callused from years of combat, but controlled. The grip of a man who had learned to measure his strength precisely.
As they shook, Itachi studied the Revolutionary leader's face. The angular features. The intense eyes. The red tattoo that traced across his skin like a warning written in an ancient language. He tried to find Luffy in that face—the rubber captain's boundless grin, his carefree laugh, his absolute inability to take anything seriously—and found nothing.
Luffy and Dragon shared blood. But whatever else they shared was buried too deep for surface inspection.
"Itachi." Sabo had noticed his expression. He leaned in with a knowing grin. "You're wondering how Luffy could possibly be related to the boss, aren't you?"
"...The thought crossed my mind."
"Everyone wonders that. I've been working with the boss for years, and I still don't get it." Sabo shook his head. "You know, he didn't even check on Luffy while we were in Dressrosa. His own son. Fighting a Warlord. Almost dying multiple times. And the boss's first priority was meeting you."
"Sabo."
Dragon's voice cut through the teasing. His eyes had taken on a serious cast—the expression of a commander addressing a subordinate who had forgotten his place.
"As Chief of Staff of the Revolutionary Army, you have a significant backlog of duties awaiting your attention. I suggest you attend to them."
"Right. Yes. Being more prudent. Understood." Sabo pulled off his gloves with a dramatic sigh and retreated toward a mountain of paperwork that had been accumulating on a side desk. "I save Dressrosa, and THIS is the thanks I get."
Dragon's attention returned to his guests. The sternness faded from his features, replaced by something warmer. Something that might, on a less guarded face, have been called kindness.
"I apologize, Itachi-san. Robin. The Revolutionary Army's situation grows more urgent by the day. We haven't had time to prepare a proper reception."
"It's quite alright, Commander." Robin's smile was genuine. "But I am curious—why do you address Itachi as '-san'? It's not a formality I often hear from you."
Dragon was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of genuine respect.
"Sabo told me everything. About what you did in Dressrosa. About how you supported Admiral Fujitora. About the plan you devised to give a good man the power to change the Navy from within."
He met Itachi's eyes.
"A person capable of that kind of foresight. That kind of strategic thinking. That kind of... faith in the potential goodness of an enemy. Such a person deserves to be addressed with respect."
"You honor me too highly, Commander." Itachi shook his head slightly. "I simply did what seemed necessary at the time."
"Which is exactly why the honor is deserved." Dragon gestured toward a set of chairs arranged around the central strategy table. "Please. Sit. I'll be direct—I know your time is as limited as mine."
"That would be best."
Dragon settled into his chair with the practiced ease of a man who had conducted ten thousand briefings. His hands folded on the table before him. His eyes grew distant for a moment, as if gathering words that had been waiting a long time to be spoken.
"Your actions in Rilke Callander have been thoroughly reported to me. Sabo's account was detailed. The Freys Pirates' testimony was consistent. And the aftermath—the fall of the Morel Black Tower, the disappearance of the crooked old man—confirmed what I already suspected."
Itachi's expression sharpened. "Kozuki Chidō."
"Yes." Dragon leaned forward. "The man who tested you. The man who found you worthy after fifty years of rejection. Tell me—after everything that happened... is he still alive?"
"I don't know." Itachi's voice was quiet. "After he transferred the Spirit of the Tree World to me, he collapsed. He was barely breathing. I was told later that he survived—that after Blackbeard attacked Rilke Callander, the old man went to sea alone on a small raft. But in his condition..."
"In his condition, that should have been impossible." Dragon nodded slowly. "And yet. Our intelligence network tracked his raft for three days before we lost it in a storm off the coast of Kuraigana Island. He was still alive when we last saw him. Still moving. Still searching for something."
"Searching for what?"
"That's what I hoped you might tell me."
Itachi closed his eyes. The memory surfaced unbidden—the crooked old man's final words, spoken through cracked lips and bloodstained teeth, as the Spirit of the Tree World took root in his chest.
"I entrust everything to you."
"Inherit the Kozuki forging ability."
"When you reach Wano, use the token to strip the Kozuki clan of their status. Free them from the name. Let them become ordinary people."
"And if any object... kill them."
"He gave me a mission," Itachi said quietly. "And a token. The authority of the Kozuki clan. But beyond that... I don't know what he intended. I don't know why he chose me."
Dragon studied Itachi's face for a long moment. Then he nodded, as if confirming something to himself.
"Then let me tell you what I know." His voice dropped. The ambient noise of the submarine's war room seemed to fade, leaving only his words. "The Spirit of the Tree World is not a Devil Fruit."
"I'm aware."
"What you may not be aware of... is what it actually is."
Dragon leaned back. His eyes grew hooded.
"Our Revolutionary Army has spent decades gathering fragments of the world's hidden history. Information that the World Government has burned nations to suppress. And among those fragments, we have found references to objects of immense power—objects that predate the Devil Fruits, that predate the World Government, that predate everything modern science understands."
"Bloodline factors," Robin said quietly. "The genetic chains that carry life information in every living creature."
"Yes. But not ordinary bloodline factors." Dragon's voice was grim. "The Spirit of the Tree World... is the bloodline factor of the Earth itself."
Silence.
Robin's composure cracked. Her eyes widened. Her hands, usually so steady, trembled against the table's edge.
"The Earth...? That's impossible. The scope of that concept is too vast. When we talk about 'the Earth,' we're talking about the origin of nearly half of all life in this world. The soil. The stone. The foundation upon which everything exists. If it has a bloodline factor—if it carries life information at that scale—"
"Then it is one of the most fundamental forces in existence." Dragon finished the thought for her. "Yes. That's exactly what it is."
Itachi pressed his palm against his chest—against the spot where Kozuki Chidō had driven the Spirit of the Tree World into his heart. He could feel it there. A warmth. A pulse. Something alive and ancient and infinitely patient.
"Dragon. You said the Spirit of the Tree World has a specific function. Beyond transformation and enhancement. Beyond what I've already discovered."
"Yes."
"What is it?"
Dragon's eyes met Itachi's. In their depths, something flickered—fear, perhaps, or hope, or both at once.
"My old friend in Rilke Callander—the man who told me about Kozuki Chidō in the first place—shared one final piece of information before he died."
A pause. The submarine's engines hummed in the silence.
"The Spirit of the Tree World is the key."
"Key?"
"To unlocking one of the Three Ancient Weapons."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
"Hades," Dragon whispered. "The God of the Underworld. The weapon that sleeps beneath the earth, waiting for the key that will awaken it."
(End of Chapter)
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