Chapter 22 Wrath Of The Submariner

As the Sea Kings carried Namor and Enel steadily across the calm ocean, Namor felt a faint disturbance in the distance. His bright eyes narrowed as he tapped into his recently honed observation haki. Focusing intently, he sensed multiple presences far ahead, clustered together in precise formation.

"There's something up ahead," Namor muttered, his voice cutting through the gentle splash of waves. "Feels like a marine fleet."

Enel, lounging lazily on the back of a massive serpent-like Sea King, raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Could just be some merchant ships too scared to move out of formation."

Namor glanced at him sharply. "It's marines. There's no mistaking it." He gestured toward the horizon. "You're better at observation haki than I am. Take a look and tell me what you see."

Enel sat up with a sigh, stretching dramatically before closing his eyes. His face grew serious as his senses extended outward, probing far beyond Namor's reach. After a moment, his lips curled into a smug grin.

"Ah, now this is interesting," he said, his tone playful. "There's a decent-sized fleet—about five ships, I'd say. Standard formations, nothing too fancy."

Namor frowned. "Anything unusual?"

Enel opened his eyes, a spark of amusement in them. "Oh, definitely. Two big fish among the guppies. They feel... strong." He leaned back, tapping his chin. "One's got a presence like a rabid dog, aggressive and restless. The other feels like a wall—solid, steady, but sharp." He smirked. "Ring a bell? They're not super strong like that other guy, but they're not pushovers, either."

Namor's expression darkened, his grip tightening on the edge of the Sea King he rode. "Vice Admirals. They'll be looking for trouble if they see us."

"Trouble's their job," Enel replied with a shrug. "And ours is deciding whether we smack them down or swim the other way."

Namor's eyes burned with a flicker of defiance. "We don't run. The Sea Kings might give us the edge if things get messy."

Enel's grin widened. "Now you're speaking my language. Let's see how this plays out, shall we?" He tilted his head, focusing again on the fleet. "They haven't noticed us yet. Could be we've got the drop on them."

Namor nodded, his mind already working through potential strategies. "Good. Let's keep it that way for now. Get us closer, but not too close. I want to see what they're up to before we make a move."

The Sea Kings, sensing Namor's determination, surged forward with silent grace, their massive forms cutting through the water like shadows. The tension in the air was palpable as Namor and Enel prepared for whatever lay ahead.

…

…

Vice Admiral Dalmatian stood on the deck of the lead ship, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. The fleet was cutting through unusually calm waters, and the eerie silence of the area put him on edge. He adjusted his cap, glancing at the marines bustling around him.

"Feels like the Calm Belt out here," he muttered, his voice gruff. "Never liked this kind of quiet. Makes you think the sea's hiding something."

Mozambia, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, chuckled. "You're always too tense, Dalmatian. Not every patrol's a battlefield. Sometimes it's just about showing the flag."

Dalmatian grunted, his gaze lingering on the open sea. "That kind of thinking is why pirates get the drop on us. You don't survive long in the Marines by underestimating the ocean—or the monsters hiding in it."

He sighed, the weight of his long career pressing on him. He'd fought countless battles, earned his rank through blood and sweat. But something always gnawed at him—how no matter how many victories they claimed, the Grand Line never truly bent to the Marines' will.

As he mused, his keen senses pricked. His gaze snapped to the sky, narrowing as he spotted something unusual in the distance. A figure—no, a man—soaring through the air with an enormous black trident in hand, his body radiating a faint turquoise aura.

"What the hell…?" Dalmatian's voice trailed off as a bolt of panic surged through him. He turned to shout a warning, but before the words left his mouth, the sky lit up with blinding light.

A colossal bolt of lightning tore through the heavens, striking the fleet with devastating precision. Two ships erupted into flames, splintering into charred debris as the screams of marines filled the air. Chaos ensued as men scrambled to take cover or leap into the sea.

"Brace for impact!" Mozambia roared, but before anyone could react further, monstrous forms burst from the depths. Massive Sea Kings surged out of the water, their jaws snapping down on another ship and dragging it into the ocean's abyss.

Dalmatian's heart pounded as he turned to Mozambia, but the man had no time to rally their forces. From above, the figure with the trident descended like a storm incarnate, his weapon gleaming with armament haki.

Namor.

With a feral roar, Namor crashed into the deck where Mozambia stood, his trident cutting through the Vice Admiral's defense like paper. Mozambia's blood splattered across the deck as he crumpled, lifeless, his body falling in a heap at Namor's feet.

Dalmatian snarled, his instincts kicking in. He readied himself to transform, his muscles tensing as he prepared to unleash his hybrid form. But before he could move, another figure descended from the sky—Enel. The mad god moved faster than Dalmatian could track, his fist glowing black with haki as he drove it straight into Dalmatian's nose with bone-shattering force.

The Vice Admiral staggered, pain exploding in his face as he was launched backward, directly toward Namor. Dazed, Dalmatian barely had time to comprehend what was happening before Namor stepped forward, his trident already poised.

Without hesitation, Namor drove the weapon through Dalmatian's chest, impaling him with brutal efficiency. Blood poured from the wound as the Vice Admiral's body twitched, then went still.

The battlefield fell silent save for the crackle of flames from the wrecked ships. Namor ripped his trident free from Dalmatian's corpse and looked over at Enel, who was casually brushing ash off his shoulders.

"Efficient," Enel said with a smirk. "I like that."

Namor didn't respond. He turned to the surviving marines, who were cowering in fear, and addressed them with a cold, commanding voice. "This is a warning. The sea no longer belongs to you."

With that, Namor and Enel grabbed the heads of Dalmatian and Mozambia. They mounted the gruesome trophies on pikes at the edge of the remaining ship's deck, the message unmistakable—a declaration of war.

As they flew off into the distance, leaving the remnants of the fleet to drift among the wreckage, Namor glanced at Enel. "We're just getting started."

Enel grinned, sparks dancing at his fingertips. "Now this is fun."

…

…

All across the seas, the chilling sight of mutilated marines began to spread like wildfire. Merchant ships, fishing vessels, and even other marine patrols stumbled upon gruesome displays of carnage: crucified bodies of marines, their heads impaled on pikes, standing as dark warnings. The message was clear—there was no safety, not even for those who enforced order.

News spread quickly, as terrified civilians and shaken marines reported the sightings. The higher-ups of the Marine forces were inundated with reports, each one more horrifying than the last.

In Marineford, Fleet Admiral Sengoku stood at the head of a long table, surrounded by Vice Admirals and strategists. The air was heavy, a grim tension thickening with each passing moment. One by one, reports were read aloud, detailing the desecration of marine forces across multiple locations.

"Another fleet off the Grand Line… twelve men crucified, heads missing. The bodies were burned beyond recognition," a grim-faced officer reported, his voice shaking.

"One of the ships left behind had the words 'FEAR THE SUBMARINER," added another officer, sliding a photograph across the table.

Sengoku took the photograph, his eyes narrowing. The carving was rough, yet deliberate—a mocking taunt to the Marines.

Vice Admiral Tsuru leaned forward, her calm demeanor masking the unease in her voice. "This is not just the work of pirates. The level of coordination and brutality here... it's almost personal."

Garp, sitting off to the side, remained uncharacteristically silent. His fists clenched as he stared at a detailed map of the reported incidents, his jaw tight. He already knew who was behind this.

"Any survivors from the fleet?" Sengoku asked sharply.

"Yes, Fleet Admiral," the officer replied, his tone heavy. "A handful of marines from Vice Admiral Dalmatian's fleet managed to escape. They confirmed the culprits—Mckenzie D. Namor and an individual referred to as Enel."

The room fell silent.

"Mckenzie D. Namor…" Sengoku murmured, his mind racing. "That name keeps appearing, and each time, the devastation grows."

Tsuru nodded. "We've seen pirates with ambition before, but this... it's different. He's not just carving out a name for himself. He's declaring war."

The doors to the war room burst open, and a marine commander stumbled in, his face pale. "Fleet Admiral! Another report just came in—three more fleets were found in the Calm Belt. Same scene. Crucifixions, heads on pikes, and a message left behind."

"What message?" Sengoku demanded, his voice cold.

The commander swallowed hard. "It read: 'The sea answers only to me.'"

Garp finally spoke, his voice low but heavy with anger. "That bastard's taking it too far."

Sengoku turned to him, his expression sharp. "Garp, you've encountered him, right? What can you tell us about this Namor?"

Garp sighed, leaning back in his chair. "He's dangerous. Not just because of his power, but because of his charisma. The sea listens to him—literally. Sea Kings answer his call like he's one of them. And that trident of his… it's no ordinary weapon. But thankfully he doesn't seem to be well versed in haki. But if he does somehow learn how to use haki, well you've got someone who's not just a fighter but a force of nature."

"And Enel?" Tsuru asked.

Garp shook his head. "That one's just as bad. From what I saw… he seemed to have a Lightning related Logia devil fruit, speed, and an ego the size of the sky. He's unpredictable, but deadly. Together, they're more than just pirates. They're making a statement. I managed to take them both down with relative ease, but they managed to get away before I could capture them. Their ally, Arlong, Is currently in the Sabaody Archipelago marine base."

Sengoku slammed his fist on the table. "This cannot continue. Mobilize every available fleet in the Grand Line and the Calm Belt. I want Namor and Enel found and brought to justice. If they resist, eliminate them."

"Should we call in the Warlords?" one Vice Admiral asked hesitantly.

Sengoku's eyes narrowed. "No. This is a Marine matter. If we rely on the Warlords to clean up our mess, it will only embolden these criminals. We'll handle this ourselves."

The room fell silent again, the weight of the situation pressing down on everyone present.

As the meeting adjourned, Garp lingered, his mind clouded with thoughts of his encounter with Namor. He knew the young pirate was dangerous, but there was something else—something deeper that made him uneasy. Namor wasn't just fighting for chaos or greed. He had a purpose, and that made him all the more terrifying.

Outside the war room, marines scrambled to prepare. Across the seas, fleets were mobilized, orders were dispatched, and the hunt for Mckenzie D. Namor began in earnest. But even as the Marines prepared for war, whispers of Namor's actions spread among pirates and civilians alike, inspiring awe and fear in equal measure.

The sea was changing, and its new king was making his move.