The following morning, once again at Rain Dinners, but this time in the opulent underground chamber belonging to Crocodile.
The room was spacious and lavishly decorated. Solid white-stone tiles lined the floor, and compared to a few days ago, the surroundings had become notably more extravagant. In the southeast corner stood a crimson mahogany wine cabinet and refrigerator, stocked with dozens of bottles of premium red wine. In the northwest corner, an ornate weapons rack bore a golden spear and a gem-encrusted scimitar.
Aeridar couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. Damn, he thought. Crocodile really is loaded.
Seated on a plush sofa like a king on his throne, Crocodile looked completely at ease. Across from him sat Aeridar and Arlan, also lounging on a sofa. Behind them, Oliver and the other four crew members were gathered around a round table, casually eating. Several of Crocodile's trusted men stood watch by the door.
"No wonder he's a seasoned Vice Admiral, he's forcing me into a decisive battle," Aeridar chuckled dryly after hearing the news Crocodile brought.
The battle hadn't even begun, but both sides were already probing each other in secret, attempting to gather intel.
"The Navy's target is you," Crocodile said coolly, dead-fish eyes fixed on Aeridar as he puffed a morning cigar. "You'll have to handle it yourself. At most, I can provide some intelligence."
As a Warlord of the Sea, Crocodile couldn't openly act against the Navy, he was constrained by the very title that protected him.
"Their top brass isn't the issue. It's the disparity in numbers that bothers me," Arlan said with a frown. "We've got quality, but only seven of us. They've got over four hundred, with officers of every rank. And their elite match up well against ours. Our top-tier combat strength might cancel each other out, but they've still got the numbers."
"It's fine," Aeridar said, a smirk curling his lips. "The Navy sent a full squadron led by a Headquarters Vice Admiral, they clearly have some idea of what we're capable of. I don't know why they chose to spring their ambush early, and with only a few hundred men at that, but... this could be our opening."
"And what's your plan?" Crocodile's tired gaze rolled upward.
"Right now, it's a standoff, neither side is confident in total victory. We're not sure we can take them, and they're not sure they can take us. So... we gamble."
"How?" Arlan asked, turning to look at his captain.
"We gamble that they don't want too many casualties. That they don't want to damage Rainbase." Aeridar's grin turned vicious. "Winner takes all, one duel to settle everything."
"You mean...," Arlan's eyes widened, catching on to what his captain was implying.
"A duel isn't a bad idea," Crocodile said, expression unreadable. He didn't ask whether Aeridar could win, he knew the man had already made up his mind to stake his life.
Crocodile didn't stop him either. If Aeridar pulled it off, it would prove he had the destructive power to rival even a Warlord like Gecko Moria. It was a test, and a potential confirmation that Aeridar was a force to be reckoned with.
"Captain, I'll keep an eye on the rest of the Navy while you're at it," Oliver said suddenly, looking up from his meal.
"Hahaha, then help me deliver the challenge to Vice Admiral Syrons," Aeridar said, grinning with wild confidence.
"I'll be watching the fight myself," Crocodile added, standing up and heading for the exit without another word.
Under the scorching desert sun, a formation of several hundred marines marched steadily across the sands.
"I, Chris T. Aeridar, challenge Vice Admiral Syrons to single combat at 3 PM today in the sandstone flats east of Rainbase."
Seated calmly atop a camel, Vice Admiral Nielmark Syrons stroked his mustache, reading the single-sentence challenge. A knowing smile crept onto his face as he passed it to the officers beside him.
"Take a look, gentlemen. What do you make of this?"
"Ridiculous," scoffed Rear Admiral Zoka, who was also riding a camel. He read the brief message, sneering. "Trying to pull some 'decapitation strike' tactic? How naïve!"
In his eyes, the Chris Pirates were barely seven strong, while the Navy had over four hundred troops, dozens of times more. Why duel? Why not just swarm them and crush them outright?
"...It's not that simple," muttered Commodore Cray, furrowing his brow as he took the paper.
He had once fought Aeridar, and been thoroughly defeated. That memory still burned.
"I met Golden Ring Aeridar back on Little Garden alongside Captain Aron Wazz of G-8. He crushed both of us without even breaking a sweat. But more than his strength, what stuck with me was this, he's no fool. If he's sent a challenge , it's because he has a reason."
Cray's fist clenched at the memory of his humiliating loss.
"Wait, he's that strong?" Zoka asked, alarmed. He'd never heard this story before, and while he outranked Cray, it wasn't by much. If Aeridar could easily defeat Cray...
"He's very strong," Cray said gravely.
"And we're not exactly without weaknesses," he added. "We're under time pressure, if we don't eliminate them by tomorrow noon, we have to pull out. We've been marching hard across the desert. They're well-rested and fortified. And even if we reach Rainbase, we can't engage them directly there. You know why."
"Crocodile won't lift a finger," Zoka grumbled. "He'll just shrug and give us some excuse. If they hole up in Rainbase, we'll be forced to retreat."
"Exactly," Cray nodded. "Sure, we could pretend to accept the duel, then ambush them... but after this grueling desert march, our men are exhausted. In a full-scale fight, how many would survive?"
Vice Admiral Syrons' voice cut in, calm and resolute. "Then I'll take that pirate pup down myself. Once the head falls, the rest will scatter."
His words rang with decades of naval experience.
He knew what this was.
But also an opportunity.
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