Chapter 133: The Flames Beneath the Sand
The desert wind howled with urgency.
Like a storm rising from the earth itself, the Rebel Army advanced with thunderous purpose, their countless feet stamping trails into the sands as they charged toward the capital.
Koza rode at the forefront, his cape billowing like a banner behind him. His eyes, fierce and determined, were fixed on the shimmering horizon where Alubarna waited, its domes like pale mirages in the distance. The sun blazed high above, casting fire onto the sea of men and women surging behind him.
"Don't slow down!" he roared over the roar of motion. "We cannot give the king time to set another trap! If we take Alubarna, we take back our future!"
Cheers rose from the masses. Soldiers, peasants, former guards, tradesmen with rusted swords, all crying out for justice, vengeance, salvation. In their minds, this was the day they would reclaim their country from tyranny.
None of them knew the truth.
None of them knew the invisible hand of Baroque Works, nor the grinning shadow of Crocodile pulling their strings.
They believed they were saving Alabasta from a cruel monarch. They believed they were free.
Koza's brow tightened. 'Father... forgive me. If you had only listened...'
Meanwhile, within the capital of Alubarna, the air was thick with tension. The city had already begun evacuation, the streets clearing with frightened citizens guided by the king's guard. The wails of children, the barking of camels, and the thundering hooves of soldiers echoed off the stone walls.
High above the gates, Chaka, the loyal guardian of the king, stood dressed in his traditional jackal armor, his long hair trailing in the wind. His sharp eyes peered out over the desert.
"The rebels are coming," he muttered, his voice a low growl. "But this isn't the battle they think it is…"
Behind him, ranks of the Royal Army formed up, shields raised, swords drawn, silent and resolute. They did not cheer. They did not cry out. They knew their duty. They knew the city must not fall.
Chaka's grip tightened around the hilt of his blade.
'Come, Koza… Come see what truth awaits you inside these walls.'
Just beyond the outer gates of Alubarna, hidden in the sandstone valleys that framed the city's approach, six cloaked figures came into view, each astride a Super Spot-Billed Duck, feathers glinting with sweat, feet pounding the sands like thunder.
Dust swirled behind them in a great arc, marking their high-speed approach.
From the shadows atop a stone ledge, the elite agents of Baroque Works lay in wait.
Miss Doublefinger, arms crossed, was the first to speak. "They're here… but something's wrong."
"They're all wearing cloaks," Mr. 1 said, narrowing his eyes. "We can't tell which one is the princess."
"That's the idea," hissed Miss Merry Christmas, adjusting her spectacles. "It's a decoy formation. A trick."
"What do we do?" asked Mr. 4, slow as ever, his dog Lassoo panting beside him, a fuse twitching at the end of its nose.
"Simple," said Mr. 2 Bon Clay, leaping into the open with a pirouette. "We catch all of them!"
"Idiot!" Miss Doublefinger snapped. "We don't have time for a full chase, Koza's army will arrive any minute!"
"Then we split up," Mr. 1 replied coolly, already stepping down into the sands. "One rider each. Bring them down. Drag them back. We'll find the girl… eventually."
The other agents exchanged glances, grim nods exchanged in silence.
With no time to argue and no clear target, they mounted up, leaping from their lookout points and scattering into the dunes. Their pursuit began—like vultures descending upon fleeing prey.
The six cloaked riders didn't stop. Didn't look back. Their ducks ran faster, almost as if sensing the danger gaining behind them.
The trap had been sprung.
And the true chaos of Alabasta was about to begin.
In the chaos of the charging rebel army and the rapid pursuit of the cloaked decoys, no one noticed the single figure crouched low behind a jagged sandstone outcrop near the canyon pass.
Vivi, cloaked in dust and silence, held her breath as she pressed her back against the warm stone.
She could hear the thunder of hooves, no, feet. Tens of thousands of feet. The Rebel Army, a monstrous tide of determination, was only moments away. She clenched her fists against her chest.
'I have to stop them. I have to make them hear me…'
Far ahead, the decoys were already drawing the attention of the Baroque Works officers. It was working. Her friends were risking everything to buy her time.
"This is my chance," Vivi whispered, rising slowly.
She stepped into the open, waving her arms wildly as the first line of rebels began to crest the hill.
"Koza! Stop!! Please stop!! You're being manipulated!"
But her voice was swallowed by the earth-shaking rhythm of the charge.
At that very moment, a massive dust cloud burst up from the flank of the canyon, an explosive detonation planted deliberately by one of Crocodile's undercover agents hidden within the royal army. The fine golden sand rose like smoke, sweeping across the battlefield, blinding the Rebel Army and severing their line of sight.
Vivi choked on the grit. "No—no!"
The rebels couldn't see her.
They couldn't hear her.
The roaring tide came anyway.
A voice quacked from beside her.
Karoo threw himself forward, shielding her body with his own just before the trampling horde could reach her position. Sand sprayed. Feet slammed down dangerously close. But Karoo held his ground, his body trembling, wings spread wide.
Vivi blacked out.
When she awoke, the ground had stopped shaking.
The dust had begun to settle into a fine mist across the lower hills. Sunlight broke through the veil of sand, revealing distant shadows still rushing toward Alubarna. But she was alive. And Karoo…
"…Karoo…?" she murmured, sitting up weakly.
The faithful duck let out a relieved quack and nuzzled her cheek.
"Vivi! You're awake!"
She turned to the sound of Usopp's voice, grateful to see his face, eyes wide, nose longer than ever, goggles askew.
"We were so worried," he said, panting. "I tried to follow you, but everything was chaos. I—I caught up to you as fast as I could."
She blinked. Something felt… off.
"Usopp…?" she narrowed her eyes. "Show me the mark."
"…Huh?"
"Our mark. Under your cloth. Show me."
The hesitation was a second too long.
"…Ahahaha, of course! Let me just, uh, look, I dropped my bandana when I was,"
"You're not Usopp."
The man's grin faltered. In a blink, he dropped the voice and twirled in the air, spinning into a flamboyant pose.
"Bon Clay, the magnificent!"
"Mr. 2…!!" Vivi gasped, already scrambling to mount Karoo.
"I do hate goodbyes, but I really must insist you stay put, princess!" he declared, rushing toward her.
But Karoo took off like a bullet, flapping his wings and galloping up the steep canyon wall with Vivi clinging tightly to his reins.
"Go, Karoo! Head for the palace!!"
"QUAAACK!!!"
Mr. 2 gave chase, bounding up the rock after them in great leaps, his ballet slippers kicking off dust with every graceful stride.
"You can run, dear Vivi! But you'll never outdance me!"
But just as he leapt for a final time...
"Would you kindly keep your hands off the ladies?"
A polished shoe slammed into Mr. 2's chin from the side, sending him spinning midair.
Sanji, cigarette lit and coat flaring behind him, landed with feline grace on the rocks.
"Yo," he said casually. "You forgot the part where she wasn't interested."
Mr. 2 crashed down the slope with a surprised shriek, bouncing twice before recovering into a dramatic handstand pose.
"Well, well," he grinned. "A duel of dashing men, is it?"
Sanji pulled the cigarette from his lips and crushed it under his heel.
"Your fancy footwork's over. I'll be your dance partner now."
Above them, Vivi and Karoo scaled the last ridge and vanished toward the palace gates.