Namor McKenzie In One Piece

The journey through Alabasta was grueling, the desert sun relentless as Namor and Arlong pressed on toward Alubarna. Namor walked ahead, his trident resting casually on his shoulder. Despite the scorching heat, he seemed unbothered, while Arlong lagged slightly behind, his frustration growing.

"This blasted desert," Arlong muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. "Fishmen aren't meant for this kind of heat. How are you not even sweating?"

Namor chuckled dryly. "I've endured worse climates. Atlantis wasn't always the paradise I built it to be."

Arlong grumbled, still irritable. "I'm starting to think this entire island is cursed."

Before long, the towering walls of Alubarna came into view, the royal city standing like a beacon in the barren wasteland. Its sandstone structures shimmered in the heat, the promise of civilization driving the pair forward.

As they approached the city gates, the sound of boots stomping against sand echoed around them. Namor stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing.

From behind the dunes, a group of marines emerged, their uniforms crisp and their rifles gleaming. At their head was a stern-looking captain, his coat billowing in the wind.

"Halt!" the captain barked, pointing his saber at Namor and Arlong. "You're entering Alubarna without clearance. Surrender immediately!"

Namor raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Clearance?" He scoffed. "I need no permission to go where I please."

Arlong snarled, baring his sharp teeth. "You humans have a death wish if you think you can stop us."

The captain frowned, his grip tightening on his saber. "You're wanted criminals. Arlong, a pirate with a hefty bounty on his head, and you..." He glanced at Namor, puzzled. "Whoever you are, you've made quite the stir in the desert. Stand down, or we'll take you by force."

Namor sighed, his patience wearing thin. "I've no time for this."

The marines didn't wait for a response. "Fire!" the captain shouted, and a volley of bullets soared through the air.

Namor moved faster than their eyes could follow. With a flick of his wrist, he spun his trident, deflecting every bullet effortlessly. The clinking sound of metal hitting metal filled the air as the bullets ricocheted harmlessly into the sand.

The marines froze, stunned.

Namor smirked, stepping forward. "Is that the best you've got?"

Arlong took the opportunity to charge, his powerful frame a blur as he slammed into the nearest group of marines. They were sent flying like ragdolls, their cries of pain echoing across the dunes.

The captain gritted his teeth. "Don't falter! Surround them!"

More marines poured in from behind the dunes, their numbers seemingly endless. Namor glanced at them, his expression calm. "This is getting tedious."

With a single leap, Namor soared into the air, his ankle wings propelling him high above the battlefield. The marines gawked, stunned by the sight.

"Devil Fruit powers?" one of them whispered.

Namor's voice boomed from above. "I've no need for your pathetic titles."

He hurled his trident downward, the weapon embedding itself in the ground with a thunderous impact. The shockwave knocked several marines off their feet, sending clouds of sand into the air.

As the marines struggled to regroup, Namor descended, landing gracefully beside his trident. He pulled it from the ground with ease, spinning it once before pointing it at the captain.

"Run," Namor said coldly, his eyes glowing with an intimidating intensity.

The captain hesitated, pride battling with fear. But before he could make a decision, Arlong struck again, his powerful fists smashing into the remaining marines. Their rifles shattered, their formations crumbled.

Within minutes, the battlefield was silent, save for the groans of the defeated. Namor rested his trident on his shoulder, surveying the scene with mild amusement.

"I expected more," he said, turning to Arlong. "Are all human soldiers this weak?"

Arlong snorted, wiping his hands on his coat. "Most of them, yeah. They rely too much on numbers."

Namor nodded thoughtfully. "A flawed strategy."

The captain, bloodied and beaten, struggled to his knees. "You won't... get away with this..."

Namor knelt down, his gaze piercing. "I already have. But if you're so eager to lose more men, feel free to try again."

The captain shuddered, his resolve breaking. He collapsed into the sand, unconscious.

Namor stood and motioned to Arlong. "Come. We've wasted enough time."

As they entered Alubarna, the city's residents whispered among themselves, their eyes filled with fear and curiosity. Namor paid them no mind, his focus on the towering palace in the distance.

Arlong glanced around, his sharp teeth glinting as he grinned. "This place looks like it's ripe for the taking."

Namor smirked. "Let's see what secrets it holds first. Then we'll decide its fate."

The two continued their march, leaving chaos and whispers of their power in their wake.

…

…

The bustling streets of Alubarna were a stark contrast to the barren deserts they had traversed. Merchants called out from their stalls, children darted through the crowds, and townsfolk bustled about their day. Despite the heat, the city seemed alive, its people full of purpose.

Namor and Arlong walked through the main thoroughfare, their presence drawing uneasy glances from the townsfolk. Namor's regal bearing and Arlong's menacing features made them stand out in the crowd. Whispers trailed behind them as they passed, a mixture of fear and curiosity.

Namor, his trident resting against his shoulder, listened intently to the murmurs around him. One particular topic seemed to dominate the conversations.

"The royal family..." he muttered under his breath, his interest piqued.

Arlong raised an eyebrow. "What about them? They're just humans. What do you care?"

Namor shot him a sharp look. "I am a king, Arlong. Rulers intrigue me, no matter their species. There's much to learn from those who hold power in this world."

Arlong snorted but said nothing more, letting Namor take the lead.

Stopping at a fruit stand, Namor placed a firm hand on the counter. The merchant froze, his eyes widening as he took in the intimidating figure before him.

"You," Namor said, his tone commanding but not unkind. "Where can I find the royal family of this city?"

The merchant stammered, his hands trembling as he pointed toward the distant palace. "T-they're in the palace, s-sir. King Cobra and Princess Vivi. But—" He hesitated, his fear plain on his face.

Namor leaned in slightly. "But what?"

"They've been... troubled recently," the merchant continued. "There are rumors of rebellion. People are saying the king has lost control of Alabasta."

Namor's eyes narrowed. "Rebellion, you say?"

The merchant nodded quickly. "Yes. The Baroque Works agents have been stirring unrest, spreading lies about the royal family. Some believe the king is no longer fit to rule."

Namor straightened, his expression unreadable. "Fascinating."

Arlong, leaning lazily against the stand, smirked. "Humans and their petty politics. Always tearing each other apart."

Namor ignored him, turning his gaze toward the palace in the distance. The grand structure loomed over the city, a symbol of authority and power.

"I must meet this king," Namor said, more to himself than anyone else.

The merchant's eyes widened in alarm. "Y-you can't just walk into the palace! The guards won't let you anywhere near it."

Namor chuckled softly. "Let me worry about that."

With that, he turned on his heel and began walking toward the palace, Arlong following close behind.

---

As they made their way through the city, Namor observed the people with a critical eye. The streets were lively, but there was an undercurrent of tension. Groups of men and women huddled in corners, speaking in hushed tones. Soldiers patrolled the streets, their presence a constant reminder of the unrest brewing beneath the surface.

Namor paused at a small square, where a group of townsfolk had gathered. A man stood atop a crate, addressing the crowd with fiery passion.

"The king has abandoned us!" the man shouted, his voice carrying over the din of the marketplace. "We toil under the sun, we bleed for this land, and what does he do? He hides in his palace while Baroque Works tears Alabasta apart!"

The crowd murmured in agreement, their faces grim.

Namor crossed his arms, watching the scene with interest. "It seems this kingdom is on the verge of collapse."

Arlong shrugged. "Sounds like their problem."

Namor shot him a sidelong glance. "A king's problem is always his people's problem, Arlong. And if the people rebel, the king's throne crumbles."

Arlong rolled his eyes. "What are you getting at, Namor? You planning to help this human king?"

Namor smirked. "Help? No. But there's much to be gained from observing how rulers handle crises. Perhaps King Cobra will provide a valuable lesson."

The crowd began to disperse, their anger simmering as they returned to their daily lives. Namor resumed his walk, his thoughts swirling with intrigue.

---

As they approached the palace gates, Namor paused, taking in the structure before him. The grand walls of sandstone stood tall, adorned with intricate carvings and banners bearing the royal insignia. Guards in polished armor stood at attention, their spears crossed to block the entrance.

Namor glanced at Arlong, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Shall we see how welcoming this king truly is?"

Arlong snorted. "This'll be good."

With confidence, Namor strode toward the gates, his regal bearing unmistakable. The guards tensed as he approached, their eyes narrowing.

"Halt!" one of them barked. "State your business."

Namor stopped just short of the spears, his piercing gaze meeting the guard's. "I am Namor D. McKenzie, King of Atlantis. I wish to speak with your ruler, king to king."

The guards exchanged nervous glances, clearly unsettled by his commanding presence.

"King Cobra does not see visitors without prior notice," the lead guard said, his voice firm. "You'll have to leave."

Namor's smile faded, his expression growing cold as the air around them grew denser. "Do you truly think I'm the sort of man who takes no for an answer?"

Arlong chuckled darkly behind him.

The guards shifted uneasily, their grip tightening on their spears.

Namor took a step forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Move aside, or I'll move you myself."

The tension in the air was palpable as the guards considered their options. Finally, the lead guard lowered his spear, stepping aside.

"Very well," he said reluctantly. "But know this—King Cobra will not tolerate threats."

Namor smirked. "Good. I'd hate for him to be a coward."

As the gates creaked open, Namor and Arlong stepped into the palace grounds, their curiosity and determination driving them forward.

…

Sunlight filtered through tall stained-glass windows, casting vibrant patterns on the sandstone floor. Namor and Arlong stepped cautiously, their footsteps echoing ominously as they advanced deeper into the palace.

Namor's sharp eyes scanned every corner, every shadow. Something felt... off.

"They're not very welcoming for a king," Arlong muttered, gripping his saw-like weapon tightly.

Namor smirked, though his expression betrayed his growing suspicion. "Indeed. Let us see how this King Cobra treats his guests."

Suddenly, a loud clamor erupted from all sides. The sound of boots pounding against the marble floor filled the air as dozens of royal guards poured into the hall, their swords drawn and shields raised. They surrounded Namor and Arlong in a well-coordinated formation, their faces grim with resolve.

"It's a trap," Arlong snarled, baring his teeth.

Namor raised a hand to silence him, his eyes narrowing as he studied the men before him. "It seems King Cobra is less hospitable than I hoped."

The lead guard stepped forward, his armor gleaming under the light. "By order of the royal family, you are under arrest for unlawfully entering the palace. Surrender now, or face the consequences."

Namor's lips curled into a predatory grin. "Surrender? Do you know who I am? I bow to no man!"

Before the guard could respond, Namor lunged forward with terrifying speed. His trident sliced through the air with a deadly grace, cleaving through shields and armor as if they were paper. The guards cried out in alarm, their ranks thrown into chaos.

Arlong let out a guttural laugh, joining the fray with unrestrained savagery. His saw-like blade tore through the remaining defenses, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

Namor moved like a force of nature, his movements fluid and precise. He delivered bone-shattering blows with his fists, sending guards flying across the hall. His trident twirled in his hands, each strike perfectly calculated to incapacitate or kill.

The guards' resolve wavered as the floor became slick with their comrades' blood. Some attempted to flee, but Namor's cold voice stopped them in their tracks.

"Cowards have no place in the service of a king," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "Face me, or perish where you stand!"

With one final, devastating blow, Namor and Arlong stood victorious, the hall littered with broken weapons and lifeless bodies.