Chapter 110: The Drum Kingdom

Three days later, on the shore of Sauron Island.

Under Colonel Rolan’s orders, the marines steered Kidd’s pirate ship close to the original harbor, then dismantled the mast and set the vessel ablaze.

Amidst the roaring flames, the residents of Sauron Island, now recovered, wept bitterly—some with sorrow, others with relief.

For them, the disaster had struck in an instant.

Perhaps not long before, they were still asleep at home or cooking meals, when suddenly a cannonball exploded nearby, followed by heart-wrenching screams and cries that echoed across the sky.

The firelight was the same as it had been just over ten days ago, but then it had consumed everything they owned.

Now, however, justice had been served.

Besides seeing Kidd’s ship burning, they witnessed the marines carrying the ship’s mast to the dock and erecting it firmly.

On the pirate flag fluttering in the wind, the once-blue skull with gears was now crossed out in red, painted with Kidd’s blood—a stark and ominous warning.

But that was not all.

Beneath the pirate flag on the mast hung a body with bright red hair—Kidd himself.

The townsfolk, gazing at the corpse, felt nothing but deep-seated hatred. They showed no sympathy, only a sense that he deserved this fate.

After the marines finished their work, the townspeople approached Colonel Rolan and knelt, bowing their heads in gratitude.

They did not blame the marines for arriving late; such a catastrophe was unforeseeable by anyone.

But they thanked Rolan for his handling of the matter: the entire crew of pirates was dead, the henchmen thrown into the sea to feed the fish, and the captain—hanged here to accompany the souls lost in this place.

Rolan had not expected such a reaction, but he was quick to respond.

The moment the townsfolk knelt, he stepped forward and helped each person to their feet.

He understood their gratitude but felt undeserving of it.

“Colonel Rolan, the survivor that Major Penggris rescued—he seems to be on the verge of death,” a ship’s doctor suddenly reported from the deck, his face grim.

“What are you saying?” Rolan’s tone darkened as he strode over, no longer paying attention to the townsfolk.

“We’ve done everything we can. From the moment he was rescued, we’ve been using all possible methods to keep him alive while trying to restore his health.”

“He was stable just a few days ago, but ever since others declared Kidd dead, his bodily functions have rapidly deteriorated.”

“We suspect that given his condition, he’s been holding on only to hear that news.”

“Now that Kidd is dead and justice served, he feels he can finally rest in peace…”

As the doctor spoke, Rolan’s expression grew increasingly severe until a heavy pressure emanated from him, silencing the doctor instantly.

The doctor now understood what kind of opponent Colonel Rolan’s enemies faced.

Even if Rolan did nothing but stare him down, the doctor found it unbearable.

It hadn’t been long, yet he was already struggling to breathe, sweat soaking his clothes.

With a heavy sigh, Rolan withdrew his imposing aura, glanced at the pale-faced doctor, muttered an apology, and walked alone toward his quarters.

He admitted to having been impulsive upon hearing the news, but the emotions were genuine.

He had issued a death-defying order to save those people at any cost—yet this was the outcome.

After the doctor’s explanation, Rolan realized it was not the medical team’s fault; the survivor had already resigned himself to death.

No matter how skilled the doctors, life cannot be preserved without the patient’s will to live.

On deck, the remaining survivors exchanged glances before gathering around the doctor to comfort him.

“Doctor, Colonel Rolan was just anxious; please don’t take it to heart.”

“Yes, doctor. We all understand Johnny’s condition. For him to hold on this long is remarkable. It’s not your fault.”

“Doctor…”

Their words touched the doctor deeply, but each one only added to his guilt.

If they had scolded him, perhaps he could have borne it better—like Colonel Rolan’s rebuke.

He was among Rolan’s earliest subordinates and had shared the ordeal in the Calm Belt.

He knew well what kind of man Rolan was.

Whether protecting his own life or that of his marines, the battle against Vice Admiral Tochi had been witnessed firsthand.

So even when Rolan reprimanded him, he bore it without resentment, feeling only that his efforts were insufficient.

After all, if Rolan, a colonel, could defeat a vice admiral of headquarters, then these doctors, confined by their academic limits, should at least be able to save one man.

If only his medical skills were more advanced.

With that thought, the doctor stood lost in guilt until an idea suddenly struck him.

Wait—if his skills weren’t enough, then why not seek out someone with greater expertise?

But such talent was hard to find here.

Although the Holy Land of Mariejois near Marineford housed the world’s top medical teams, they served only the Celestial Dragons—the self-proclaimed creators and aristocrats of the world government—and high-ranking officials.

Aside from Mariejois, the only other place with top-tier doctors was the Drum Kingdom on Drum Island, renowned for its medical prowess.

If they could reach Drum Island, perhaps Johnny still had a chance.

Excited by this possibility, the doctor hurried toward Rolan’s room.

“So, what you’re saying is that we’re doing everything we can to keep the survivor alive, then heading to the Drum Kingdom to seek medical aid—is that right?” Rolan’s eyes brightened as he sat at his desk, clearly pleased.

“Yes, Colonel Rolan. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Drum Kingdom’s reputation. Once there, Johnny can be saved.”

“Although our skills can’t fully restore him, we can at least keep him alive, reduce his suffering, and help him endure until we reach Drum Kingdom,” the doctor explained.

Rolan nodded without objection. He had nearly forgotten about the Drum Kingdom himself.

The current problem, however, was that due to the rushed mission, they carried only permanent navigational pointers for Judicial Island and Sauron Island, along with some record pointers—but none for Drum Island.

Therefore, to reach Drum Island, they would have to follow the established sea routes, traveling slowly.

This would inevitably take time.

Could Johnny really hold on that long?

Rolan did not doubt the doctors’ abilities, but Johnny’s condition was dire.

Coupled with his lack of will to survive, whether he could endure the journey remained uncertain.