Ten Years Before the God Valley Incident — Holy Land of Mary Geoise
Inside the pristine halls of the Holy Land's hospital, Saint Garling Figarland—Supreme Commander of the God's Knights—paced anxiously along the corridor. This man, hailed as one of the strongest warriors alive and a paragon of nobility, now looked more like a worried husband than a decorated soldier.
Despite his reputation, at this moment, Garling wasn't the feared and dignified commander of an elite order touched by divine grace. He was simply a man, concerned for his beloved wife and their unborn child.
Saint Maria de Van Astrea, firstborn of the prestigious House of Astrea, rested within the delivery room. Her lineage traced back to the earliest supporters of the World Government, a family known for birthing legendary swordsmen and women even before the Government's founding. Maria, hailed as the Sword Saint, was a legend in her own right. Her grace with a blade surpassed all others—even Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, one of the Five Elders and wielder of the strongest Kitetsu blade, acknowledged her as the greatest swordmaster in over eight hundred years.
A small but genuine smile touched Garling's lips at the thought of her. Yes, he had concubines—mainly for political and stress-relief reasons—but his heart belonged solely to Maria.
With his Advanced Observation Haki, Garling foresaw the moment a nurse would exit the room with joyful news. He blinked, and right on cue, the door opened. A nurse stepped out with a radiant smile and bowed her head respectfully.
"My Lord, the delivery was successful. Both Lady Maria and the child are safe and healthy."
He nodded silently, relief flooding him. Only after she left did he realize he had been holding his breath.
After a few more moments, he entered the room. There she was—Maria, radiant even in exhaustion. Her long golden hair fanned across the pillows, and her equally golden eyes locked onto his as soon as he stepped in. She smiled warmly.
"Come here, dear. Someone wants to meet you."
Garling approached her quietly, his footsteps steady and full of purpose. He reached her bedside and saw the small bundle cradled in her arms. With care, she repositioned it to reveal the child—their son.
Wrapped in soft white cloth, the baby had wisps of golden hair like his mother. Garling gently took him into his arms, eyes widening as the newborn slowly opened his own.
And then time seemed to freeze.
Those eyes—bright, golden, glowing like twin suns—stared back at them, piercing and pure, as if they could see straight into the soul.
"He's so beautiful," Maria whispered, love and pride shining in her voice.
"Indeed he is," Garling replied, a wide smile spreading across his face. "After all, he's our son."
Maria giggled softly, then placed her hand over her husband's.
"So, dear… what should we name our little 'Sun'?"
Garling looked down at the boy once more. After a few seconds of thought, he answered with certainty.
"Robert. Robert Van Figarland."
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The birth of Saint Robert Van Figarland spread swiftly across the Holy Land. A grand banquet was soon held in his honour. Nobles from every corner of power gathered, eager to glimpse the future Commander of the God's Knights.
Even the Five Elders graced the occasion with their presence.
Inside the lively banquet hall, music played, and nobles mingled. Maria sat at a table, holding Robert gently while chatting with family and friends. Not far off, Garling was conversing with fellow God Knights when a quiet hush fell over the nearby crowd.
Then the Five Elders arrived. Saint Topman Warcury, bald and clad in a formal suit, stepped forward.
"Commander Garling," he said, "may we have a moment of your time?"
Garling raised an eyebrow but nodded, following them into a private chamber.
Once inside, the Elders took their seats. Saint Jaygarcia Saturn, hunched over a cane with a long scar across his eye, spoke first.
"We all know why we're here. Let's not waste time."
Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, a tall, dark-skinned man, nodded.
"Indeed. As you are aware, it is our tradition that any child born into the elite bloodlines must first be baptized by our Immortal Lord and receive Their blessing."
Garling nodded. It was a sacred ritual, known only to those within the highest echelons of power. Saint Marcus Mars, long-haired and moustached, continued.
"Very well. After the banquet, meet us outside the throne room." With that, the Elders left. Garling returned to Maria to inform her of the plan.
Later that evening, with the banquet concluded and guests gone, the Figarland family approached the towering gates of Pangaea Castle's throne room. The Five Elders, who had arrived minutes earlier, nodded and opened the great doors.
The Figarlands entered and immediately knelt.
Heavy footsteps echoed.
A cloaked figure—tall, imposing, wearing a long crown—entered the throne room. Slowly, they climbed the stairs and reached the Empty Throne. Tracing their gloved fingers across its cold surface, they finally sat.
"You may rise," said the figure, voice raspy and uneven.
The Elders and the Figarlands stood.
"Maria de Van Astrea," the Immortal Lord said. "Come. Let me see your son."
Maria ascended the steps and gently presented the child.
"My Lord," she murmured.
The figure took the baby and lifted him to eye level. Red-circled pupils met golden suns. They stared in silence. Then, the Lord nodded.
"This child is strong. I see no fear in him. He will be a great asset. I can see it clearly—he will reshape the world itself."
Joy and pride surged in the hearts of both parents. The Elders nodded in solemn approval.
"Now," the Lord said, "let the ritual begin."
Unwrapping the child, the figure placed a finger on Robert's chest. A small wound opened, blood dripping from the centre of his heart. Using that blood, the Lord drew a glowing pentagram on the child's abdomen. Then, they pricked their own finger, mixing their blood into the sigil and completing it with a star inside.
The symbol glowed a deep, eerie red—then vanished. The wound closed without a trace. In its place, a small cross-shaped mark appeared on Robert's right arm.
The ritual was complete.
Robert Van Figarland was now marked by the Abyss.
.
.
.
.
After the ceremony, the Elders and the Figarlands remained to discuss future military directives. Once that was done, the Immortal Lord departed the throne room, leaving the others behind.
"Well then, Commander Garling," said Saint Ju Peter, "it seems our Lord has foreseen a great future for your son."
The others nodded in agreement.
"We look forward to hearing great things about young Figarland."
With that, the Elders exited the hall.
Maria cradled Robert again, rubbing her nose gently against his.
"My precious… You're going to be the greatest in the whole world."
Garling smiled, took her hand, and together they left the throne room.
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Deep within the Chamber of Flowers at Pangaea Castle, the Immortal Lord moved silently through their private garden. They entered a hidden vault, a chamber filled with artifacts gathered over the centuries—swords, ancient tomes, rare Devil Fruits, and priceless treasures.
But among all these, one collection stood out: rows upon rows of vials—each filled with blood.
The blood of the Five Elders. The God Knights. Noble elites.
Collected, preserved, archived… for backup. For control. For power.
And now, a new vial joined the collection.
The blood of Robert Van Figarland.