Sakazuki shook his head, pushing those thoughts out of his mind. It was still too early. Everything had just begun.
Then he remembered the gift he'd prepared for Carlo.
He turned and walked over to the bookshelf, taking down a long sword wrapped carefully in red cloth. With a faint smile, he held it out. "This is a gift for you."
Carlo accepted the sword and gently ran his hand over the fabric. A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes.
"What a sharp aura… the person who used this sword, were they a great swordsman?"
"More than that, he was also a top-tier Conqueror's Haki user."
"Don't tell me...!" Carlo's eyes widened as a thought struck him.
"Open it and see for yourself," Sakazuki said calmly.
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Carlo eagerly unwrapped the cloth. A look of awe spread across his face as the blade was revealed.
"One of the twenty-one Great Grade Blades... Oto. Golden Lion's weapon."
Rather than a katana, it looked more like a longsword. A double-edged weapon forged with deadly elegance, it had been refined and nurtured over the years through countless battles by Shiki himself. Even left untouched, it still radiated a fierce and violent presence.
Carlo drew the blade from its scabbard and gave it a light swing. With minimal effort, the sword sliced through the air with a piercing sound, and a thin arc of energy shot out, crashing into the nearby furniture.
That alone was enough to show how sharp the weapon was—and how unlucky Shiki had been.
He was a top-tier Conqueror's Haki user, a man powerful enough to split the seas with a single strike. He was the embodiment of overwhelming offense with little defense.
In the Battle of Sgri, he fought alongside Frank and Whitebeard, one weak, the other injured, against three of the Marines' most durable monsters.
His Conqueror's Haki was useless. His sword attacks couldn't break through their defenses. All he could rely on was what little air superiority he had left to stall the battle. By the end of the war, most of his fleet was wiped out.
Just as he barely managed to rebuild, Sakazuki tricked him again. Then Garp and Sengoku attacked head-on and finished the job.
In truth, it was hard not to admire Shiki. His will was unbreakable. From the days of the Rocks Pirates, he carried an ambition and courage to conquer the world. Even in the original story, after twenty years in hiding, he launched a new plan once the plot began. Failure after failure. Setback after setback. None of it ever broke him.
Even with his head wounded and both legs gone. From the moment he first dreamed of conquering the world to the day he died, decades passed, but that goal never changed. Not once.
Shing!
The blade slid smoothly back into its sheath.
Carlo smiled brightly. "Thank you, Vice Admiral."
Sakazuki chuckled. "As long as you like it. Come on. Let's go check on Enel. He's been cooped up for over a month. Probably starting to rust. By the way, what's today's date?"
"February 6th."
Sakazuki gave a nod. "We set sail on the 7th."
Carlo's face instantly dropped. "What?!"
...
The Grand Line, on a small island near Marineford.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion tore through the air.
Garp's warship was docked at the shore, and the marines aboard had gathered along the railing, eyes fixed on the distant figure in awe.
"Hey, this is getting ridiculous."
"How many is that now?"
"That's the sixth one already."
"Seriously, Vice Admiral Garp has way too much energy. He hasn't stopped in four days."
"That's insane!"
Deep within the island, under a half-destroyed mountain, Garp stood with a wide grin on his face, staring at the fractured base of the rock formation.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. He raised his bloodied fist, without any Haki, relying purely on instinct, and drove it forward.
A violent force erupted from his knuckles, ripping through the mountain from the inside.
Boom!
A cylindrical shockwave blasted through the rock, carving a clean path. Light streamed in through the tunnel he'd just created.
Garp roared with laughter. "Bwahahaha, that's it. Just wait, Chinjao. Let's see how I crack that skull of yours."
He was thinking about the pirate he had run into while looking for Sengoku: Don Chinjao, the pillar of the Happo Navy.
In most of Garp's fights, he relied on his monstrous physique and overwhelming Armament Haki to dominate. With his absurd Haki reserves, he never even bothered refining it. Every attack was wide, heavy, and raw.
But Chinjao was different. Despite having less Haki, he used a precise striking technique that focused all his power into one point. Using that, he managed to break through Garp's Armament. He couldn't win because of the Haki gap, but the fight ended without a clear winner.
Still, it left a bad taste in Garp's mouth. So the two proud and stubborn men agreed to meet again in the North Blue for a rematch.
Boom!
Another punch landed. Yet another hole was blasted into the mountain. If one looked closely, this new hole was slightly narrower than the last.
The mountain-shattering training continued.
Behind Garp stood five massive piles of rubble, like small mountains themselves. Each one was placed from far to near, from largest to smallest.
...
West Blue. The sacred land of archaeology—Ohara.
Outside a quiet house far from town, a few young scholars were seeing off a woman doctor who had just helped deliver a baby.
One of them turned to go back inside, but a companion stopped him with a shake of the head. The man let out a soft sigh and stopped. The group sat by the door, pulling out their books as they quietly read and waited.
Inside the house, Nico Olvia lay weakly on the bed, her snow-white hair disheveled. She looked at the newborn baby next to her, whose face bore faint traces of both herself and her late husband.
She didn't know whether bringing this child into the world had been right or wrong. Because what she was about to do... had been declared forbidden by the World Government.
She didn't know what the future would bring, but her husband had died because of this very path. She held no illusions of mercy or miracles. Even so, she couldn't allow her husband's bloodline to disappear.
The expedition team was already forming, and there wasn't much time left. But bringing a child into this was far too cruel.
She stared at the baby who resembled her husband.
"You'll be called Robin. Nico Robin."
She gently rubbed her cheek against the infant's tiny face. Robin, as if sensing the warmth, instinctively pressed her face against her mother in return.
Olvia could no longer hold back her tears. Sobbing, the woman whispered, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."
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