Mary Geoise.
A bubble ship slowly rose from beneath the Red Line, finally coming to a halt at the air harbor of Mary Geoise.
As the ship steadied, a man strode out with long, confident steps.
He wore a black overcoat, loose lavender trousers, and left his solid, muscular chest bare. Upon his head rested a feathered hat, its wide brim casting a shadow that revealed a pair of hawk-like, razor-sharp eyes.
"I've been waiting for you, Dracule Mihawk!"
A government official in a black suit hurried forward, bowing respectfully. "Please, follow me at once."
"Hmph."
Mihawk let out a low grunt. "Then lead the way."
The official guided Mihawk into Pangaea Castle, eventually stopping at a secluded chamber.
Inside, the other Warlords of the Sea had already gathered.
Mihawk gave them only a single glance before losing interest entirely.
Most of these so-called Warlords were nothing more than fillers chosen by the government, their strength hardly worth mentioning.
Not that it was the government's fault—after all, in this era, there were precious few pirates with true power left on the seas.
"Edward Weevil hasn't arrived yet?" Mihawk asked coldly.
In his eyes, aside from himself, the only Warlord with any true strength was that Weevil fellow.
And yet, Weevil was nowhere to be seen.
The government official looked slightly embarrassed and lowered his voice. "That man… refused the government's summons."
The corner of Mihawk's mouth curved ever so slightly.
Heh. A wise man.
Accepting the government's summons to wage war against the Beasts Pirates was anything but a smart move.
More likely, it was a direct path to becoming cannon fodder.
The Beasts Pirates already possessed overwhelming power—and now, they even held control of the devastating weapon known as Dyna Stone.
The government wouldn't care in the slightest about the life or death of a Warlord.
Choosing not to come was the right decision. Even if it meant losing the title of Warlord of the Sea, what of it? Life was far more valuable… wasn't it?
But Mihawk still came.
There was no other reason—only because he wanted to see Ian's strength at this moment.
Ian… let me personally measure the distance between us.
He casually found a corner, sat down, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes to rest.
The other Shichibukai couldn't help but lower their voices.
They were well aware of one thing: although all of them bore the title of Shichibukai, there were clear differences in power.
Compared to the world's greatest swordsman, they really had no standing.
They didn't have to wait long before a man pushed open the door.
"Kept you waiting, scum!"
Wearing a Marine cap, with his beard braided like rope, the Fleet Admiral of the Navy Headquarters, Sengoku the Buddha, raised his voice first, "That bastard Weevil won't be coming. Therefore, he has been removed from the ranks of the Shichibukai!"
Speaking of this, Sengoku felt a bit frustrated.
His sworn brother, Zephyr, had left the Marines in anger, feeling betrayed, all because that bastard Weevil had been made a Shichibukai.
And yet, that dog Weevil gave it up so easily, so quickly.
Didn't that mean Zephyr's departure had been for nothing?
But now was not the time to dwell on such things. There was something far more important to handle.
Sengoku scanned the faces of these government-sanctioned pirates. "I won't waste words. This time, the target is the Beasts Pirates—more precisely, Ian the Skyfire!"
"Be ready, trash. It's time for you to earn your keep!"
Even though he had never truly liked the Shichibukai system, Sengoku had to admit—right now, these people could be put to use.
"When do we move?"
It was Mihawk who spoke. "And how much force has the government prepared?"
"The operation begins immediately."
Sengoku looked at him. Unlike the other Shichibukai, this man's strength was terrifying, a dangerous figure who had to be taken seriously. "As for how much force the government will commit…"
He curled his lips into a thin smile. "You'll find out soon enough."
At almost the same moment, in another room within Pangaea Castle—the office of the Five Elders, the chamber of supreme power—
"This time, we'll be counting on you," one of the Five Elders said, speaking to a certain figure in a tone that could even be called gentle.
"Garling."
The man known as Garling was an elderly figure with an unusually striking hairstyle.
His hair and beard curved together into the shape of a crescent moon. Though he appeared to be just past sixty, his eyes were sharp and full of vitality, his presence commanding and dignified.
With his arms folded, he stood by the window, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose before speaking calmly.
"The God's Knights cannot deploy all of its forces. Half must remain behind to maintain order, otherwise our own people will fall into chaos."
"Your presence alone will be more than enough."
Warcury replied softly, his voice steady. "But to think… this is humiliating. In the eight hundred years of history, the God's Knights have never once taken the initiative to march out."
"That only proves the situation has become dire enough to shake even our rule."
Garling's voice turned cold, his gaze sharp as blades. "It is time to descend divine punishment upon those insolent commoners who dare overreach!"
This man was Figarland Garling—head of the Figarland family, one of the Nineteen Celestial Dragon houses. He was the Supreme Commander of the God's Knights. Among the Celestial Dragons themselves, he was considered a king.
"You're absolutely right!"
One of the Five Elders, Saturn, nodded with grim approval. "This time, we too shall march personally. Ian and his Beast Pirates must not be allowed to grow unchecked any longer."
"Come then, the troops are nearly assembled. It's time to depart!"
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Red Line, at the G-1 Naval Headquarters, a massive warship had already lowered its sails, ready to embark.
Inside one of the lower deck cabins—
Dracule Mihawk sat leisurely in a chair, calmly tending to his beloved black blade.
A faint smile played at his lips.
Though summoned to aid the government as one of the Seven Warlords, Mihawk and the others were confined to the lower decks of the ship.
Without special orders, they were not permitted to leave their designated levels.
The reason was obvious enough. This vessel carried many "distinguished guests."
But more than that, Mihawk could feel it—the ship was brimming with overwhelming presences.
So many, in fact, that if anyone were to face this warship as an enemy, their very scalp would tingle from dread.
Ian, my good friend… I wonder how you'll face this storm?
**********
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