Ron raised his head slightly and looked out at the vast, boundless sky beyond the window.
Sunlight fell across his face, illuminating his deep and determined eyes.
Then he slowly spoke, his voice low and powerful.
"The people receive wages distributed by the Divine Kingdom. That is compensation they earn through labor, allowing them to support their families and live stable lives.
"Merchant ships come and go, bringing goods from various nations. They enrich our lives and allow us to see the vastness and variety of the outside world.
"The children are learning knowledge from across the world. Their eyes shine with hope and longing for the future—"
Ron slowly turned back.
His gaze was sharp, and a trace of edge finally flashed through his eyes.
"This kind of 'enslavement' is a hundred times better than the rule of the Kozuki family, isn't it?"
Yamato opened her mouth, wanting to argue, but discovered she could not say a single word.
Her gaze unconsciously fell upon the busy figures in the streets outside.
What a vivid and lively scene it was.
The faces of the people were filled with long-lost smiles—smiles so real and warm.
This was something that had never existed under Kaido's rule.
"As for the Prophecy…"
Ron gently shook his head, a trace of disdain in his eyes.
"Rather than waiting for some vague and illusory savior, it is better to grasp the real change right before your eyes."
He slowly walked toward the hall doors.
His white robes fluttered behind him in the wind, like a traveler beyond the ordinary world.
"One day, you will understand this."
His voice echoed through the hall, carrying a mysterious force that made it impossible to ignore.
As his footsteps gradually faded away, Yamato remained standing in place.
At some point, the kanabo in her hand had lowered.
She stared blankly at the bright sunlight outside the window.
For the first time, the belief in her heart was deeply shaken, like leaves swept away by a violent wind.
Yamato collapsed onto the ground, her body as though all strength had been drained from it.
She leaned weakly against the floor behind her.
In her mind, Ron's deafening words continued to echo.
Every word was like a heavy hammer, striking again and again at her already crumbling heart.
Her trembling fingers uncontrollably dug deep into her hair, tangled strands twisting between them.
The beliefs she had once held without question were now being shaken as though by a violent earthquake.
Their foundation began to crack, then collapse.
The conviction that had once been as solid as rock was now riddled with holes, leaving only endless confusion and uncertainty.
"He's… right…"
Yamato murmured to herself.
Her voice was terribly hoarse, filled with bitterness and helplessness. It echoed in the silent space, only to be quickly swallowed by endless quiet.
She suddenly remembered the passages in Oden's journal that she had read over and over again.
Those words had once been the guiding light in her heart, illuminating the path forward in the darkness.
Oden, that incredibly towering figure in her heart, had helped Pirate King Roger complete his final voyage.
Across that vast and turbulent sea, Oden had fought side by side with Roger, facing countless hardships and dangers together.
He had been one of Roger's most trusted companions. Their bond had been as strong as steel, enduring wind and rain without decay.
Since that was the case, why had he not asked the Pirate King for help?
A faint spark of hope rose in Yamato's heart.
In her imagination, Roger had been incredibly powerful and majestic.
For him, resolving Wano's crisis should have been no more than a small effort.
With a simple wave of his hand, the problems troubling Wano might have been solved.
His name was like the brightest star in the night sky, inspiring awe and hope.
"And Whitebeard…"
Yamato's nails dug deeply into her palm, drawing thin lines of blood.
The bright red droplets slowly slid down her fingertips and fell onto the ground, a physical reflection of the pain and struggle inside her heart.
Oden had gone to sea aboard Whitebeard's Moby Dick.
That enormous pirate ship carried countless dreams and legends.
On the vast and endless sea, the Moby Dick was like a moving fortress, mighty and imposing.
Oden had treated those legendary pirates like brothers aboard that ship. Together, they had crossed raging storms and faced powerful enemies.
As long as Oden had asked, the Whitebeard Pirates would surely have come in full force.
That fearsome pirate crew possessed unmatched combat strength and unity.
They would have swept through every obstacle like a surging tide, fighting for justice and honor.
Before them, Wano's crisis might not have amounted to much at all.
Perhaps Wano's problem could have been solved with a single Den Den Mushi call.
But reality was that Oden had chosen to believe in an empty prophecy.
Like a ridiculous clown, he had danced naked in the Flower Capital for five years.
Not only had he lost his own life, but his wife had died tragically, his children had been scattered, and all of Wano had fallen into twenty years of darkness.
Light passed through the mottled window lattice, scattering patches of brightness and shadow across the floor.
Yamato stood there quietly. Her once-firm eyes had now become lost and shattered, as though the whole world had collapsed before her.
"So this is… the hero I worshipped?"
Yamato's voice sounded like torn silk, fragmented and broken, filled with indescribable pain and disappointment.
Her empty gaze stared forward, as though trying to find an answer in the void.
But all she saw was endless darkness and despair.
The past twenty years were like a long and absurd dream, flashing through her mind again and again.
Scene after scene appeared before her eyes, so real they felt almost tangible.
Suddenly, she realized with painful clarity that for these twenty years, she had been like a puppet controlled by invisible strings.
Every action, every decision, had been guided by an unseen force as she devoutly carried out the will she had once regarded as sacred.
The image of Oden in her memory had once been so tall and magnificent, like the brightest star in the night sky, lighting her path forward.
Again and again, through the journal, she had painted Oden as a shining figure, turning him into an all-powerful hero.
But now, that once-beautiful image began to collapse like foam.
The man she had worshipped like a god was, in truth, nothing more than a coward through and through.
He had not dared to truly rely on the comrades who had fought beside him.
When they were needed most, he had chosen to avoid them.
Nor had he faced cruel reality directly. Instead, he had buried his head deep in the sands of illusion, hoping to hide from life's storms.