The room fell into a deathly silence.
Lipo sat on the sofa, even her breathing growing softer, her wide eyes darting nervously between the two men locked in confrontation.
Zephyr stared at Gern without blinking.
He had always known his disciple harbored ambition—but until now, he had believed it was ambition aimed merely at reaching the summit.
Only at this moment did he truly understand the scale of it.
The vast, suffocating magnitude of the "West Blue soldier" he had once personally chosen and nurtured.
Gern did not merely want authority.
He intended to reconstruct the entire structure of the Marines.
And more importantly—this was no longer a request.
It was… a declaration.
Zephyr met Gern's unwavering gaze and knew there was no turning it aside.
He exhaled deeply and staggered half a step back. His head lowered, eyes fixed on the floor for a long moment.
Then he raised it again and looked at Gern—long and searching.
"You understand… that if you fail—"
The words stopped short.
Because he knew.
Any warning would be meaningless before someone who had already calculated every step.
In the end, he waved a tired hand.
"Forget it… I'm just an old relic who's already retired. I can't move you."
"And besides… you were never the type to gamble on something without certainty."
"As for Ain…" His voice sharpened slightly. "Tesoro has probably already gone to 'make contact,' hasn't he?"
"You didn't come here to ask my permission. You came to inform me. That's all. Isn't it?"
Gern did not answer.
He did not say yes.
He did not say no.
Silence itself was the clearest response.
Instead of explaining or making promises, he acted.
Gern slowly reached into the pocket at his waist and pulled out a small bottle of liquor. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it precisely toward Zephyr.
Zephyr caught it instinctively. The familiar weight in his palm made him pause.
It was his favorite brand.
Gern's gaze rested briefly on Zephyr's hand gripping the bottle.
"Zephyr-sensei. Ever since the day I was defeated by Roger… and fell into the sea…"
His voice was steady.
"I swore an oath."
"I, Gern Reginald Sigmar…"
"…will never lose again."
When the words fell, he did not linger.
He turned decisively, the hem of his Admiral's coat carving a sharp arc through the air.
Lipo hopped down from the sofa, waved cheerfully to Zephyr, and skipped after Gern.
After they left, Zephyr remained alone in the quiet room, gripping the bottle tightly.
At last, he twisted the cap open and tilted his head back, taking a long, fierce swallow.
"Idiot disciple… I believe in you too."
"…I'm just worried about you."
...
In the days that followed, the shadow of war over Marineford grew heavier with each passing hour.
Under the compulsory summons of the World Government, the members of the Seven Warlords of the Sea began arriving one after another.
Among them, "Knight of the Sea" Jinbe refused to fight against the Whitebeard Pirates, with whom he held deep ties.
He reiterated Fish-Man Island's stance of non-participation in human conflicts and openly rejected the summons.
As a result, he was stripped of his title and imprisoned.
"Pirate Empress" Boa Hancock outwardly accepted the call—but secretly smuggled Straw Hat Luffy under her protection.
Using her Warlord privileges as cover, she infiltrated the iron fortress of Impel Down, setting the stage for what would become Luffy's so-called grand adventure within the undersea prison.
In the end, the Warlords who actually arrived at Marineford prepared for battle numbered only three:
"Heavenly Yaksha" Donquixote Doflamingo.
"Moonlight" Moria.
And the man who had ignited the fuse of this entire catastrophe—
"Blackbeard," Marshall D. Teach.
Counting even the ambiguously positioned Hancock, only four nominal Warlords stood present.
Such a thin lineup of "top-tier combatants" was clearly insufficient for Sengoku's defensive formation.
Thus, a special order arrived in Gern's hands.
Sengoku hoped Douglas Bullet could temporarily fill the Warlord position and appear among the execution's frontline ranks.
...…
Marineford — Main Streets.
At that moment, Gern was walking toward the conference hall with Bullet and Lipo.
"It seems our esteemed Fleet Admiral Sengoku wants me to help him put on a good show," Gern remarked casually, his tone unreadable.
"Gern, Gern," Lipo asked curiously from where she sat on Bullet's broad shoulder, swinging her legs, "will Hancock be at the meeting too?"
"Hancock?" Gern let out a faint chuckle. "She definitely won't."
"If she were obediently sitting here right now, then the course of events would—"
Before he could finish, a hurried figure burst out from a side corridor, head lowered, moving too fast—
And collided squarely into Gern's side.
Bang!
"Ow!"
"Koby! Hurry up! They still need us to help move supplies over there—!"
A Marine sergeant with a blond ponytail, futuristic goggles, white shirt, and green vest came jogging up, calling out.
But when he saw who had been struck—
The iconic white Admiral's coat.
The unmistakable face.
He froze as if struck by lightning.
His body snapped rigid, and he saluted with all his strength.
"Ma—Marine Sergeant Helmeppo! Reporting to Admiral Gern, sir!!"
The young Marine who had fallen—Koby—scrambled to his feet, face pale. Without even dusting himself off, he snapped into a trembling salute as well.
Gern's eyes lingered on the two briefly.
He frowned slightly but did not reprimand them further.
They were insignificant for now.
"Be more careful next time."
With that, he stepped past them, continuing toward the conference hall with Bullet and Lipo.
Koby and Helmeppo held their salutes until the three figures disappeared at the end of the corridor. Only then did they lower their hands and exchange a look.
"Whew! That scared me to death!" Helmeppo exhaled, then suddenly grabbed Koby's shoulder, his face flushing with excitement.
"Hey! Koby! Did you see that?! That was a living legend!"
"'Heavenquake' Admiral Gern! I can't believe he's actually here at Marineford!"
"With him guarding the battlefield, this war is totally in the bag!"
In sharp contrast, Koby showed none of the same fervor.
He rubbed his sore shoulder thoughtfully, his expression oddly calm.
"I'm Vice Admiral Garp's disciple too…"
He muttered softly, as if searching for something that distinguished him.
"He should have recognized me just now, right?"
"Koby, what are you even thinking?!" Helmeppo rolled his eyes.
"By your logic, Zephyr trained half the Marines! There are four Admirals among his students! You think Admiral Gern remembers every one of them?"
"It's different." Koby shook his head stubbornly.
"Vice Admiral Garp has very few disciples. As far as I know… only Admiral Gern, Admiral Kuzan… and me."
He clung to that thin thread of "shared mentorship," trying to shorten the impossible distance between himself and that towering mountain.
"Hey!" Helmeppo pointed at himself indignantly. "What about me? I'm not a person? Didn't Mr. Garp train me too?"
"That's not the same—"
"Enough, enough!" Helmeppo cut him off. "Stop polishing your own halo! We still have supplies to move!"
He shoved Koby forward.
But as Koby was pushed along, he clenched his fist, a stubborn light flashing in his eyes.
He muttered under his breath—half encouragement, half declaration.
"Heh… I believe that one day, I'll surpass Admiral Gern."
"After all, when he joined the Marines, he was just a menial recruit in some West Blue branch during his second year."
"And I'm already a sergeant at Marine Headquarters."
Helmeppo nearly tripped over his own feet when he heard that.
He turned slowly, looking at Koby as though staring at a fool.
"Koby… did you forget something?"
"That 'West Blue branch errand boy' you're talking about—"
"Three years after joining the Marines…"
"He personally cut down 'Golden Lion' Shiki at the peak of his power!!!"
Koby blurted out, "I'll work two hundred times harder than anyone else!!!"
"Heh."
Helmeppo's cold laugh snapped the fragile fantasy like a twig.
Koby opened his mouth, then closed it again.
The light in his eyes dimmed just slightly.
Silently, he followed Helmeppo down the street.
From the distant end of the road, the clamor of war preparations echoed louder and louder.
A reminder.
Right now, the most important thing was surviving.
Not chasing distant, unreachable dreams.