The feast continued well into the night.
Laughter echoed between the tables as stories about Whitebeard became increasingly exaggerated with every cup of sake.
Jozu sat among the others, but his attention had gradually drifted away from the celebration.
His eyes settled on Marco.
The First Division Commander was sitting quietly with a cup in his hand, watching his brothers laugh around him.
Jozu waited until the noise around them grew loud enough to conceal their conversation.
Then he leaned closer.
"Marco."
"What is it?" Marco glanced at him.
Jozu lowered his voice.
"What are we going to do now?"
Marco's expression changed slightly.
Jozu continued.
"It's not just Marineford anymore." He placed his cup on the table. "Reports keep coming in. More and more islands under Pops' protection are being attacked."
"Pirates." Marco's gaze hardened.
Vista's jaw tightened.
"Which islands?"
Marco looked toward one of the men standing near the edge of the table. The pirate immediately stepped forward and unfolded a worn sheet of paper.
"Three confirmed attacks so far," he reported. "One was on an island near the New World's central route. Another was attacked by a group of pirates who arrived less than a day after news of Pops' death spread."
He hesitated.
"And there's a third."
"What happened?" Marco's expression hardened.
"They drove out the local guards."
Jozu's fist tightened against the table.
"Damn it."
The pirate continued.
"They raised their own flag and told the people that Whitebeard was dead, so his protection was over."
Vista, who had been listening nearby, suddenly stopped with his glass halfway to his lips.
"They said that?"
The pirate nodded.
"They're not the only ones. We've received similar reports from several ports. Some crews are testing the waters. Others are already claiming territory."
Vista slowly lowered the glass in his hand.
"They're not even giving Pops time to be buried."
Nobody answered.
Marco glanced toward the map again.
That was the problem.
This wasn't one enemy.
It wasn't even one war.
It was an entire sea realizing that the strongest man who had kept it in balance was gone.
And every ambitious pirate was rushing to see how much they could take before someone stopped them.
"They're taking advantage of the situation." Vista's jaw tightened. "Some of them aren't even bothering to hide it. They're tearing down Pops' flag, planting their own, and claiming the islands as if they were abandoned territory."
Marco remained silent.
Jozu's eyes shifted toward the Whitebeard flag fluttering near the grave.
"For decades, nobody dared touch those islands." His voice became heavier. "Now that Pops is gone, everyone thinks they're free to take whatever they want."
"How many?" Marco slowly lowered his cup.
"Can't count them on one hand." Jozu exhaled. "And we're getting more reports every day."
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Around them, the feast continued.
Someone shouted another toast.
A burst of laughter followed.
But beyond this island, the world was already tearing apart what Whitebeard had left behind.
Marco looked toward Ace.
Ace was laughing with Luffy and Sabo, surrounded by several of the others.
He looked happy.
For a moment, Marco allowed himself to watch.
Then his expression became serious again.
"We can't protect all of them."
"That doesn't sound like you." Jozu's eyes narrowed.
"It's the truth." Marco leaned back.
"Pops held territory across the New World because everyone knew what would happen if someone attacked it." He looked down at his hands. "We don't have his strength."
Vista and Jozu remained silent.
"And even if we gathered every surviving division commander and split ourselves across those islands..." Marco continued, "we'd still be stretched too thin."
"So we just abandon them?" Jozu's fist slowly tightened.
"No."
Marco answered immediately.
Jozu looked at him.
Marco's eyes were firm.
"We don't abandon them." He glanced toward the grave. "But we need to be realistic about what we can protect."
"Then what do you suggest?" Vista frowned.
Marco didn't answer immediately.
His eyes moved across the gathering.
Ace.
Blamenco.
Rokuyo.
Namur.
And all the surviving commanders.
Their brothers.
All of them were exhausted.
They had lost too many people.
And yet the world was already demanding that they carry Whitebeard's legacy as though nothing had changed.
"We need time," Marco finally said.
"Time?"
"To recover. To rebuild. To decide what comes next."
"And the islands?" Jozu stared at him.
"That is the problem." Marco's expression darkened.
A shadow fell across the table.
Neither of them noticed Arthur approaching until his voice came from behind them.
"You're trying to solve a problem with a force you no longer possess."
Marco and Jozu turned.
Arthur stood there holding a cup of sake.
Jozu raised an eyebrow.
"How long have you been listening?"
"Long enough." Arthur pulled up a chair.
"You heard everything." Marco sighed.
"I did."
Arthur looked toward the grave.
Then toward the Whitebeard flag.
"Whitebeard's name still protects those islands in the hearts of the people." He paused. "But a name alone can't stop a cannon."
"Exactly." Jozu's expression hardened.
Arthur took a sip of sake. "Then don't try to replace Whitebeard."
"What do you mean?" Marco looked at him.
Arthur's gaze shifted toward the distant sea.
"You don't need to become another Emperor to protect what he left behind."
The two commanders remained silent.
Arthur continued.
"You only need to make every pirate who targets those islands think twice before attacking."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Jozu frowned.
"I have an idea." Arthur's eyes settled on him.
"What kind of idea?" Marco studied him carefully.
Arthur gave a faint smile.
Before either of them could continue, a familiar voice came from behind Arthur.
"What idea are you two talking about?"
Arthur turned.
Ace stood there with a plate in one hand and a cup of sake in the other.
A piece of meat was still clenched between his teeth.
"How long have you been standing there?" Jozu stared at him.
Ace swallowed.
"Since Marco said we don't have Pop's strength."
"We weren't supposed to be talking about this tonight." Marco sighed.
Ace pulled over an empty chair and sat beside them.
"Then you shouldn't have been talking so seriously in the middle of a party."
"This isn't a party." Jozu gave him a tired look.
Ace glanced at the tables around them.
His brothers were laughing, drinking, and arguing over who had eaten the most.
"It looks like one to me."
Marco's expression softened for a moment.
Then Ace's smile faded.
"What happened?"
"The islands under Pops' protection are being attacked." Jozu looked toward the grave.
Ace's hand stopped halfway to his plate.
"Already?"
It was the first time Ace had heard about it.
He had spent the entire journey aboard the ship resting and recovering from his injuries. The others had deliberately kept the reports away from him. Tonight, he was finally laughing again, surrounded by Luffy, Sabo, and several of his brothers.
"It's been happening since Marineford," Jozu replied. "The reports are getting worse."
Ace lowered his gaze.
"They're tearing down Pops' flag?" His fingers tightened around the cup.
Jozu nodded.
Ace's expression darkened. "They think he's gone, so they believe everything he protected now belongs to no one."
"Ace, we can't rush into every battle." Marco watched him carefully.
"Why not?" Ace looked at him.
"Because that's exactly what they want." Marco leaned forward. "We're wounded. Our forces are scattered. If we charge into every conflict, we'll lose more people before we even have a chance to recover."
Ace remained silent.
His eyes moved toward the Whitebeard flag.
For a moment, the sounds of the feast seemed distant.
Then Arthur spoke.
"Marco is right."
Ace turned toward him.
Arthur met his gaze calmly.
"But that doesn't mean we do nothing."
"You said you had an idea." Ace narrowed his eyes.
Arthur nodded.
"One that doesn't require the Whitebeard Pirates to fall under another Emperor."
Ace leaned closer. "What kind of idea?"
Arthur looked at the three men around the table.
"Whitebeard's territories are too vast for one crew to defend now."
"So we need allies." Jozu crossed his arms.
"Not just allies," Arthur said. "A warning."
Ace frowned.
"A warning?"
"Every pirate attacking those islands needs to understand that Whitebeard's death did not make them defenseless."
Marco studied Arthur.
"You want to create a force that protects the islands without taking them from the Whitebeard Pirates."
"Exactly."
Ace's eyes sharpened. "And who would lead this force?"
"That depends on what you want." Arthur's gaze shifted toward him.
Ace blinked.
"What I want?"
"You're the son of the man whose name still carries the most weight among those islands."
Ace's expression became complicated.
"I'm not Pops."
"No," Arthur replied.
"You're not." He looked toward Whitebeard's grave. "But you are one of the people he chose to call his son."
Ace lowered his head.
The words struck deeper than he expected.
Marco placed a hand on Ace's shoulder.
"You don't have to carry Pops' name alone."
Ace looked at him.
"I know." His eyes returned to the grave. "But I can't just sit here while people destroy everything he protected."
"That's what I've been saying." Jozu's fist tightened.
Marco exhaled. "We need a plan, not just anger."
Ace looked at Arthur.
"Then tell me the plan."
Arthur gave a faint smile.
"I can place my flag over selected territories, but that protection won't be free."
Jozu's suspicion returned immediately. "There it is."
"I didn't say I wanted ownership." Arthur met his stare without irritation.
"Then what do you want?"
"Access to information."
The wind moved across the hill.
Arthur continued in an even tone.
"Help me establish contacts among the islands that accept my flag. Local leaders, merchants, ship captains, port officials, anyone who can report unusual movements before they turn into something more dangerous."
Marco listened without speaking.
Arthur's eyes hardened.
"I want a network that can warn both of us. If one of your territories is threatened, my people should know before the first cannon is fired. If my agents detect a major movement of hostile forces near one of your islands, you'll receive the report."
Ace looked toward the sea.
"So the flags would stand together, but the territories would remain under us."
"Exactly." Arthur gestured toward the distant darkness. "Your family keeps its authority. My flag adds deterrence. In return, the information network becomes stronger for both sides."
"And if your people start treating those islands as yours?" Jozu remained unconvinced.
"Then remove my flag." The answer came without hesitation.
Arthur looked directly at Marco.
"The arrangement ends the moment I use protection as an excuse to take control."
"And what else?" Marco's eyes narrowed as he weighed the offer.
"I want your support." Arthur did not pretend not to understand.
The commanders grew still.
Arthur continued.
"If I request assistance, the Whitebeard Pirates will consider it and send help when they reasonably can."
"Consider it?" Jozu raised an eyebrow.
"You're not my subordinates." Arthur's tone remained calm. "You have your own family, your own territory, and your own enemies. I won't demand that you abandon them because I sent a message."
Marco watched him closely.
Arthur went on.
"If I ask for ships, fighters, or an escort, you decide what you can spare. The help remains within your normal limits. No reckless mobilization. No sacrificing your people to repay a favor."
Ace's expression shifted.
That condition made the offer more believable.
Arthur was not trying to bind them with an impossible debt. He was creating a mutual arrangement with clear boundaries.
Marco looked toward Whitebeard's grave.
"You're asking us to help build your information network and answer reasonable requests when we can."
"Yes."
"And in return, your flag protects the territories we designate."
"Yes."
"The islands remain under our authority."
"Yes."
"And if either side abuses the arrangement, it ends."
Arthur nodded.
"That's the agreement."
For a moment, no one spoke.
The proposal was not charity.
It was not surrender.
It was a practical exchange between two forces that had both lost something at Marineford and now had to survive the consequences.
Ace stepped closer to the grave.
"What happens to the people on those islands while we're building this network?"
Arthur answered immediately.
"My ships can begin carrying messages and observers between the selected ports. They won't interfere with local leadership. My people will report, verify, and defend only when the agreement requires it."
Marco considered the proposal again.
"And your flag?"
"It will be placed only where you approve it."
"No hidden conditions?" Jozu's expression remained stern.
Arthur looked at him. "None."
Jozu held his gaze for several seconds before looking away.
Marco finally exhaled.
"You're not trying to replace Pops."
"No one can."
Arthur's eyes returned to Whitebeard's grave.
"I won't pretend otherwise."
Ace lowered his head.
Whitebeard's final words returned to him.
Live.
Their father had never wanted them to become prisoners of his name. He had wanted his sons to survive, to protect one another, and to keep moving forward.
That did not mean abandoning the family.
It meant finding a way to preserve the family without throwing away the lives Whitebeard had fought to protect.
Ace looked toward Marco.
"What do you think?"
Marco remained silent for several seconds.
He looked at the map.
Then at Arthur.
"Why?"
"Why what?" Arthur met his gaze.
"Why are you offering this?"
Jozu glanced at Marco, but said nothing.
Marco continued.
"You're an Emperor now. You could take territory for yourself. You could put your flag on those islands and call it protection."
Arthur's expression remained calm.
"If I wanted their territory, I wouldn't be asking for your permission."
"Then what do you want?" Marco's eyes narrowed slightly.
Arthur looked toward the distant sea beyond the island.
"A sea where people don't have to choose which monster they're afraid of."
Nobody spoke.
Arthur continued.
"Whitebeard protected those islands because he chose to. He didn't ask those people to become his soldiers. He didn't demand that they serve him."
Marco's expression softened.
Arthur tapped the map.
"I won't either."
He pointed toward one of the marked territories.
"If an island wants our flag, we'll protect it. If they don't, we won't force it on them."
"And if they remove it?"
"We take it down."
Jozu raised an eyebrow.
"Even if pirates attack them afterward?"
"Their choice is still theirs." Arthur nodded.
Marco studied him for a long moment.
"You'd really let them make that choice?"
"Protection without freedom is just another form of ownership."
The words were simple.
But Marco understood what Arthur was saying.
Arthur wasn't trying to inherit Whitebeard's territory.
He wasn't trying to replace Pops.
He was offering them another way to keep their family standing without pretending they still possessed the power they had lost.
Marco finally looked down at the map again.
"How far are you willing to go?"
"As far as the agreement requires."
"And if we ask for help?"
"If we can help, we will."
Arthur paused.
"But I'm not asking you to become our subordinates. If you can't spare a ship, say no. If you can't send fighters, say no. Your family's survival comes first."
Jozu gave a quiet grunt of approval.
Arthur's gaze returned to Marco.
"I'd rather have an ally who tells me no than a subordinate who follows me into a grave."
"Pops told me to come to you if we ran into trouble after the war." Marco's expression softened slightly.
Ace looked at the grave.
For the first time since leaving Marineford, he wasn't thinking about the war.
He was thinking about what came after it.
Pops had told them to live.
At the time, Ace had thought those words meant surviving the battle.
Now he understood.
Living meant waking up the next morning and still having a family to protect.
It meant knowing when to fight and when not to.
It meant refusing to throw away another life simply because they were angry.
Ace slowly clenched his fist.
"If Pops were here..."
He stopped.
Marco looked at him.
Ace shook his head.
"No."
He looked toward the horizon.
"We don't need to ask what Pops would do."
Marco said nothing.
Ace continued.
"He already told us what to do."
Live.
The single word returned to him again.
Ace looked at Arthur.
"So if this keeps our people alive... I'm in."
Marco watched Ace for a moment before giving a small nod.
"Then we're in."
"As long as nobody mistakes cooperation for surrender." Jozu gave a low grunt.
"They won't." Arthur's expression did not change.
Vista allowed himself a faint smile.
"Then we have a plan."
A few quiet voices answered him.
The grief did not disappear, and the danger remained exactly where it had been. But the family now had something more useful than empty confidence: a structure, a warning system, and another force willing to stand beside them without claiming their inheritance.
No one moved toward the ships.
The decision had been made, but the hill still held them in place.
Not above Whitebeard's flag.
Not in its place.
Alongside it.
The two symbols moved together in the night wind.
For a moment, the gathered pirates watched them in silence.
Then the sea answered.
Far beyond the island, a Den Den Mushi began ringing aboard a ship that had been monitoring the news from Marineford.
A report was delivered.
Whitebeard's territories were not undefended.
The Whitebeard Pirates had accepted protection from Arthur.
The ART flag had appeared beside the old Emperor's banner.
The news traveled from ship to ship, from port to port, until every ambitious captain understood the same thing.
The strongest man was dead.
But the space he had left behind was not empty.
It had been filled by a family that refused to break, an alliance that had not yet been tested, and a new force willing to stand against anyone who mistook mourning for weakness.
On the hill, Marco finally lifted his head.
"We'll leave when the sun rises."
No one objected.
For one more night, they would remain before the graves.
The ships could wait.
The territories could wait until morning.
But somewhere beyond the darkness, sails were already being raised.
Pirates were moving.
The first challengers were choosing their targets.
And as the Whitebeard flag and the ART flag continued to fly side by side above the graves, the sea began to gather the forces that would test their promise.
The next battle had not begun.
But its shadow had already reached the shore.