Gold dulled and blades rusted—signs of a treasure aged by time.
Yet on this vast, endless sea, ancient treasure is hardly rare.
For many pirates, a lifelong pursuit is to discover a treasure that has withstood the test of time.
And yet—
Guided here by a treasure map, they had indeed found the treasure, but to their surprise, something else awaited them: a Poneglyph.
Law was taken aback. Maude, for his part, felt much the same.
"Never thought we'd find a Poneglyph in a place like this," Maude muttered, staring at the massive, five- to six-meter-tall stone slab before him. Ancient script carved into the surface—completely incomprehensible to him—lined the weathered rock.
"Was it placed here by the one who hid the treasure?"
That thought sparked a memory: the skeleton bound in chains atop the treasure chest.
The map and Eternal Pose had been sealed within that chest, and the skeleton's identity was forever a mystery.
Maude gave a small shake of his head.
Whoever left the Poneglyph here—tracking them down served no real purpose.
Law approached, torch in hand. Standing beside Maude, he looked up at the ancient inscriptions illuminated by the flickering light.
He couldn't read them either, yet he felt the overwhelming weight of history radiating from the stone.
It was a feeling only ancient script could evoke.
"Maude, are you interested in history?" Law asked.
"Not really. But I'm curious, at least a little," Maude replied without hesitation.
The Void Century… Eight hundred years lost to time?
He was curious—but that was it. Interest was something else entirely.
Law gave a slight nod at Maude's answer.
Maude glanced over. "What about you? Interested?"
"No," Law replied, shaking his head. "But if it were medical history… then maybe a little."
"That so…" Maude chuckled, thinking of Nico Robin—the one person they knew who could read these inscriptions.
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed from the cave's entrance.
Lafitte and the others had arrived.
Maude and Law turned in unison toward the sound.
Led by Lafitte, their companions filed into the cave one after another.
"Whoa! Treasure!" Bepo was the first to spot the piles of gold and jewels glittering in the torchlight.
"I've been sailing for years, and this is the first time I've really felt the joy of finding treasure!" he cried, bounding toward the heap.
He grabbed a small, palm-sized golden crown and placed it on his head—an awkward fit that made him look more comical than regal.
It wasn't that Bepo coveted treasure—it was the novelty that excited him.
Bailey, by contrast, remained composed, casting a disdainful glance Bepo's way.
Perona floated over, plucked a ruby ring from the pile, and happily slipped it onto her right index finger.
The rest of the crew gathered around the treasure, each reacting differently.
"Bit underwhelming," Lafitte muttered with a frown.
His comment drew puzzled looks from the others.
Compared to the typical treasure stored in a chest, the haul before them would've required seven or eight chests—plenty by any measure.
"Yohoho… weapons too?" Brook had made his way to a rack at the side of the cave, the green flame of ghostlight flickering to life in his hollow eye sockets.
It was for illumination, of course.
"Not just weapons—books, too," Philo called from beside an open wooden crate. She lifted out a tome thick with dust.
Brushing the cover clean, she carefully opened the book.
Even with the gentlest touch, the aged pages crumbled at the edges, disintegrating from centuries of wear.
Even where the pages held, the ink had faded to near invisibility.
Philo sighed in dismay at the sight of the timeworn texts.
Meanwhile, Brook stumbled upon a different kind of treasure.
Among the rusted weapons, he found a thin, slender sword.
"Yohoho, what luck."
He held the blade before him. The eerie green glow of his ghostfire reflected off the deep blue sheen of the sword, giving it a chilling aura.
"This sword…"
Brook's bony fingers pressed gently against the flat of the blade. Even without flesh, he could feel a coldness that touched the soul.
Just from inspecting it this closely, Brook could already tell—it was no ordinary rapier.
No wonder. The rest of the weapons were corroded with rust, their scabbards in tatters.
But this sword alone had endured the passage of time. Its deep blue blade showed not a speck of rust.
"Truly lucky," he murmured.
Brook's original weapon had broken during the battle on the Sabaody Archipelago.
His current rapier had been looted from a pirate crew—not bad, serviceable, but not exactly ideal.
For a swordsman, the quality of the blade spoke for itself.
Brook had long dreamed of finding a better sword, but fate had never delivered—until now.
"To you, I give the name Soul Mourner."
He could feel it—the weapon pulsed with an energy that mirrored his own.
"You'll be able to withstand my new techniques… yohoho…"
Holding such a fine sword, Brook felt a rare urge: the desire to test it in battle.
Reining in the excitement that Soul Mourner stirred within him, Brook took a deep breath. He drew his current blade, then gingerly tried to sheathe Soul Mourner into the old cane-scabbard.
Shhhink—
To his dismay, the blade's sharpness exceeded all expectation—it sliced clean through the scabbard.
"…"
Brook stared in silence at the now-bisected scabbard.
Well, that's going to be a problem.
Without a proper sheath, one careless move might result in slicing off one of his own bones.
Not far away, Kuzan cast a glance at Brook's new blade. A flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes.
As a user of the Ice-Ice Fruit, he was deeply attuned to cold—and the sword in Brook's hand radiated a chilling presence so real, it felt as if it could crystallize into ice at any moment.
"Is it the weapon itself… or his ability? Or maybe… both?"
Kuzan watched with quiet curiosity, but not enough to bother asking Brook directly.
He withdrew his gaze and walked up beside Maude, his hands in his pockets, eyes calm as he looked at the Poneglyph.
"Ah… unexpected, that," Kuzan said mildly.
"No kidding…" Maude replied, giving him a sideways glance.
Then, meaningfully, he added, "I was thinking of asking a 'friend' to help decipher it. Want to come along, Kuzan?"
"…"
Kuzan looked silently at Maude, sensing a hidden message—but he had no proof.
"Judging by your face, I'm guessing that's a no."
"…You know where they are?" Kuzan asked instead of answering.
"Of course."
Maude nodded, smiling. "I left a Shadow Mark on a certain idiot. And to this day, that idiot still hasn't noticed."
"Shadow Mark?" Kuzan arched an eyebrow.
"Yup. It functions kind of like an Eternal Pose… or a Vivre Card."
"..."
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