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Ayr possessed an incredibly dangerous trump card—the power of the Ten Tails. Although his Fairy Eye had only developed to the mid-tier stage, limiting his control, he could still temporarily suppress the beast using his Rinnegan-like eye and Sage Body. Yet, the risk remained real; the Ten Tails could resist his will and throw him into a berserk state, much like Naruto once struggled with Kurama before gaining mastery. Still, for short bursts, Ayr was fully capable of wielding its apocalyptic might. Coupled with backup powers like Susanoo, Conqueror's Haki, and Sage Art-enhanced swordsmanship, he was confident even when facing the dangers within the Holy Land of Mariejois.
Upon hearing Ayr's declaration, Whitebeard turned toward him, concern and curiosity etched into his expression. "Ayr, do you really plan to trust that man and head to Mariejois?" he asked, voice hoarse and heavy with uncertainty.
"Relax. Even if something happens, I have the power to come back alive," Ayr replied calmly, his eyes gleaming with unwavering confidence.
The CPO agent standing beside them stepped forward, tone brimming with assurance. "The choice you've made, Ayr—to cooperate with the World Government—is the wisest decision of your life."
Ayr, indifferent and resolute, dismissed the exchange. "Enough with the chatter. Just take me there."
Though he operated more like a freelance warlord, aligned with rogue factions and obtaining rare treasures like Devil Fruits through conquest and plunder, that path had proven too slow. Acquiring high-grade Devil Fruits—especially Mythical Zoans or Logias—one at a time, even for someone like him, was tedious. If there was a quicker route through political leverage or backdoor deals with the Celestial Dragons or the Five Elders, then even a high-risk venture into Mariejois was worth considering. He didn't fear the World Government; he saw them as pawns on the board, manipulable tools rather than threats.
"If that's the case, I'll go with you, Ayr," Whitebeard suddenly said after a moment of silence.
Ayr blinked in surprise and stared at him, unsure if he'd heard correctly. "This is my fight, Edward. You don't need to come along."
"Gurararara! Think of it as me making amends… for destroying your homeland," Whitebeard laughed, half-joking, half-apologetic, though the concern behind his words was genuine.
Ayr wasn't just a powerful ally—he was the first true friend Whitebeard had made since setting out as a pirate. The same man who once faced the entire Marine Headquarters to save Ace still lived within him. His values hadn't changed: family came first.
"Dad, then we're going too!" Marco stepped forward, voice eager and determined. Another division commander echoed the sentiment, and soon a chorus followed: "If you're going, then take all of us, Pops! That place is seriously dangerous. Let's go together! It's not safe for you to go alone!"
But Whitebeard simply shook his head. "No. You all will stay here."
He knew better than anyone what Mariejois represented. This wasn't a war—it was a diplomatic mission, albeit a perilous one. Bringing the whole crew would be reckless.
"Dad…" Marco began again, but Whitebeard raised a hand, silencing him.
"Listen. Just this once, obey me. I'm only accompanying Ayr to talk to the Five Elders, nothing more. There won't be a battle."
"But—"
"Enough," Whitebeard interrupted firmly. "Do you think I'm weak? That I can't protect myself?"
Reluctantly, the Whitebeard Pirates fell silent. They exchanged uneasy glances, but none of them challenged him further. They knew his resolve—when Whitebeard made a decision, not even a Yonko alliance could sway him.
"You sure you want to come, Edward? If something goes sideways, I might not be able to protect you," Ayr said seriously. Even if negotiations broke down and the Five Elders turned hostile, he had the Ten Tails, Susanoo, and teleportation ninjutsu to escape. But with Whitebeard in tow, things became more complicated. He couldn't afford to split focus in a fight.
"Ayr, you brat, don't underestimate my power," Whitebeard chuckled. Right now, his strength neared its absolute peak—easily on par with the future Yonko. Even if the Five Elders had their own trump cards, Whitebeard had no fear. He wouldn't allow himself to be treated like baggage.
"Alright then," Ayr finally nodded in agreement.
---
Several Days Later… Atop the Red Line
The Red Line stretched endlessly across the globe, and at its highest point stood the Holy Land of Mariejois—the beating political heart of the World Government. While sections of it were magnificent and regal, most of its expanse remained barren, untouched by civilization. It was in one of these desolate, windswept zones that a ferocious clash was taking place.
BOOOOM!!!
A thunderous explosion cracked the sky as Garp's monstrous fist collided with Zephyr's equally devastating strike. The impact fractured the ground into deep craters, and a pulse of Haki-charged air surged outward, sending shockwaves in every direction. After a moment of blinding force, both warriors leapt backward, wide grins stretching across their faces.
"Hahaha! You've gotten a hell of a lot stronger, Zephyr!" Garp bellowed, his laughter booming across the plain.
"You too, Garp. But I still can't match your raw power," Zephyr replied, rubbing his shoulder with a mixture of pain and admiration.
Though Zephyr held the title of Admiral and Garp had long refused any promotion past Vice Admiral, the sheer gap in strength remained evident. Over months of joint training, Zephyr had come to deeply respect Garp's inhuman strength and mastery of Armament Haki.
"You two flatter each other too much," Sengoku said from the sidelines, arms crossed, a dry smile on his face. "But it's true—the difference in your strength since the Battle of the Valley of the Gods is like night and day."
Sengoku wasn't exaggerating.
So what were these Marine legends—Garp, Zephyr, Sengoku, and Tsuru—doing training atop the Red Line?
Following the Battle of the Valley of the Gods, the global balance had tipped heavily in favor of the pirates. The remnants of the Rocks Pirates, Whitebeard's rise, and Ayr's terrifying emergence had sent the world spiraling into chaos. Recognizing their slipping grip, the World Government adopted a long-term strategy: allow the New World to fester in chaos as pirates fought and weakened each other, while quietly preparing for a massive counteroffensive.
Part of that strategy involved launching a World Conscription campaign to recruit new elite forces. Another part was far more drastic—sending their most powerful veterans directly to Mariejois for training under the Five Elders themselves.
Garp, Zephyr, Sengoku, and Tsuru—long hailed within Marine ranks as the Four Stars, prodigies of unprecedented promise—were now being personally instructed by the Five Elders, beings said to hold forbidden knowledge of the Void Century and ancient techniques passed down since the time of the first Great Pirate Era.
Under their tutelage, the Four Stars had grown unimaginably stronger. Their abilities now dwarfed what they had wielded during the Valley of the Gods incident. No longer just legends of the Navy, they had become the World Government's hidden aces—the trump cards for the war that was inevitably coming.
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