Year 1465 of the Sea Circle.
The alliance later known as the Eleven-Nation Pact was born.
Led by the Steel Country, Gordenstein, eleven nations formally announced their withdrawal from the World Government and formed a mutual-aid coalition.
The world was stunned.
Though the White Wolf Pirates' media push swayed many member nations to see Gordenstein's withdrawal as understandable—after all, the World Government had acted inhuman first—
leaving the World Government meant losing Marine protection.
How could they stand in the New World?
This wasn't the Four Seas or the first half of the Grand Line; in the New World, hundred-million-bounty pirates were everywhere.
Then the World Government "revealed the truth."
The Eleven of Steel had, it claimed, been deceived by the White Wolf Pirates into leaving the World Government; they expressed "regret."
At the same time,
the Government officially placed the White Wolf Pirates on a purge list, designated Sphinx—its newest "member nation"—as completely controlled by the pirates, a paradise for pirates and the underworld.
One month later,
the Marines would launch a "Demon-Slaying Order" on Sphinx.
They weren't striking the eleven seceders directly—
but hammering their sponsor was warning enough.
If the White Wolf Pirates couldn't even save themselves,
how could they protect Gordenstein and the other ten?
"Storm's coming."
Fleet Admiral Ardent drew on a cigarette. Two years ago he still had plenty of black hair; now even his mustache was shot through with white.
Two years had aged him a decade.
A few years back he'd had ambition left—wanted to climb higher.
What sits above Fleet Admiral?
The World Government's Supreme Commander—second only to the Five Elders in practice.
Too bad.
Magnus's return, the Battle of Sphinx, the Battle of Elbaf, the attack on Mary Geoise, Rona's defection—
in a few short years, they drained him dry.
If the Marines weren't so short-handed,
he'd resign—let someone else sit in this damned chair.
"Haha, I'm actually relieved."
The Marine Chief of Staff, Portman Nissen, laughed.
"Good thing you took the seat, not me. If it were me, I'd already be figuring out how to grab a bucket and bolt."
Gallows humor.
Though the World Government had ordered a Buster Call on Sphinx, Portman Nissen didn't believe, given current Marine strength, that they could pull it off.
Forget Magnus—
there was Harold, king of giants; that brat Rona; and the newcomer who took out Grindevin.
Those three alone would make them choke.
Portman Nissen glanced at Ardent. Since Rona left, the old man likely couldn't even bring out half of his former peak.
He was about the same.
Which meant the Marines' true Admiral-class today was just Ortega Siven, Kong, and a freshly recruited third Admiral from the global draft—a Logia user.
In that state, even a full mobilization left their odds against the White Wolf hovering near zero.
Worse:
"The White Wolf Pirates don't just have Pure Gold—they have a youth-restoring secret medicine. That intel's been circulating among black-market brokers for a while."
"We've confirmed this much—"
"at least six hundred-million-bounty pirates have pledged themselves to the White Wolf Pirates, and even one old monster with a two-hundred-million tag."
At that, both Portman Nissen and Ardent turned grim. Forget the elderly pirates; even they felt tempted hearing it.
Eternal youth.
Everyone knew Magnus wouldn't hand out the potion and Pure Gold wholesale. But for top fighters at death's door, better to gamble than fade away.
One consolation:
a century of Marine dominance had thinned the ranks of top-tier pirates, while many of the Government's own apex fighters—outside those still in post—had already died.
Otherwise—if Magnus dangled Pure Gold—
Portman Nissen and Ardent exchanged a look.
They believed their devotion to justice wouldn't lose to time.
"Besides us, the God's Knights will move too."
"Mm."
Ardent relayed orders from above.
"Not just the God's Knights—the Seven Warlords move as well, but with different targets. They go for the Eleven of Steel."
"So they will strike the eleven."
"Given what they've done, it's no longer 'venting resentment.' Seeking the White Wolf's protection is tantamount to hostile intent toward the Government."
Ardent drew a deep breath.
"The lords will never allow it."
Thus:
if the Eleven had left the World Government and lost Marine protection, let them taste pirate raids to the full.
For this operation,
the Marines' job was to pin the White Wolf Pirates.
Then—
let the Seven Warlords annihilate the eleven nations.
As for further measures—Ardent was sure there were some,
just not for him to know.
At that moment, the Transponder Snail on his desk rang.
"Fleet Admiral Ardent, emergency!"
A panicked Marine voice blared.
"Our Sphinx operatives report the White Wolf Pirates are mustering on Sphinx in force."
"Their targets—"
"Akropolis Port, and the G-1 Marine Branch!"
If you'll be besieged anyway—strike first!
With eleven nations pledging themselves, that meant, of the New World's twenty-one member nations, the White Wolf now influenced more than half.
In that case—why not go big?
Marine intel was already out of date; the White Wolf had recruited fifteen hundred-million-bounty captains—many bringing their whole sub-crews.
It was a deal.
Each great pirate received one hundred doses of Stussy's youth potion, with bonuses based on how long and how well they served.
Eventually, they'd "retire" in the anglerfish's belly.
As for Pure Gold?
Magnus would never hand Pure Gold to pirates.
Truth be told, they were cannon fodder.
If they lived, they fought again next time.
If they died—no pension.
Even so, for the elderly and the dying, it was an irresistible lure.
Why strike first?
Because Akropolis Port is the Marines' gateway to the New World.
Pirates might reach the New World via undersea channels and bypass Akropolis entirely—
but the Marines?
To deploy across the Red Line, any forces heading to the New World must pass the Red Port beneath the Red Line—through Akropolis.
In this era, the Marines lacked the tech to cross the Calm Belt freely, and couldn't sail directly from the first half to the second half of the Grand Line.
Therefore—
if the White Wolf seized Akropolis Port—the New World's gate—they would sever the Marines from the New World.
Any mass deployment would be impossible to hide from the White Wolf's eyes.
The message made it plain:
the White Wolf meant to force a decisive battle with the Government at Akropolis Port.
But the Government refused to dance to Magnus's tune.
If the target were Marineford, they'd be delighted—home turf favored the Marines.
Akropolis?
Just an ordinary island by the Red Line, no natural fortress—meaning a fair-field slugfest with the White Wolf.
A raw deal.
Even so, they had to fight.
Neither the Marines nor the Government could allow the White Wolf to swallow Akropolis.
Lose it,
and the White Wolf would have the New World in their pocket.
By now, the world's pirates fell into three camps:
the "old guard" under the White Wolf,
the Seven Warlords under the Government,
and the mid-generation pirates who belonged to neither.
The third group was largest, but with the obvious flaw—no standard bearer, just a rabble.
If Magnus won this battle, the rest of the New World would bow—like it or not.
Even so, the Government simply shifted the Marines' plan from attacking Sphinx to defending Akropolis.
The other prong remained.
If the Eleven of Steel were destroyed, then even if Magnus took Akropolis, the spoils would shrink.
The New World was a ruin in the first place—wild weather, poor yields, risky trade lanes.
Pulverize the eleven—
and who cares if the White Wolf "owns" the New World?
At bottom,
this was a game between the Government and the White Wolf.
The White Wolf first tried to limit Marine entry—seeding public opinion so that only non-Marine apex forces clashed.
The Government replied by crushing Wano and ordering a Buster Call on Sphinx—shameless.
Sphinx was a Government-approved member nation.
Buster Call it?
The White Wolf could flee with Sphinx in tow,
but the end state would still be Marines intervening against the eleven.
So Magnus shoved all his chips in.
If they were going to play, they would play big—he would start the war himself.
The Government targeted the eleven because they sought the White Wolf's shelter; once the White Wolf struck on their behalf, that would confirm it.
Then the Marines could enter the war.
But that created another problem:
with current strength, could the Marines truly suppress the White Wolf?
Would adding the God's Knights be enough?
If not, would the Five Elders and Imu enter the field?
If the Five Elders and Imu jumped in,
Magnus would surrender—he had no way to fight that.
But that would expose them to the world.
Thus the tacit rule:
if the Marines did not enter the Eleven's war, then even if the Five Elders or Imu struck, the White Wolf would accept it—
because neither side would expose the other.
But if the Marines stepped in, making it a total war between Government and White Wolf—why keep the fight in Gordenstein?
So Magnus chose to act.
He would attack Akropolis, seize the world's attention, and cut the White Wolf off—narratively—from the Eleven.
Even if the Government destroyed the Eleven, the White Wolf's reputation would remain intact—
only the profits would dip.
Conversely,
if the White Wolf openly challenged and took Akropolis,
it would slap the Government across the face.
Put simply: since the Government had tossed aside pretense, the White Wolf would flip the table too. At worst, Ripley would evacuate every civilian from the eleven nations, minimize casualties, and after the war they would rebuild.
Magnus was gambling—
gambling that the Five Elders and Imu would not dare act in full view of the world.
And gambling that the Government believed
the Marines plus the God's Knights could defeat the White Wolf head-on without the Five Elders and Imu.
Pride is poison.
Unfortunately, the Celestial Dragons were the proudest race Magnus had ever seen—and Imu and the Five Elders, its pinnacle.
If they truly dared reveal themselves before the world—the Five Elders' demonic forms—
Magnus would concede defeat.
July, Year 1465.
The White Wolf mustered thirty thousand Sphinx Guards, more than thirty pirate crews large and small, and Elbaf's giant legions—seventy thousand in all—
and set sail for Akropolis Port.
At the same time,
the Marines gathered elite forces from around the globe at G-1.
Cipher Pol mobilized too.
The "Paramount War" to come would be Marines vs. one Emperor's crew.
But this war—
was the first full-on clash between the White Wolf Pirates and the World Government.
Without anyone noticing,
Magnus's crew had grown to a force that made the world tremble.
Though Newgate and Linlin—future emperors—had yet to reach their peaks, their fangs were already showing.
In the first half of the Grand Line,
a ship with a crookedly painted Jolly Roger raised sail.
After defeating Grindevin and claiming his first ship—once his wounds had healed—Rocks finally set out with his own crew.
"Haha—war with the World Government? The old man is as arrogant as ever!"
Catching a glimpse of Magnus's shadow in the distance, Rocks laughed loud and long.
"A feast like that—how could I be absent?"
"Barloric, weigh anchor!"
"To Akropolis!"
(End of Chapter)
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