Sakazuki shook his head, sweeping away those swirling thoughts.
It was still far too early—everything had only just begun.
He remembered the gift he'd prepared for Karol.
Turning to the bookshelf, he took down a long blade wrapped in crimson cloth and handed it over.
With a soft chuckle, Sakazuki said,
"This is for you."
Karol accepted the sword, running his fingers lightly over the cloth.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
"What a fierce aura… The owner of this blade—was he a great swordsman?"
Sakazuki smiled.
"Not just a great swordsman—he was also one of the strongest Conqueror's Haki users."
A realization seemed to hit Karol. His eyes widened.
"Wait, is this…?!"
"Open it and see for yourself," Sakazuki replied.
Unable to contain his excitement, Karol tore off the red cloth.
A flash of awe lit up his gaze.
"One of the 21 Great Grade Swords… Golden Lion's blade—Sakura Ten."
It was more a sword than a katana—a double-edged longsword, its edge honed by years of battles at the side of the Golden Lion.
Even resting quietly, it radiated a razor-sharp presence.
Karol drew the blade from its sheath, spinning it lightly in his hand.
Whoosh!
The air split with a sharp hiss, a faint blade of wind slicing out and nicking the furniture around the room.
That said everything about the sword's lethality—and the Golden Lion's tragic fate.
A top-tier Conqueror's Haki user, a man who could split the sea with a single swing—
Golden Lion, the very definition of overwhelming offense and fragile defense.
In the Battle of Edd War, he'd led a battered Frank and a crippled Whitebeard against three Marine juggernauts.
His Conqueror's Haki was useless, his sword aura couldn't break through their defenses.
All he could do was rely on what little air supremacy he had left.
After the battle, his fleet was nearly wiped out.
He barely managed to rebuild, only to get played by Sakazuki.
Then Garp and Sengoku got up close and personal…
Sometimes, you just had to admire the Golden Lion—
That indomitable will,
That ambition and courage to conquer the world, forged all the way back in the Rocks era.
Even in the original story, after lying low for twenty years,
He launched his plan as soon as the plot began.
Failure after failure, setback after setback—nothing could break him.
Head shattered, legs severed,
From the day he dreamed of conquering the world to the day he died,
That goal never changed.
Swish!
The blade slid back into its sheath.
Karol beamed.
"Thank you, Vice Admiral Sakazuki!"
Sakazuki grinned.
"As long as you like it."
"Come on, let's go check on Enel. After sitting around for a month, I'm getting rusty. By the way, what's today's date?"
Karol answered,
"February 6th."
Sakazuki nodded.
"We set sail on the 7th!"
Karol's face fell.
"Ehh?!"
——
Grand Line, a small island near Marineford.
BOOM!
A thunderous crash split the air.
Garp's warship was docked at the shore, its crew watching a distant figure in awe.
"Hey, isn't this getting ridiculous?"
"How many's that now?"
"That's the sixth one."
"Vice Admiral Garp has way too much energy. He hasn't stopped for four days straight!"
"He's a monster!"
Deep in the island, beneath what was left of a once-mighty mountain,
Garp grinned, his fists slick with blood.
He eyed the mountain's base, a sudden flash of inspiration in his eyes.
He raised his battered fist—no Armament Haki, just raw instinct.
He smashed it forward.
A shockwave tore through the mountain's core.
BOOM!
A cylindrical blast punched clean through the rock.
From Garp's side, you could see sunlight shining through the hole.
He burst out laughing.
"That's it! Hahahahahaha! Just you wait, Chinjao. I'll smash your head flat, old man!"
His mind flashed back to the pirate he'd crossed paths with while searching for Sengoku—
Chinjao of the Happo Navy.
In their past battles, Garp always relied on his freakish physique and overwhelming Armament Haki.
With his reserves, he never bothered to focus it—every punch was wide open, brute force.
But Chinjao—
His Haki reserves were lacking, but he could channel every ounce of power into a single point,
Breaking through Garp's defenses.
He couldn't defeat Garp outright, but it was enough to make things end in a draw.
Still, it was damn annoying.
So, two proud warriors made a promise:
They'd settle it in the North Blue.
BOOM!
Another punch—another hole, this one even narrower than the last.
The mountain-smashing training continued.
Behind Garp, five towering piles of shattered stone lined up from largest to smallest.
——
West Blue, Ohara—the sacred land of archaeology.
In a quiet house far from town,
A handful of young scholars bid farewell to the doctor who had just delivered a child.
One scholar moved to re-enter the house, but a companion stopped him with a shake of the head.
He sighed, and the group settled outside, burying themselves in their books as they waited in silence.
Inside,
White-haired Nico Olvia lay weakly on the bed,
Gazing at the newborn beside her, whose features mirrored both herself and her late husband.
She didn't know if bringing this child into the world was right or wrong.
Everything she was about to do… was forbidden by the World Government.
She didn't know what the future would hold—her husband had already died for this cause.
She held no illusions.
But she couldn't bear to let her husband's bloodline end.
The expedition was already forming—time was running out…
But for this child, it was all too cruel.
She looked at the baby, whose face so closely resembled her husband.
"You'll be called Robin. Nico Robin."
She gently nuzzled Robin's tiny cheek.
Sensing the affection, Robin leaned in, nuzzling back.
Olvia's tears finally broke free.
Sobbing, she whispered,
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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