Four hundred years is a terrifyingly vast expanse of time. The shifting sands of four centuries are more than enough to completely erase the rise and fall of empires, bury entire civilizations, and consign the names of heroes to absolute, permanent oblivion.
However, Mont Blanc Noland was a glaring, tragic exception to this rule.
Even if Noland had truly been celebrated as the most brilliant, successful explorer of his era, his name likely wouldn't have survived 400 years with such intense, ubiquitous infamy. The derogatory title 'Noland the Liar' had stubbornly clung to his legacy for four centuries, immortalized in widely published children's storybooks specifically designed to teach morals.
It wasn't until Bardock officially discovered the City of Gold and violently forced Morgans to publish the absolute truth across the globe that Noland's four-hundred-year curse was finally lifted.
Because of his infamous, enduring legacy, locating Noland's grave in the Lvneel Kingdom was incredibly easy. In fact, for the local citizens, the grave of their most notorious historical figure was actually treated as a minor, mildly amusing tourist attraction.
The primary reason Noland's modern-day descendant, Mont Blanc Cricket, had ultimately chosen to flee this island and become a pirate wasn't simply out of a romantic desire to find the City of Gold and clear his ancestor's name. It was also because he was completely unable to endure the suffocating, highly toxic social environment of his homeland.
Every single day of his life, he was subjected to the relentless pointing, whispering, and cruel mockery of the villagers. 'Oh, look, it's the Liar's bloodline.' 'Be careful, he's born to deceive people; don't associate with him.' 'Listen closely, children! If you aren't honest, you'll grow up to be a pathetic liar just like his family!' 'Watch your wallets around him!'
Given the absolute, crushing societal pressure and generational prejudice leveled against them, the fact that Noland's bloodline had even managed to survive and produce an heir four centuries later was nothing short of a biological miracle.
Standing before Noland's weathered, moss-covered tombstone, Mansherry and Leo were fully immersed in the solemn atmosphere. With tears streaming down their small faces, they passionately recounted the entire story of how they had finally discovered the City of Gold in the sky. They spoke of the Shandians' bizarre, agonizing 400-year struggle in the clouds, and they tearfully conveyed the deep regrets and unwavering friendship of the Great Warrior Kalgara.
Meanwhile, deep within the heavily fortified Royal Palace of the Lvneel Kingdom, the King had just received the frantic report regarding the arrival of the massive, solid gold White Dragon. He had also been informed that the crew currently disembarking was the exact same group of explorers who had recently made global headlines for discovering the City of Gold.
"THIS IS AN ABSOLUTE OUTRAGE!" the King roared, violently slamming his fists onto his ornate desk, sending a golden goblet clattering to the floor. "Do they think my royal army is just for decoration?! How dare they parade that stolen wealth into my harbor?!"
"Please calm your anger, Your Majesty!" The high-ranking ministers immediately rushed forward, frantically trying to appease the furious monarch.
"Your Majesty, please! Do not let a few incredibly lucky, insignificant peasants damage your precious health!"
"Sire, if I may be so bold... you should actually be rejoicing! This is a massive blessing! They have practically delivered a mountain of fat, juicy meat directly to our doorstep!"
"Exactly, Your Majesty! The staggering wealth that your esteemed royal ancestors failed to secure 400 years ago has miraculously delivered itself straight into your harbor today!"
"After four centuries of wandering, the gold has finally returned to its rightful owner: You, Your Majesty!"
When it came to actual statecraft, economic management, or military strategy, these ministers were profoundly incompetent. However, when it came to the highly specialized art of sycophancy, bootlicking, and perfectly echoing exactly what the King desperately wanted to hear, they were absolute, top-tier geniuses.
Hearing their honeyed words, the King's incredibly greedy, evil intentions were instantly solidified. 'They're just a bunch of no-name explorers sailing around the sea,' the King rationalized to himself. 'If they suddenly disappear... well, the oceans are highly treacherous. Everyone will simply assume they encountered a vicious pirate crew and sank.'
The King aggressively waved his hand. "Men! Dispatch the Royal Guard immediately! Arrest those 'illegal invaders' on charges of smuggling, and permanently confiscate their ship and all of its assets for the Kingdom!"
The moment the King's decree was issued, the military apparatus sprang into action.
Because arresting a small group of explorers and seizing a literal mountain of gold was perceived as an incredibly lucrative, completely risk-free assignment, the mobilization was chaotic. The King's elite personal guard rushed to join, and several ministers secretly deployed their own private, armed thugs into the ranks, hoping to skim some of the gold off the top during the chaos.
The resulting force was a massive, highly disorganized, deeply undisciplined mob of several hundred heavily armed men wearing mismatched uniforms. They marched aggressively through the city streets, brimming with sheer arrogance, fully convinced they were about to easily steamroll a tiny group of civilians.
Back at the cemetery, Mansherry and Leo finally finished their long, tearful monologue to Noland's grave.
Bardock clapped his hands lightly, drawing the crew's attention. "Alright, are we finished here? Let's head back."
No one had any objections. The primary emotional objective of their visit had been fulfilled, and they were ready to casually stroll back to the harbor and depart.
However, they hadn't walked very far down the main road leading back to the city when the massive, chaotic mob of Lvneel Kingdom soldiers suddenly surged around the corner, aggressively blocking their path with drawn swords and leveled rifles.
"Hm?" Bardock raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes sweeping over the hundreds of aggressively posturing soldiers. He let out a profound, tired sigh. "You know what... I am entirely too lazy to even ask what their stupid reason is."
Instead of drawing his sword or ordering an attack, Bardock simply narrowed his eyes and unleashed his Conqueror's Haki.
He didn't unleash a massive, highly destructive wave to instantly knock them out. Instead, he maintained absolute, pinpoint control over the pressure, condensing it into a terrifying, suffocating physical weight that he slowly projected forward as he took a step.
The effect was instantaneous and absolute.
The hundreds of soldiers who had been arrogantly shouting threats mere seconds ago suddenly choked, sounding exactly like a flock of ducks having their throats violently squeezed. Absolute, terrifying silence instantly gripped the mob.
The soldiers' faces turned a sickly, pale white. Thick beads of cold, terrified sweat erupted across their foreheads. Their legs began to tremble uncontrollably as a primal, deeply instinctive terror violently seized their minds.
Bardock took one step forward. The entire mob of hundreds of armed men simultaneously took a terrified, synchronized step backward.
Bardock took another step.
Unable to withstand the sheer, suffocating pressure of a true apex predator's aura, the soldiers' formations completely shattered. They aggressively scrambled over each other, desperately diving into the muddy ditches on both sides of the road, frantically pressing themselves flat against the dirt to clear the path.
Without saying a single word, Bardock and his crew casually strolled down the center of the road, completely ignoring the hundreds of armed men trembling in the mud on either side of them.
It wasn't until Bardock's group had completely disappeared down the street that the suffocating pressure finally vanished. The soldiers collapsed, gasping violently for air as if they had just narrowly avoided drowning. Every single one of them knew with absolute, terrifying certainty that if they had dared to utter even a single word of defiance, they would have been slaughtered instantly.
"TRASH! ABSOLUTE GARBAGE! WHAT DO I EVEN PAY YOU FOR?!"
Back in the Royal Palace, the King was in a state of absolute, apoplectic rage, violently hurling expensive vases and throwing a massive tantrum after hearing the report of his army's complete humiliation.
"Please, Your Majesty, you must calm down! It's terrible for your health..." a minister began, immediately attempting his usual bootlicking routine.
"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!" the King roared, throwing a golden plate at the man's head.
"Right away, Sire!" The minister flawlessly executed a strategic retreat, instantly scurrying out of the room to avoid the King's wrath.
"Hmph." The King collapsed back into his throne, his breathing heavy, a dark, vicious glint in his eyes. He was absolutely not going to just let this go. However, he wasn't completely stupid. A group that could instantly terrify hundreds of armed soldiers into submission without lifting a finger clearly possessed genuine, high-level combat strength. Utilizing the Kingdom's mediocre military to force the issue was far too risky.
After a few moments of dark contemplation, the King's lips curled into a sinister smile. He reached into his robes, pulled out a highly encrypted Den Den Mushi, and dialed a very specific, dangerous number.
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