Seeing the serious look on Lucian Thorn's face, Whitebeard could already guess—this was something big.
A heavy silence followed.
By the time the small boat docked beside the massive whale ship, the entire Whitebeard Pirates crew was in the middle of a feast.
But Lucian didn't join the party.
He, Whitebeard, and Marco quietly made their way through the noisy crowd and entered the heart of the giant ship.
The captain's cabin.
Bang.
The heavy wooden door shut behind them, sealing off the noise and wild energy outside.
The lighting inside was dim.
The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and strong liquor.
This was the place where the Whitebeard Pirates made their decisions.
Every time this door closed, it meant something that could change the landscape of the sea was about to happen.
The ease on the deck had transformed into the pressure of an impending storm.
Whitebeard didn't sit.
His mountain-like figure stood in the center of the room, and his massive Murakumo Giri rested silently against the wall by his side, radiating invisible pressure.
Marco leaned habitually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a confused look on his face he couldn't hide.
"Gurararara, kid, what's going on? Why all the secrecy?"
Lucian didn't answer.
He walked up to the giant wooden table—one that could seat dozens—and extended his right hand, tapping the rough surface with his index finger.
Buzz.
A ripple of golden light spread from his fingertip, softly illuminating the entire room.
Within the light, three glowing characters formed from pure energy rose from the tabletop and hovered in midair.
The characters carried an ancient and blood-soaked aura.
God Valley.
The moment Marco saw the words, his expression froze.
Of course he'd heard the name.
In the history books. In the legends. It was the final battlefield where the Rocks Pirates fell.
But why was Lucian bringing it up now—and in this way?
Whitebeard's reaction was entirely different.
"!!!"
Every trace of expression on his face vanished in an instant.
His eyes, which had gazed down upon the seas for decades, contracted to sharp pinpoints.
A cold, violent, nightmare-laced killing intent exploded from his body!
It wasn't directed at anyone—it came from the depths of his soul.
A forbidden nightmare.
He would never forget.
That place, that battlefield—it was the bloodiest, most brutal hell he had faced in his youth. A memory he never wanted to relive.
Monsters who had once fought side by side. Enemies so powerful they drove men to despair. All turned into dust on that battlefield.
"Kid…"
Whitebeard's voice was raspy and deep, as if scraped from rusty gears.
"What do you mean by… bringing that place up?"
The room's temperature seemed to drop.
Lucian raised his head, his golden eyes meeting Whitebeard's murderous gaze without flinching.
"Pops. Marco."
He finally spoke. His tone was calm—but his words hit like a tidal wave.
"My target… is thirty-eight years ago."
"The God Valley Incident."
BOOM!!!
It was like an invisible bolt of thunder exploded in the captain's quarters!
Marco shot upright, his face filled with disbelief.
Go back in time?
To God Valley, thirty-eight years ago?
"Kid, are you insane?!"
Whitebeard could no longer suppress the storm within him. He stomped forward—and the entire Moby Dick shuddered violently!
He grabbed Lucian by the shoulder. That giant hand, capable of crushing steel, trembled with agitation.
"Do you know what that place is?! It's hell! A meat grinder for monsters! Rocks D. Xebec, Roger, Garp, those damn Celestial Dragons and their lackeys!
All of the world's top-tier lunatics and monsters were gathered there that day! You're telling me you plan to go back alone—?!"
Whitebeard was panicking.
No—he was afraid.
He had seen how terrifying that battle had been. It was a bloodbath that nearly claimed his life.
He couldn't imagine—wouldn't allow—the son he treasured most to walk into a deathtrap like that alone.
Lucian's expression didn't change.
He simply shook his head.
"No, Pops. I'm not insane."
"And do you still not trust my strength, Pops?"
"The 'hell' you remember—is where my truth lies."
"There are secrets I must uncover. About Rocks D. Xebec. About why he challenged the Celestial Dragons. About those self-proclaimed 'gods' and the filth they've hidden. About the 800 years this world has tried to erase…"
"All the answers, the source of everything—might be found on that battlefield."
Upon hearing this—
Whitebeard slowly released Lucian's shoulder.
A faint weariness leaked from his towering frame.
He knew.
He wouldn't be able to talk this son out of it.
Just like he couldn't stop Roger from turning himself in back then.
Some things… some people… were simply destined to do what they must.
Marco struggled to process the shocking revelation. He finally managed to speak.
"Lucian… you're going to time-travel again, right?"
He had asked the most critical question.
Yes.
But this time, there would be a cost.
A cost?
"What cost?" Whitebeard and Marco asked in unison.
"I've tampered with time too often," Lucian said softly, his voice filled with unspeakable weariness.
"And time… will tamper with me in return."
His words were ominous.
Whitebeard and Marco instantly tensed, hearts in their throats.
Lucian turned around, looking them both in the eyes.
His expression grew impossibly grave.
Then, word by word, he spoke:
"This time, when I trace time back into God Valley—no matter how long I spend there… a day… a year…"
He paused.
Let the weight of his words fill the room.
Then came the answer:
"In the real world… about two years will pass."
"...Two years?!"
Marco shouted in disbelief!
His mind went blank—he couldn't begin to comprehend what those two words meant.
Two years!
In the ever-shifting New World, anything could happen in two years!
An Emperor could fall. A new era could rise!
Lucian would vanish—for two full years?!
Whitebeard was speechless.
His massive form froze like a stone statue.
Mouth open. No words.
He had imagined many terrible costs—shortened lifespan, severe injuries, even being banished by time forever…
But not this.
Not time itself.
Two years…
For an old man with not many days left to live—two years was an unbearable luxury.
The shockwave from Lucian's revelation swept through the room.
In that moment, all sound vanished.
Only the stunned, horrified, and dazed faces of Whitebeard and Marco remained.
The captain's cabin fell into deathly silence.