As more time passed aboard the Rocks Pirates' ship, their attacks became more frequent and far more daring.
They had begun to seize and raid ships directly under the World Government's control, vessels that often carried treasure and tribute meant for the Celestial Dragons.
These were not simple merchant ships—they were heavily guarded by Cipher Pol agents who considered themselves untouchable, believing that their connection to the Celestial Dragons made them superior to even the kings and princes of the world.
But their arrogance meant nothing once the Rocks Pirates appeared. Every time they attacked, there were rarely any survivors left behind, and the ones who did live long enough to speak often wished they hadn't.
With Thor now taking part in those battles, the agents who once looked down on others were now the ones looking up at him, their faces filled with disbelief and fear.
One of the agents, cornered and trembling, still tried to act superior, as if his words carried authority. "Don't you know what you're doing? You're destroying Elbaph's chance of ever being recognized by the World Government! You're undoing everything Harald has worked for!" he shouted, his tone more desperate than confident.
Thor, who stood towering over the agent, simply looked down at him, unimpressed by his words. "That's King Harald to you," he said coldly. "You're nothing but a dog chained to your masters."
Before the agent could say another word, Thor's weapon came crashing down, ending the conversation instantly. It wasn't the first time Thor had killed a CP agent, and it wouldn't be the last.
There were even moments when he didn't bother to speak to them at all—especially on days when he wasn't in the mood to entertain their arrogance.
As Thor continued fighting directly against the World Government, his reputation began to grow rapidly. Newspapers and bounty posters spread across the seas, labeling him as the Terrible Prince of Elbaph, a name that carried both awe and fear.
The World Government made sure to fuel this image, launching smear campaigns that painted Thor as a violent, uncontrollable giant and portrayed Elbaph as a savage nation that could never be civilized.
However, not everyone was fooled. The countries that had dealt with the World Government long enough began to notice a pattern.
Every time the Government spoke ill of someone, it was because they had refused to submit.
Many leaders who once doubted Harald's rule now saw the truth more clearly. The more the World Government lied about Elbaph, the more it revealed its own willingness to twist facts to control the world's opinion.
As the slander spread, the opposite of what the Government intended began to happen.
Small nations and neutral kingdoms, especially those who had once suffered under similar lies, started to quietly reach out to Harald.
They offered trade, information, and friendship, seeing Elbaph as a symbol of resistance.
Without realizing it, Thor's actions and defiance had started to bear fruit. His plan to strengthen Elbaph's independence was slowly taking shape, one battle and one headline at a time.
Meanwhile, back in Elbaph, the effects of Thor's name echoed loudly. Every morning, Loki, Hajrudin, and the others would gather around to read the newest newspapers brought by traders and travelers.
The moment they saw Thor's name mentioned in another grand battle, their eyes would light up, not with worry, but with pride and envy.
"Look at him," Loki said once, folding the newspaper after reading it aloud. "He's fighting across the seas while we're still stuck here training."
Those reports motivated everyone. Hajrudin's training sessions, which used to attract little attention, began drawing crowds.
Even the young giants who once avoided him because of his mixed bloodline started showing up, eager to learn.
They wanted to follow Thor's example—to fight, to explore, to prove themselves worthy of being called warriors of Elbaph.
Despite the peaceful nature of their people, the spirit of battle had always been part of their identity.
It wasn't about bloodshed for its own sake, but about strength, pride, and the desire to stand tall in the world without fear. The old flame of the giants was being reignited.
Among the new faces who joined the training were a pair of young twins, Ripley and Ricca. The two were inseparable and shared the same dream—to one day become warriors like Thor.
Ricca, in particular, had grown especially passionate after reading the stories of Thor's battles on the sea.
"Do you think Thor will come back soon?" Ricca asked eagerly, her voice full of excitement as they made their way toward the training grounds.
Ripley shrugged, trying to act calm even though she felt the same curiosity. "Ask Gerd. She's close with Hajrudin and Loki. If anyone knows anything, it's probably her."
Ricca immediately punched Ripley on the shoulder, pouting. "You could've just said you don't know instead of sending me to Gerd."
"Oh, stop whining," Ripley said, rubbing her shoulder but smiling anyway. "We're going to be late if you keep talking."
The two of them started bickering playfully as they continued down the path, their voices echoing across the training fields.
For them, and for many others, Thor's name had become more than just a legend—it was a promise that one day, they too could leave Elbaph and make their mark on the world.
And though none of them knew when Thor would return, every single one of them trained with the same thought in mind: that when he did, they would be strong enough to stand beside him as true warriors of Elbaph.
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As the Rocks ship rested at a random island for supplies, the crew relaxed with that kind of careless confidence that comes from winning too often.
For Thor, complacency did not last long. He felt a presence first, a heavy pressure moving toward them across the dock, but he did not react at once. None of them did.
They assumed no one would be foolish enough to attack such a group, and anyone approaching was probably someone who wanted to join or trade.
A moment later, the sound arrived: a heavy, rhythmic stomping that made the planks underfoot tremble. The whole crew turned and looked in the direction of the noise, puzzled by how loud it was without the source yet being visible.
"How can you hear that much stomping before you even see the thing? How big must the person be?" Shiki said, tilting his head toward the tree line where the noise grew louder.
"Maybe they are making the sound to prove how strong they are," Don Marlon suggested, shrugging as if that was the sensible explanation.
"Who would advertise like that?" Ganzui muttered, partly laughing. Around them, the rest of the crew organized into a loose circle, eyes fixed on the spot where the figure would appear.
Rocks smiled and shifted, preparing for the possibility of a fight, while Newgate, Stussy, Ochoku, and the others watched with that mix of boredom and readiness common among seasoned fighters. Thor simply gripped his weapon and waited.
When the figure finally stepped into view, the entire deck fell quiet. Thor's initial confidence vanished in a second, replaced by a sharp recognition.
The woman standing on the shore had a shock of odd pink hair, an exaggerated stature, and an outfit that looked like it had been designed to intimidate and charm at the same time.
Perched on her shoulder was a small, familiar companion that Thor knew from stories and scratched memories. Everything about her announced a name the crew had heard a thousand times.
For a beat, no one spoke. Then someone on the deck named her. "It cannot be," one of the pirates whispered. "That is Charlotte Linlin."
Hearing the name tightened Thor's jaw. Linlin was a living legend of the New World and a figure with a savage past.
He remembered the stories of what she had done near Elbaph long ago, how one of the earliest victims of her rampage had been a partner of their oldest warriors. The memory of that cruelty was not small, and Thor's grudge was real.
Linlin did not waste time with introductions. She raised her voice across the water and shouted a challenge that made the crew lean forward. "Rocks," she called, loud enough that the words cut clear through the morning, "I challenge you to a Davy Back Fight. If I win, I will take your giant crew member as part of my crew."
Rocks' grin widened as the offer landed. A victory here would mean adding a giant of tremendous strength to his roster. He stood and answered without hesitation, his own voice steady and amused. "You know the rules. If you lose, you will be under my command for as long as I live."
Both sides understood the stakes. The Davy Back Fight was not a simple duel; it was ritual, pride, and bargaining all rolled into one dangerous game. The surrounding pirates shifted, sensing the tension that comes before major action.
Thor, who had been tightening his grip on his weapon since the moment Linlin stepped out of the trees, suddenly moved as if to step forward.
He began to shape Stormbreaker, shifting it into its Mjolnir form and feeling the hammer peel and harden with a sound that drew eyes back to him. The motion carried a warning.
Before Thor could step fully into the water toward her, Rocks rose and placed himself between Thor and Linlin.
He did not shout or make a show of it. He simply looked at Thor with a measured expression and then at Linlin, then folded his arms and smiled in that dangerous way he wore so easily.
The rest of the crew watched, waiting to see whether the captain would allow his new giant to take the field or whether he would use the chance to demonstrate control and claim greater profit from the coming match.