Without a boat, forging an ice path across the sea on foot was far slower and more cumbersome than sailing.
It took nearly ten days before Ryoma finally glimpsed the strange island crowned with colossal cactus-shaped peaks.
One of the seven starting points of the Grand Line: Whiskey Peak.
Still, the journey hadn't been idle. Besides traveling, he'd spent every spare moment poring over the Haki notebook Crocus had given him.
Coupled with his previous first-hand experiences with Armament Haki, he'd finally found the threshold, condensing that invisible force and coating his body with it. Though hardly refined, he was no longer helpless against a Logia user.
The thrill of growing stronger never got old, yet Observation Haki remained a complete mystery.
Ryoma guessed that after relying on mana for so long to probe every breeze around him, his body clung to that old pattern. It was utterly different from the 'listening to the voice of all things' that Observation Haki demanded.
The two methods felt similar enough in effect to keep him locked in his habits, blocking the new awareness.
Perhaps he needed a battle intense enough to force a breakthrough?
Ryoma shook the thought away.
He wasn't some battle maniac with a death wish, out looking for trouble.
Threats in the first half of the Grand Line were few, better to let things unfold naturally.
His figure flickered across the ice and brought him to Whiskey Peak's harbor.
From afar, he saw a noisy welcome party. Folk dressed as ordinary townsfolk waved flags, cheering and offering wine and food to newly arrived pirate ships.
Standing on the distant ice, Ryoma watched the farce in silence.
How stupid do you have to be to believe free lunches fall from the sky?
A town welcoming murderous pirates with open arms?
Even pirates used to running wild should keep some basic caution.
Anyone gullible enough to fall for this must be a miracle survivor of the Four Blues. The Four Blues Marine branches were even more useless than he'd thought.
At that moment, on the second-floor terrace of the tallest cactus building in Whiskey Peak, the local rich old man was all smiles as he nervously entertained two uninvited guests.
"Honored guests, try our special cactus brew, you won't taste it anywhere else." He personally poured for them.
Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine had been stuck here a while, irritation plain on their faces.
Miss Valentine twirled her parasol, bored. "This is mind-numbing. How long does boss want us stuck in this dump?"
Mr. 5 shoved his glass away, spilling wine across the table with an impatient grunt. "Who knows? A complete waste of our time."
The rich guy bowed, cold sweat trickling.
"High-Rank Agent, please be patient. The entrance to the Grand Line is unpredictable…"
A lookout rushed in.
"Report! The harbor… new prey at the harbor!"
He straightened his collar, suddenly official.
"How many? Which pirate fleet?"
The lookout gulped, voice trembling.
"J-just one. Looks like… drifting in from the sea, but…"
"But what!" Mr. 5 slammed the table. "Spit it out!"
The lookout almost dropped to his knees. "B-but… the figure looks like… like the bounty poster's… 'frost fairy' Ryoma!"
The terrace went dead silent.
The rich guy's smile froze, he might as well have been turned to stone.
Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine exchanged blank, puzzled looks. They'd been busy with Baroque Works induction. Promoted to High-Rank Agents and dispatched here, they'd missed recent news.
"Frost Fairy?" Miss Valentine tilted her head. "Sounds like a girl's nickname?"
"High-Rank Agents…"
The entertainer's voice rasped like sandpaper, back soaked. "That monster… we… we can't afford to provoke him."
Terror shook his body.
"We have to evacuate, right now."
CRACK!
Mr. 5's palm smashed the table to splinters. He grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him, eyes full of contempt.
"Worthless!"
He tossed the man aside and snorted. "A rookie fresh into the Grand Line scares you this badly? And he's alone? Do you even know what 'High-Rank Agent' means, huh?!"
His voice seethed, pride wounded.
The man, sprawled on the floor, looked as if every ounce of strength, and respect had been drained.
He pushed himself up. The usual ingratiating smile was gone, replaced by twisted terror.
"Of course I know!"
A hysterical roar tore from his throat, drowning the party below.
Mr. 5 and Miss Valentine flinched.
Red-eyed, the man pointed at Mr. 5 and screamed.
"Do you even know what kind of monster that is?!"
"That monster blocked Celestial Dragons in broad daylight at Loguetown and killed a Marine Headquarters vice-admiral! A 250-million-Berry bounty!" His voice turned shrill.
"How are we supposed to fight that?! A creature like that would never fall for our trap! Even if every soul on Whiskey Peak threw themselves at him, we couldn't scratch him!"
The despairing roar carried through the walls to every 'townsperson' near the harbor.
The festive cheers died.
The bounty hunters clinking cups with pirates froze.
After a heartbeat of silence, the crowd exploded.
Terrified shrieks replaced laughter and the grand welcome banquet became a frantic rout.