The next morning, Marineford – Naval Headquarters, Dockyard.
Bryan's ceremonial guard from the West Blue had been up since dawn. Dressed in spotless new uniforms, rifles fitted with gleaming bayonets, they stood in perfect formation beneath the blazing sun—disciplined, sharp, and radiating military pride.
When a massive battleship bearing the hull code U019—larger even than a Vice Admiral's flagship—approached the dock, Bryan barked,
"Salute!"
In unison, the entire formation raised their arms. The synchronized precision of their salute was so flawless that even the surrounding Headquarters marines were left stunned.
On the battleship's deck sat a visual Den Den Mushi, transmitting every second of the scene live to the Five Elders in Mariejois.
Every face, every movement was under their observation.
When the ship finally docked, Darso descended the gangway. Even he couldn't hide his astonishment at the sight of Bryan's elite display.
He clapped the younger man on the shoulder and said warmly, "Governor Bryan, this is the ship the Five Elders have personally prepared for you. They hope you'll use it to bring good news back to the World Government as soon as possible."
Bryan snapped a crisp salute toward the Den Den Mushi.
"Bryan will not fail his mission!"
Darso nodded with satisfaction. For all Bryan's… eccentricities, the troops he commanded looked like paragons of discipline and loyalty.
"Fire the salute!"
At Bryan's order, the hundred-man formation raised their rifles and fired into the sky in perfect unison—an impressive, thunderous volley that echoed across the bay.
"Board the ship!"
At the command, the soldiers broke formation and jogged up the gangplank in quick, measured steps, every motion practiced to perfection.
Watching from a distance, even Sengoku frowned in reluctant admiration.
Could this man really be a generational military genius?
"Are those really soldiers from the West Blue?" murmured Fleet Admiral Kong, who shared Sengoku's skepticism but couldn't deny his surprise.
But what neither Kong, nor Sengoku, nor even the Five Elders realized—
was that the entire "honor guard" was for show.
Bryan had brought them solely to impress the top brass. They were parade soldiers—trained only to stand still, march neatly, and salute smartly.
They were, in truth, utterly useless in combat.
From Marineford, Bryan's fleet passed through the Red Line's undersea trench, emerging into the New World before veering west through the Calm Belt, finally entering the seas of the West Blue—the shortest and most direct route.
As the twin warships crossed the Calm Belt, the still waters stirred. Shadows rose from the depths.
A massive school of Sea Kings surfaced, their colossal forms circling the ships like predators scenting prey.
"Everyone back! Let me handle this—Lord Bryan, you—"
Before Shiryu of the Rain could even finish, Bryan had already leapt to the prow.
His eyes flashed, voice booming like thunder.
"GET LOST!"
A shockwave of pressure burst outward.
The air crackled.
The ocean trembled.
The Sea Kings froze mid-motion—then fled, plunging back into the depths with terrified roars, the water boiling in their wake.
Shiryu's hand, still clutching his sword, trembled violently.
That aura… Could it be—?!
His eyes widened in disbelief.
Conqueror's Haki.
Bryan possessed the legendary Haoshoku Haki, the mark of a born ruler.
And not just that—he wielded it with frightening mastery.
"L-Lord Bryan… You—you have Conqueror's Haki?!"
Bryan hid his grin, savoring the moment. About time someone recognized it.
Finally—someone who could appreciate him.
Keeping his tone cool and measured, he replied,
"Surprised? I suppose that's expected. But there's no need to make such a fuss. I told you before, didn't I? I'm a man with the bearing of an emperor."
Shiryu was still reeling—not just from the revelation, but from Bryan's restraint.
To think he kept this hidden all this time…
Even Impel Down's records hadn't mentioned this power. No one at Headquarters knew.
Not the Doves. Not the Hawks. No one.
As for the ceremonial troops trailing them—they were too ignorant to even recognize Haki, let alone understand what they'd just witnessed.
Bryan clapped Shiryu on the shoulder.
"Enough awe. Since you can recognize what you saw, then you should also understand—if I have the power of a king, I won't stop at being a Governor or even a Fleet Admiral. My ambitions… are far greater."
Shiryu lowered his voice, almost whispering.
"Lord Bryan… your ambition… is it to claim the world itself?"
Bryan smiled faintly, eyes glinting like steel.
"Follow me, Shiryu. I'll show you a world unlike any you've ever seen."
Once they'd cleared the Calm Belt and entered the West Blue, Bryan tore off his pristine "Justice" cloak and flung it aside, unbuttoning his jacket.
"Ugh, this heat is unbearable. Who wears a suit in weather like this?"
He loosened his tie, calling out to the nearby aides.
"Bring out the wine, the meat, and the fruit—and make sure it's cold! Add extra ice!"
"Yes, Lord Bryan!" The attendants rushed to obey, scurrying toward the galley.
The once-impressive "honor guard," meanwhile, had completely fallen apart—men lounging on deck, uniforms wrinkled, some already dozing off.
Shiryu stared, dumbfounded.
"Lord Bryan… what happened to them?"
Bryan shrugged lazily. "They're just for show. They can march and salute, but they're useless otherwise. Even the orderlies are worth more."
At that moment, the stewards returned, carrying trays of chilled fruit, wine, and freshly roasted meat.
"Come on, have a drink," Bryan said, raising his glass.
But Shiryu couldn't relax. He leaned forward anxiously.
"My lord… if your troops are all for show, then how do you plan to end the West Blue wars in two months? You promised the Five Elders…"
Bryan chuckled, downing his drink in one gulp.
"Relax. Everything's under control. After all—" he set the glass down, his eyes gleaming with calm confidence,
"—I'm a man born with the spirit of a king."
The spirit of a king, indeed.
But as he watched Bryan lounge lazily under the blazing sun, drinking beer and fanning himself, Shiryu couldn't help muttering inwardly—
The spirit might be there… but is that really a plan?
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