It used its forked tongue to contentedly scoop up the amber liquid in the wine bowl, tilted its head back to gulp it down with a "glug, glug, glug" sound, and even let out a satisfied purr that sounded like muffled thunder!
"That is... a Sea King? It is... drinking alcohol?!" Uta forgot her fear, lifting her head from Yamato's shoulder. Her small mouth was slightly agape, her beautiful eyes wide, and her face was frozen in a daze as if her worldview had been shattered for the second time.
"No... that is not right!" Yamato's perception was sharper, and her gaze instantly locked onto the top of that massive Sea King's head!
There, between the rugged, mountain-like keratinous layers and the drifting seaweed, a figure—tiny as a speck of dust compared to the Sea King, yet exceptionally distinct and steady as a mountain—was sitting there casually.
The man was dressed in simple attire, his posture relaxed. In his hand, he seemed to be holding a "wine glass" of the same style as the Sea King's, just miniature in proportion, and he was sipping from it just as leisurely. The roaring wind and waves, and the violent jolting caused by the swimming Sea King beneath him, seemed to have nothing to do with him.
The afterglow of the sunset happened to pierce through the smoke, gilding him with a pale golden outline.
Although he was still far away and his face was blurred, that unique temperament, along with the outrageous act of taming a Sea King to use as a mount—
"Mr.... Ron?!" Yamato blurted out, her voice filled with incredible surprise and a tremor of relief.
The former Admiral candidate, the host of the God-level Entertainment System, the source of this wind of change sweeping across the world—
Ron,
At the moment when the battlefield was plunged into the deepest despair and chaos,
With an air of leisure that was almost like being on vacation,
Riding a Sea King that was drinking alcohol,
He made his entrance!
...
The sea breeze, carrying the scent of smoke and blood, swirled over the scorched battlefield of Elegia. Akainu's magma, Aokiji's ice, the shockwaves from the clash of Haoshoku—all these earth-shattering energetic clamors were, at one moment, forcibly interrupted by that overly absurd scene on the distant sea.
The first to notice the anomaly was Shanks.
His gryphon had just been churning in Satan Saint's chest, attempting to completely destroy that heart which was no longer immortal. The sensation of rules breaking transmitted from the sword's edge had him fully focused, but at this moment, his top-tier Observation Haki captured a completely unfamiliar, yet exceptionally "calm" fluctuation.
It was not killing intent.
It was not hostility.
It was not even any aura related to this life-and-death struggle.
That feeling... it was like someone had set up a lounge chair at the edge of the battlefield and opened a bottle of fine wine.
Shanks' sword momentum paused imperceptibly for an instant. It was this thousandth-of-a-second opening that caused the dying Satan Saint to let out a shrill screech, its remaining four spider legs struggling wildly, spraying foul black blood like a fountain.
"Red Hair—!" Saint Nusjuro, in his transformed form, seized the opportunity, his fangs wrapped in the poisonous mist of the underworld as he charged fiercely.
Shanks withdrew his sword to defend, but his gaze went past Saint Nusjuro's massive body and cast toward the sea level.
He saw it.
At the edge of the battlefield, Kaido, who was grappling with Saint V. Warcury, saw his dragon pupils contract sharply.
"Hmm...?"
The dragon race's vision was several times wider than a human's. He could clearly see that Sea King—it was not an ordinary Sea King, but the legendary ancient species "Hippopotamus Sea King" that only slept in the depths of the Calm Belt. It was over five thousand meters long, its spine like a continuous mountain range, and every texture on its skin recorded a thousand years of time.
And this creature was currently opening its mouth, using its forked tongue to scoop up a transparent wine bowl larger than a Marine warship, sipping slowly. The wine flowed down the corners of its mouth, stirring up intoxicating ripples on the sea surface.
Even more bizarre was that a human was sitting on top of the Hippopotamus Sea King's head.
The man even had his legs crossed, holding a normal-sized glass in his hand, the amber liquid inside glowing softly in the sunset. His other hand rested casually on his knee, his fingertips tapping rhythmically, as if he were enjoying some opera performance.
"Ron..." Kaido squeezed this name through his teeth, his dragon whiskers twitching unconsciously.
Of course he knew this person. The former Admiral candidate, the freak who created some "God-level Entertainment System" after being kicked out. Mobile phones, TikTok, honor of kings—these inexplicable things were corroding his Beasts Pirates at a terrifying speed. King had complained more than once that the underlings were secretly watching short videos during training.
But this person... why was he here?
In this... vacation-like posture?
"You're distracted, Kaido!"
Saint V. Warcury's roar was accompanied by a landslide-like impact. Kaido blocked in a rush, dragon scales shattering, blood splattering. But he still stared fixedly at the sea—the figure raised his wine glass and toasted him from afar.
The action was as casual as meeting an acquaintance in a tavern.
On the other side of the battlefield, Beckman, who was entangled with Saint Mars, tilted his gun barrel slightly.
As a top-tier sniper, he possessed a bird's-eye view of the battlefield. He had long noticed the anomaly on the sea, but it was not until this moment, when that person and Kaido "toasted each other from afar," that Beckman truly understood the weight of this anomaly.
That was not a coincidence.
It was not an accidental intrusion.
It was a kind of... declaration.
"Everyone." Beckman's lips did not move, but his voice was sent into the ears of every member of the Red Hair Pirates through some sound-transmission technique, "Three o'clock direction, sea area. Maintain vigilance, but—do not act for now."
Yasopp's sniper scope turned instantly, the crosshairs locking onto the figure on top of the Hippopotamus Sea King. His finger rested on the trigger, but he did not pull it. Because that person's aura... was too strange. There was no Haki fluctuation, no energy surge, not even the pressure of life intensity.
It was like a normal person.
But could a normal person sit on the head of an ancient Sea King and drink alcohol?
"Hey, hey... you've got to be kidding me, right?" The meat leg in Lucky Roux's hand was forgotten, grease dripping onto the ice, "That is... Ron? The guy who created mobile phones?"
Benn Beckman did not answer. He saw Aokiji's ice surface spreading at a subtle angle—not an attack, but a guide. The ice layer silently extended on the sea surface, as if paving a path of welcome.
And Aokiji himself stood at the edge of the ice with his hands in his pockets, the corners of his mouth beneath his hat brim curling into an extremely faint, unreadable arc.
The first to break this eerie silence, however, was Yamato.
"Mr. Ron—!"
She held Uta, standing at the boundary between the ice field and the sea, her voice exceptionally clear in the sea breeze. It was not a cry for help, not panic, but a kind of... shout of surprise at seeing an acquaintance.
Uta lifted her head from her shoulder, her red and white hair fluttering in the wind. She looked at the incredible scene on the distant sea, then at Yamato's glowing profile, and asked in a low voice: "You... know that person?"
"Yeah!" Yamato nodded vigorously, her eyes shining, "He is... um... anyway, he is a very powerful person! And he definitely has a way!"
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