"Unite?"
Judge heard Rowan's words and initially showed no reaction, remaining calm for a moment as if deep in thought.
But after a short while, Judge suddenly slapped his thigh and burst into laughter.
"Hahahahaha, Ryan Rowan, I never imagined that dreamers could also become rulers eight hundred years ago!"
These words were undoubtedly unexpected by everyone present.
Even the clone soldiers nearby, after hearing Rowan's "story," couldn't help but feel a sense of fear towards the so-called "tree."
As long as that tree existed, the world would sooner or later become its nourishment!
Even the Germa 66 clone soldiers, who had no fear of death, absolutely did not want to see such a terrifying outcome.
Because at that time, even their absolute core, Germa 66, would be completely annihilated!
Therefore, they didn't understand why their commander was acting this way.
He hadn't even considered it seriously, instead calling Ryan Rowan a dreamer? It seemed he had never thought about the possibility of uniting!
Why?
They asked themselves in their hearts, but dared not speak their questions aloud.
"Why?"
Rowan was indeed a bit curious, but unlike the clone soldiers, he directly asked.
"You seem to have no reason to refuse."
"No reason… is that so?"
Judge raised his eyebrows and pondered, as if thinking about how to answer Rowan's question.
After a moment, he looked up and slowly said:
"I have never doubted your words, Ryan Rowan, never."
"There are some people in this world who disdain lying, and you are one of them."
"And I have never doubted Nico Robin's interpretation of those ancient texts. The sole survivor of Ohara, a thorn in the World Government's side, is a reliable person."
"So what I am about to say is based entirely on the premise that everything you have told me is 'fact.'"
Judge's expression gradually turned serious, as if his identity as a scientist had faded, replaced by the commander of Germa 66 who ruled the North Blue with terror.
"That tree has used the entire world as nourishment for who knows how many years, and the world will eventually be destroyed and vanish because of it."
"—This is a predetermined fact."
"If that so-called 'destruction and vanishing' were to happen tomorrow, or even in an hour, let alone Germa 66, even if you united with the Marines, Whitebeard, and the World Government, I'm sure they would agree immediately."
"But the crux of the matter is, the 'destruction and vanishing' will not happen so quickly."
Judge extended his hand, lightly sifting through the sand on the sand table.
"Ancient texts—no one knows how many years these texts have existed, but they are at least older than us, and older than you, an emperor from eight hundred years ago."
"The people who created the ancient texts discovered the threat of that tree and eventually left behind information."
"So why did they leave information?"
"If a farmer finds weeds in his field, the first thing he would do isn't to write a diary recording 'I saw a weed today,' right? It would be to immediately pull it out."
"Therefore, there might only be one answer—"
Judge answered his own question:
"Because they discovered that they couldn't deal with that 'weed,' meaning they couldn't cut down that tree!"
"Even though the creators of the ancient texts possessed powerful technology capable of manufacturing ancient weapons, they still couldn't cut down that tree!"
"The people living in ancient times were not different, and neither was Shandora eight hundred years ago; they couldn't do it either!"
"This is not hard to imagine, is it? They poured all their efforts into deciphering the ancient texts and ultimately uncovered the truth of the matter."
"But the result of their efforts was only two words on it—"
"Run."
"They told us to 'run,' not to 'keep trying' with an unwilling spirit!"
"What is the reason why?"
"Because the ultimate outcome is despairing."
"They poured all their effort into it, and still couldn't achieve ancient weapon-level attacks."
"Otherwise, this world wouldn't only have legends of ancient weapons, but there would have been Shandora weapons passed down."
"Shandora eight hundred years ago, just like those who created the ancient texts—they failed."
"And it was a complete defeat, with no hope left!"
Judge's words caused the clone soldiers present to feel their hearts sink little by little.
That's right.
Even the "ancients" who mastered ancient weapons couldn't fight that great tree.
The residents of Shandora, who built the glorious Golden City, also couldn't deal with that great tree.
How could they, who hadn't even touched the shadow of an ancient weapon, accomplish what their predecessors couldn't?
But Rowan's voice rang out.
He looked at Judge and smiled.
"None of these are the key issues, are they?"
"Correct."
Judge nodded without hesitation.
"Because if someone had a knife to your throat, even if that person was Whitebeard, you would undoubtedly fight back without hesitation."
"Because if you don't fight back, you die!"
Judge stroked his chin and changed the subject.
"But the current situation is that the 'knife' hanging over your neck—the time it will fall."
Judge said slowly:
"How many years have passed since those who created the ancient texts lived? At least a few thousand years!"
"—They waited for thousands of years."
"And how many years have passed since those in Shandora lived? Eight hundred years."
"—In other words, they waited eight hundred years!"
"If we unite now, how many years will we have to wait?"
This question caused the sounds on the Germa Kingdom's deck to fall silent.
A deathly silence!
Because this was indeed an angle that no one had considered.
It was like a time bomb.
This bomb was set to detonate at some point an hour later, killing everyone.
This current situation meant that within "fifty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds," the time bomb was absolutely safe!
This was the current state of that tree.
As far as eight hundred years ago, or even thousands of years ago, the fuse of that tree—that time bomb—had been lit.
Theoretically, that tree could devour the entire world at any moment.
But thousands of years passed, eight hundred years passed, and the world still existed.
How long can "life" exist in this world?
Perhaps only a little over a hundred years.
Even the longest-lived among the humanoid races, the giants, only lived a few hundred years.
The giants who were active in the world eight hundred years ago have now only turned to dust.
Judge stated his conclusion:
"If we don't provoke that tree, perhaps until we die—until our descendants die—until the powers we created are gone, that tree will have no effect on us."
Judge's voice was low, and he slowly asked:
"In that case, what is the point of resisting?"
"What does something that might happen in a few thousand years have to do with us?"
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