Whitebeard threw his head back and laughed as he slowly rose to his feet.
Beneath the moonlight, his towering frame looked impossibly large, his shadow spreading across almost the entire cliff like a mountain, pressing down on everyone with a powerful sense of weight.
"Ron, you brat! You've stirred up this stagnant sea until it's livelier than one of my banquets! Gurararara!"
Whitebeard's laughter was bold and hearty, filled with recognition and admiration for Ron.
Wave after wave crashed against the steep cliffs, roaring endlessly.
The flags of the Eternal Divine Kingdom flew high above every ship, snapping sharply in the wind.
Under those banners, across this sea that had once been ruled by chaos and violence, a twisted yet entirely new order was slowly being born through blood and fire, like the first light of dawn.
It might not be perfect, but it carried endless possibility and hope.
It marked the arrival of a completely new era.
...
Red Line, Pangaea Castle, Hall of Power.
At the heart of Pangaea Castle, the Hall of Power controlled the entire situation like a beating heart.
At that moment, a crystal chandelier hung high beneath the dome.
Its dazzling yet faintly cold light poured down without restraint, casting twisted, eerie shadows over the five gloomy faces below.
Those shadows swayed with the flickering light, as though whispering of the storm to come.
As everyone held their breath, a projection Transponder Snail began to operate, displaying the latest footage that had just arrived.
In the image, the once-infamous Bonebreaker Pirates—whose name had been enough to make people tremble—were now all wearing badges that symbolized the Eternal Divine Kingdom.
They appeared aggressively in a certain stretch of the New World, methodically surrounding and attacking another pirate crew that also survived by raiding merchant ships.
The scene was bloody and violent, yet somehow carried an absurd quality that made it even harder to accept.
"What kind of joke is this…"
Saint Jaygarcia Saturn could no longer suppress the shock and anger in his heart.
With a heavy thud, he slammed his cane against the floor.
That seemingly simple strike contained overwhelming force. Under the impact, the hard marble tiles instantly cracked like fragile spiderwebs, fractures spreading outward as though even the earth had been shaken by his sudden rage.
His already-clouded pupils contracted violently, reflecting the arrogant figures of those pirates on the screen.
They raised their weapons high, shouting the ridiculous slogan, "For Eternal Justice!"
Their voices came through the projection and into the hall, sounding especially grating.
"Those damned pirate scum…"
Saturn's voice was hoarse and low, like rusted gears grinding against each other.
Every words was filled with disbelief and disgust.
"They are actually helping them maintain public order?! This is a blatant trampling of the entire world order!"
Beside him, Saint Ethanbaron V. Nusjuro, the Warrior God of Finance, who was usually calm and rational, now had his gold-rimmed glasses slipping down to the tip of his nose.
Data from the latest statistical report flashed across the lenses, and those terrifying numbers turned his face ashen.
He gripped the report tightly, crushing the paper into wrinkles with his fingers.
"Already… more than sixty percent of pirate crews have gone over to the Eternal Divine Kingdom…"
He forced the words out with difficulty, each one seeming to squeeze through his teeth, revealing the fury and worry buried deep inside him.
"Just last week alone, seventeen member nations secretly submitted trade agreements to them… This is outright betrayal!"
At the same time, the teacup that had been resting peacefully on the table before Saint Marcus Mars, the Warrior God of the Environment, suddenly shattered without warning.
Scalding black tea sprayed out like a fountain, spreading across the flawless white tablecloth in a glaring red stain.
The vivid color stood in sharp contrast to the tense, oppressive atmosphere around them, as though foreshadowing an even greater crisis.
"The most troublesome part is that 'Devil Fruit allocation system'…"
Saint Topman Warcury, the Warrior God of Justice, frowned slightly.
A trace of worry showed in his deep gaze as his fingertips tapped rhythmically against another secret report spread out on the table.
Each tap seemed to strike against everyone's nerves.
"Look at this. Those pirate captains who submit to them can receive a precious Devil Fruit as long as they prove their loyalty. As for officers and executives, they are issued artificial Zoan abilities. Conditions like these… the temptation is far too great."
At that moment, the cold, hard blade at Saint Warcury's side produced a harsh metallic scrape as he moved.
The sound stood out sharply in the silent hall, like some ominous sign.
His gaze was fixed on the enormous screen before him.
On it was clear, real-time surveillance footage of a peaceful town somewhere in the North Blue.
In the image, a group of pirates wearing the striking armbands of the Eternal Divine Kingdom were busy helping fishermen repair worn-out fishing nets.
Their movements looked sincere and friendly, and warm smiles hung on their faces.
The simple fishermen, full of gratitude, bowed respectfully to thank them.
It seemed like a harmonious and beautiful scene.
But in the eyes of everyone present, it was strange and dangerous beyond words.
"They are rewriting the definition of 'pirate'…"
Warcury grew more agitated.
Without realizing it, his fingers tightened until the armrest beneath them bent badly out of shape, his knuckles turning white from the force.
His voice was low and hoarse, carrying fear and anger he could no longer fully hide.
"If this continues… the consequences will be unimaginable!"
Just then, Saint Shepherd Ju Peter, the Warrior God of Agriculture, who had remained silent all this time, suddenly rose to his feet.
The old scar on his chin had turned purple-red from the surge of emotion, shining as though it might split open and bleed at any moment.
With heavy steps, he slowly walked toward the hanging world map.
Everyone's eyes followed him.
On the map, the red markings representing the Eternal Divine Kingdom were spreading toward every sea at an astonishing speed, like a rampant plague.
Those shocking patches of red seemed almost ready to swallow the entire Grand Line.
No one spoke again.
A suffocating silence filled the air.
But everyone knew it clearly in their hearts.
The Grand Line, which had been ruled for eight hundred years and carried countless glories and dreams, was now changing at a terrifying speed, gradually taking the shape desired by the Eternal Divine Kingdom.