More than half a month passed in a relentless storm of battles, and at last, the one thousand and twenty-four qualifying spots were finalized.
Inside the Battle Pyramid, massive screens lit up with the faces of every successful contestant, their images densely packed together. Some were already famous across the seas, while others had risen from obscurity through sheer performance, quickly becoming the focus of heated discussion.
Anyone who made the list was, at minimum, considered a powerhouse of the Grand Line. Even the weakest among them possessed strength comparable to pirates with bounties exceeding one hundred million Berries. To stand out among so many swordsmen required far more than technique alone. Battle awareness, physical ability, and mastery of both Armament and Observation Haki were equally essential.
The tournament's rules further restricted Devil Fruit abilities unless they could be seamlessly integrated into swordsmanship. This ensured that the competition remained true to its core, elevating the value of pure sword skill.
Among the rising stars, young monsters like Shanks and Mostima drew particular attention. Despite their age, neither showed any disadvantage when facing Great Swordsmen, at least among the ordinary tier. Shanks, once an apprentice aboard the Roger Pirates, had stepped fully into the spotlight.
Though still very young, his strength was undeniable. His mastery of both types of Haki, combined with his natural combat instincts, allowed him to defeat a Great Swordsman outright. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that this rising star would become a dominant force on the seas.
At the same time, several members of the Nightfall Pirates distinguished themselves through consistent and dazzling performances. Laffitte, Mostima, Shiryu of the Rain, Redyat, and Pouf all left deep impressions through their battles.
Laffitte and Nelson had already returned from the Golden Sea, and this tournament served as the perfect stage for them. In their absence, Teach had dispatched Gar and several others to take over their previous responsibilities.
Among the crew, only Redyat had firmly stepped into the realm of Great Swordsmen. The rest remained at the Sword Master level, though many stood at its very peak. Fighters like Mostima, Shiryu, and Pouf had been trapped at that threshold for years.
This tournament, however, offered a rare opportunity.
Continuous battles against opponents of similar caliber could accelerate growth far more effectively than isolated training. Breaking through to Great Swordsman was not simply a matter of effort. It required timing, insight, and often a stroke of fortune.
Mostima, in particular, had spent years refining his weaknesses, balancing his skillset to prepare for this very moment. Shiryu's situation was similar. Though his strength had improved steadily through constant combat, the invisible barrier remained.
Teach had no doubt they would eventually break through. The only question was when. And in the current era, sooner was always better.
Five years had passed since the dawn of the Great Pirate Era, yet its true explosion had not fully arrived. The seas were already in turmoil, with events unfolding one after another. The Marines had shifted their focus toward the New World, but their suppression efforts in the Four Seas and Paradise yielded little success. Pirates continued to multiply.
Unlike the past, the New World was no longer cleanly divided among the Four Emperors. Instead, countless forces carved out territories, leaving unstable buffer zones between them. These chaotic regions became fertile ground for ambitious pirates seeking to rise.
The Nightfall Pirates stood as an exception, having already secured their position.
Once the first round concluded, a three-day rest period was granted.
This break served multiple purposes. Contestants needed time to recover, and the arenas, many of which had suffered damage, required repairs. Though only a handful of battlefields had been heavily affected, the scale of destruction demanded attention.
At the same time, the organizers restructured the next phase.
The margin for error tightened significantly. Each participant would now fight five matches. This adjustment not only reduced the overall duration of the tournament but also minimized exhaustion from prolonged combat schedules.
Even so, what truly captivated the audience lay ahead.
The battles between Great Swordsmen.
Those clashes would determine the title of "World's Strongest Great Swordsman," and compared to them, everything so far had merely been an appetizer.
Across the world, the impact of the tournament became increasingly evident. The performances of these elite swordsmen ignited a wave of enthusiasm. Swordsmanship schools saw a surge in students, and more people than ever aspired to walk the path of the blade.
Out of the remaining contestants, only one hundred and twelve would advance further.
The competition intensified drastically.
Without sufficient strength, even Sword Masters had no chance of advancing. From this point onward, every match carried immense weight. Some battles ended in an instant, while others stretched into grueling stalemates. Regardless of duration, the spectacle was exactly what audiences across the world craved.
In a private room within the Battle Pyramid, steam rose gently from a heated pool.
Shanks leaned back, his body submerged in the water, only his head above the surface. His expression was one of pure satisfaction.
"Haha, of course! No problem at all," he said cheerfully into the Den Den Mushi. "This place feels amazing."
On the other end of the call, his crew watched through a visual transmission, their expressions filled with envy. They were currently stationed on Beast Island alongside the Buggy Pirates.
"Boss, when we get to the New World, you've got to treat us to this too," Lucky Roo said, staring at the screen while holding a roasted leg that suddenly seemed far less appealing.
"Of course," Shanks replied without hesitation. "Nothing beats soaking like this after a fight."
A snort followed immediately.
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Shanks," Buggy's voice cut in, dripping with disdain. "You Red-Haired Pirates are practically beggars. Can you even afford this kind of luxury?"
Despite his words, the bitterness in his tone was unmistakable.
The Battle Pyramid's services were famously extravagant. Medicinal herbs infused into the baths provided tangible benefits to the body, making the experience not only relaxing but restorative. The cost was steep, but for those who could afford it, the value was undeniable.
At present, Shanks enjoyed these services for free as a tournament participant. Once the event concluded, that privilege would disappear.
"Shanks," Benn Beckman's calm voice came through, cutting past the banter. "How are things progressing?"
Shanks opened his eyes slightly, a spark of excitement flashing within them.
"It's great," he said. "I've met a lot of strong swordsmen. There's one in particular, Mihawk. We get along pretty well. If there's a chance, I'll introduce you."
He paused briefly, then smiled.
"I can feel it. That barrier won't hold much longer. Once I break through, I'll have my ticket to the final stage. As for the title… that might not be mine, but that's fine."
Even Benn Beckman's usually composed expression shifted slightly at those words.
The rest of the crew reacted similarly.
They all understood what Shanks meant.
His goal in entering the tournament had never been the title itself. It was to break through and step into the realm of Great Swordsmen. Once he achieved that, his strength would surge dramatically, and their chances of establishing themselves in the New World would increase significantly.
Because soon, they would head there.
And the New World, in its current state, was chaos incarnate.
Beyond the territories of major powers, countless smaller regions were fiercely contested. Any crew capable of claiming an island already possessed formidable strength. Yet for pirates with true ambition, such places were only stepping stones.
Eventually, they would clash with the giants of the sea.
Perhaps even the Emperors themselves.
Unbeknownst to many, Shanks' growing reputation had already reached Marine Headquarters.
The fact that he had arrived in the New World alone raised immediate concern. The absence of his crew revealed their location remained somewhere in Paradise, prompting the Marines to intensify their search.
Their objective was clear.
Eliminate the Red-Haired Pirates before they could fully rise.
To them, Shanks' potential mirrored that of the Nightfall Pirates in their early days. Allowing such a force to grow unchecked was a risk they could not afford.
This intelligence, however, had already reached Shanks through Aunt Shakky.
And for now, he remained unconcerned.
The Calm Belt provided absolute safety, as the Marines still lacked the technology to embed Seastone into their ships. Though this would inevitably change with the presence of Vegapunk, that time had not yet come.
Meanwhile, the Nightfall Pirates quietly expanded their own operations.
Seastone, already a valuable resource, was being acquired in large quantities, particularly from Wano Country. Its unique energy properties made it indispensable for future plans.
At the same time, beneath the surface of this grand tournament, another silent war unfolded.
Spies.
Marine agents, World Government operatives, and even members of CP0 had infiltrated Parage Island and the surrounding territories. The convergence of countless forces created the perfect environment for infiltration.
They believed themselves hidden.
They were wrong.
Teach's Observation Haki blanketed vast stretches of sea. Through years of refinement, he could filter noise, detect emotional fluctuations, and identify subtle traces of intent. Combined with the abilities of Redyat and Pito, very few could truly escape detection.
Some spies had already been eliminated.
Others were deliberately left alive.
If every agent vanished, the World Government would grow suspicious. Maintaining a controlled balance allowed Teach to manipulate the flow of information instead.
After all, intelligence networks could always be rebuilt.
But Teach had no intention of merely defending.
He was waiting.
Waiting for a specific Devil Fruit.
The Memory-Memory Fruit.
An ability capable of reading, altering, and erasing memories.
Once obtained, it would change everything.
Spies would no longer be a threat. They would become assets. The very intelligence agencies of the Marines and the World Government could be infiltrated, replaced, and turned from within.
And when that day came, the balance of power would shift in ways the world could not yet imagine.