Sakazuki shook his head, tossing those thoughts out of his mind.

It was still too early—everything was just beginning.

Then he remembered the gift he had prepared for Karol.

He turned and walked toward the bookshelf.

He picked up a longsword wrapped in red cloth.

And handed it to Karol.

Sakazuki chuckled softly:

"This is a gift for you."

Karol accepted the longsword wrapped in red cloth.

He gently stroked it.

Slightly surprised:

"What a sharp aura..."

"The owner of this blade..."

"Must've been a master swordsman."

Sakazuki smiled:

"Not just a master swordsman, but also a top-tier Conqueror's Haki wielder."

Something came to mind—Karol's eyes widened:

"Could it be?!"

Sakazuki said:

"Open it and take a look."

Karol couldn't wait and quickly tore off the red cloth.

A trace of amazement flashed through his eyes:

"One of the 21 Great Grade Swords..."

"The sword of the Golden Lion..."

"Oto."

Rather than calling it a sword, it was more like a longsaber.

A double-edged longsword, nurtured through the Golden Lion's years of conquest.

Even without a wielder, it emanated a sharp, fierce aura just resting there.

Karol drew the longsword from its sheath.

With a casual flourish, without using much force—

A sharp sound sliced through the air, and a faint blade of wind shot out, striking the surrounding furniture.

This indirectly showed how terrifying the sword's edge was—along with the Golden Lion's misfortune.

A top-tier Conqueror's Haki user, a man who could split the seas with a single strike.

Golden Lion—an offense-focused powerhouse with weak defenses.

During the Skegli Naval Battle, he fought alongside Frank and Whitebeard—one weakened, the other aging—against three monstrous Marines.

His Conqueror's Haki didn't help. His sword aura couldn't break through their defenses.

He could only rely on his last vestige of air superiority to maneuver.

Most of his fleet was destroyed in the aftermath.

After painstakingly rebuilding, he was betrayed by Sakazuki.

Then Garp and Sengoku slammed him with full force right to the face...

Sometimes, you really had to admire the Golden Lion.

That indomitable will.

The ambition and courage to conquer the world, dating all the way back to the Rocks era.

Even in the original timeline, he hid in the shadows for 20 years.

And the plan he launched at the beginning of the story...

He failed time and again, yet he never gave up.

Crippling head injuries, both legs lost.

From the moment he dreamed of conquest to the day he died—

Across decades of time—

His goal never wavered....

Shing!

The blade slid smoothly back into its sheath.

Karol smiled happily and said:

"Thank you, Vice Admiral Sakazuki."

Sakazuki smiled:

"As long as you like it."

"Come on, let's go see Enel."

"It's been over a month—we're all rusting over."

"By the way, what day is it today?"

Karol said:

"Today's February 6th."

Sakazuki nodded:

"We set sail on the 7th!"

Karol's face instantly drooped:

"Ehhh!!!"

...

The Grand Line, a small island near Marineford.

Boom!

A deafening explosion echoed through the air.

Garp's warship was docked at the shore.

The soldiers onboard were watching a distant figure in astonishment:

"Whoa, whoa, that's insane."

"How many has it been now?"

"That's the sixth one already."

"Man, Vice Admiral Garp's stamina is on another level."

"He's been at it for four days straight without stopping."

"Unbelievable!"

In the center of the island, beneath a half-demolished mountain—

Garp grinned widely.

He stared at the base of the mountain, and suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

He raised his bloodstained fist.

No Haki applied—just pure instinct.

He punched the mountain.

A burst of energy surged forth.

Destroying the mountain from within.

Boom!

A cylindrical shockwave blasted straight through the mountain.

From Garp's vantage point, through the fist-sized hole—

He could even see a sliver of light on the other side.

Garp suddenly burst into laughter:

"That's it!"

"Hahahahahahahaha!"

"Just you wait, Chinjao."

"Let's see how I smash your skull in!"

Garp recalled the pirate he encountered while searching for Sengoku—

Don Chinjao, pillar of the Happo Navy.

In previous battles, Garp had always relied on his monstrous physique and immense Armament Haki to overpower opponents.

With the sheer volume of his Haki, he didn't bother with finesse.

His strikes were wide, powerful, and overwhelming.

But that encounter with Chinjao...

Despite having far less Haki—

Chinjao used pinpoint precision and internal striking techniques.

And broke through Garp's Armament Haki.

Though the difference in Haki reserves meant Chinjao couldn't defeat him—

Garp didn't get the win either.

It was an unresolved fight.

And that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

So, the two proud warriors agreed to meet again—

In the North Blue.

Boom!

Another punch blasted out. Another fist-sized hole appeared.

If you looked closely, you'd notice—

It was slightly smaller than the last one...

The mountain-shattering training continued.

Behind Garp stood five massive piles of rubble.

From far to near, they decreased in size...

...

West Blue, at the archaeological holy land, Ohara.

In a cottage far from town.

A few young scholars had just seen off a female doctor who had helped deliver a baby.

One of them tried to return inside.

But a companion held him back and shook his head. The man sighed softly.

They stopped at the door, pulled out some books, and began studying something.

Quietly waiting for the woman inside.

Inside the room—

Nico Olvia, with white hair, lay weakly on the bed.

She looked at the baby beside her, whose face faintly resembled both herself and her late husband.

She didn't know if giving birth to this child was right or wrong.

Because everything she was about to do... had been deemed forbidden by the World Government.

She didn't know what the future held—but her husband had died because of it.

She held no illusions.

But she couldn't let her husband's bloodline end.

The expedition team was already forming, and time was running out...

But for this child, it was far too cruel...

Looking at the infant who bore a trace of her husband's features:

"I'll name you Robin."

"Nico Robin."

She gently rubbed Robin's little cheek.

And as if sensing the warmth—

Robin leaned forward and pressed her face against Olvia's cheek in return.

Olvia could no longer hold back her tears.

Choking with emotion, she muttered:

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

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