Brook, the Overlord of the New World, and Odin, the King of Giants from Elbaf—the world's mightiest warrior nation—stood face to face, their auras colliding like thunderclouds in the sky.
Odin had reigned for centuries. His Conqueror's Haki was honed through time, battle, and legacy. Brook, however, was a man who defied time itself—a traveler from another era with titanic ambition and momentum that surged like a tidal wave. He had risen at breakneck speed, aggressive and unrelenting.
Neither of them was willing to back down.
Their Conqueror's Haki clashed violently, stirring whirlwinds around them. This wasn't just a contest of strength—it was a clash of authority, will, and presence.
But the sea is not ruled by strength alone.
Fighting skills are one thing. Power, another. But to truly reign over this world, one needs more—alliances, resources, an unshakable foundation. Influence.
Brook's Haki began to overwhelm King Odin. Just as the giant king was preparing to retaliate with a surge of his own, four more waves of Conqueror's Haki erupted from behind Brook—each one terrifying in its force. The sky darkened as the five overlapping wills surged outward like a tempest.
King Odin's eight-legged white horse collapsed under the pressure, its knees buckling as it whinnied in agony. Foam poured from its mouth, its eyes rolled back, and it crashed to the ground in spasms.
Odin was forced to dismount, the wind knocked from him. He gritted his teeth, refusing to bow—but the pressure was too much. His skin paled. His breath turned shallow.
A magnitude 10 earthquake might as well have gone off in his chest.
The Hell Pirates… had five users of Conqueror's Haki. Not just awakened ones—but elite-level ones, each more fearsome than the next. This wasn't some pack of greenhorn Rookies; this was a gathering of monsters.
He'd heard rumors… but now, standing beneath their presence, he finally understood.
"This shouldn't be possible," Odin thought. "Conqueror's Haki doesn't grow like this… not this fast… not this many."
He couldn't process it.
But he could acknowledge it.
"…Captain Brook truly is blessed. So many powerful subordinates…"
With that, Odin retracted his Conqueror's Haki, signaling surrender. There was no point in pushing further. In both individual and collective might, the Hell Pirates held the high ground.
This confrontation ended with no battle—but a clear victor.
To oppose the Hell Pirates… would bring nothing but disaster.
Odin made his choice.
"King Odin is powerful," Brook said with a smile. "If you'd chosen the pirate path, you might've become a rival to legends—maybe even built a crew on par with the Ice Demon Pirates."
But Odin was no pirate. He was a king. The legitimate ruler of the world's strongest nation. Becoming a pirate, a title loathed by both gods and men, was never his path.
"Enough small talk," Odin grunted. "Hand over Chital and my soldiers."
He had accepted this outcome. But he still needed to confirm one thing—had Brook mistreated his men?
"Thank you for the gift, first."
Brook smiled, ignoring words like "ransom" or "compensation." He called it a gift, giving the giants the dignity they deserved.
Meanwhile, Golden Lion Shiki had already begun transporting the Adam back to Golden Island in exchange for gold and berries.
Brook himself brought Chital forward. The general looked gaunt, clearly starved for days. The other captured soldiers were in better shape, but none had been tortured.
Whitebeard Newgate stepped forward with Kratos's Axe of the God of War—Chital's legendary weapon. Though reluctant, he handed it over without a word.
Brook nodded and extended his hand. "And thank you… for the Gungnir Steel."
He hadn't paid a single berry for it.
If Chital hadn't walked into their hands, Brook might never have gotten this mythical metal.
Odin produced a small pouch—inside, glittering black powder. A refined sampling of Gungnir, the sacred metal scraped slowly over decades from the Spear of Elbaf itself.
"Move your damned Hell Giant Soldier City farther away next time," Odin snapped. "I don't want to see it near Elbaf again."
Brook raised an eyebrow. "That's it?"
The pouch was disappointingly small—barely enough for a dagger, much less a weapon of war.
"It's Gungnir," Odin snorted. "It's harder and heavier than any human-made alloy. Do you think you can forge a full weapon from it? You'll need to fuse it with other rare metals. Current blacksmiths can't even temper it properly."
Brook examined the powder with a glint in his eyes. "Then how about I help you refine it? I'd be happy to polish the Spear of Elbaf myself~"
Odin scoffed. "You wish."
Meanwhile, Chital and the twenty-plus soldiers were escorted back to Odin's rear camp. Newgate tossed Kratos's axe beside them.
"If you want more Gungnir," Odin warned, "you'd better awaken a Flame-Flame Fruit or Magma Fruit user. Otherwise, that spear will remain untouched."
Brook laughed nervously. "Noted."
Shiki had successfully transported the Adam to the Golden Island, paid in full. The trade was technically fair. Odin had lost a bit of Gungnir, but no Adam. Still, he wasn't happy.
His pride had been dented.
If it weren't for Brook's overwhelming show of power, he would've gone to war right then.
"I heard you've got some excellent giant-forged weapons. Let's do some business," Odin offered bluntly.
The money from the Adam sale had little use in Elbaf's economy. Better to reinvest it locally. And truth be told, the craftsmanship of the Hell Pirates' weapons intrigued him.
From behind, Saul was fuming.
He had just watched Odin go from combat-ready to business partner.
"This is wrong…" Saul muttered. "We're the Navy. We can't let Elbaf cooperate with pirates!"
But he'd forgotten a crucial detail—Elbaf wasn't part of the World Government.
They could do whatever they wanted. The Navy had no authority here.
"King Odin!" Saul suddenly shouted. "The hostages have been returned. Now's the time! Join our Navy and crush the Hell Pirates while we have the advantage!"
The words pierced the air like daggers.
Brook didn't even blink.
But Odin… Odin felt the sting. Regret washed over him.
Earlier, he thought Brook might be like the Diger Pirates—strong, but manageable. He thought the Navy and Elbaf together could wipe them out.
But now?
Now he knew Brook wasn't some upstart pirate.
He was a storm.
And Saul, the fool, had just tried to drag that storm into Elbaf's front yard.
Odin exhaled deeply.
"…Bringing Saul here was a mistake."
------------------
The moment Saul shouted, all eyes turned to him. The atmosphere on the coastline of the Giant Village shifted—tense and heavy like a storm waiting to break.
Brook and the Four Great Fighters of the Hell Pirates all fixed their eyes on King Odin. Even the mighty King of Elbaf felt the weight of their gaze press down like a mountain.
"Don't mind him," Odin said, brushing Saul off with a wave of his hand. "He's just a young one—still brainwashed by Navy justice. I have no intention of fighting the Hell Pirates. Now get the weapons out. Don't waste any more time."
He just wanted to finish his purchases and leave. If the Navy really did arrive in force, Odin didn't want to be stuck choosing sides. He still wasn't sure if siding with the Navy against the Hell Pirates was even feasible.
"King Odin, you said yourself that you'd teach those arrogant pirates a lesson!" Saul barked again, stepping forward.
The air turned ice cold. Odin's jaw tightened.
This idiot…
Did he not see what Brook was capable of?
"You're a giant first, then a marine," Odin thought bitterly. "Why would you betray your own people like this?"
"Yohoho~ King Odin," Brook called down with his usual cheerful tone, though a sharp edge ran beneath it. "It sounds like you're not very fond of us. Are you planning to make a move after all?"
Brook's eyes flicked to Saul.
He recognized the orange-haired giant immediately—Jaguar D. Saul, the same man who had once saved Nico Robin and influenced Aokiji to spare her life. A member of the D clan, a man with his own brand of justice… and one who had once defied the Navy for what he believed in.
Every member of the D bore a flame of conviction. They'd follow that fire, even to their graves.
"I'm not happy with you," Odin admitted, "but I don't want to fight you either. Can't I just buy what I came for, fair and square?"
The King of Giants laid his cards on the table. No games, no deception—just blunt honesty. Sometimes, pretending not to see the truth was the only way to keep the peace. War would cost lives on both sides. And for what?
Brook chuckled. "You're direct, King Odin. I respect that. But you're not planning to use my weapons against me, are you? Tell you what—once we persuade the Navy to retreat, we can continue our business talks."
With a single gesture, he gave the order.
Golden Lion Shiki activated his ability, lifting the Hell Giant Soldier City into the sky.
Up and away they flew.
Brook knew the Navy had arrived. His sniper, Hiruba, had already seen them coming from across the sea with the power of his Fruit. No warship could sneak up on the Hell Pirates now.
Watching the massive floating fortress rise into the clouds, King Odin's expression darkened. The Hell Pirates were pulling out—clean, efficient, and without confrontation. And without even giving the Navy a chance to meet them.
How could you fight an enemy that refused to stand still?
Odin glanced sideways at Saul. If that fool had kept his mouth shut, if the transaction had just played out peacefully, they might have stalled long enough for the Navy to arrive.
But now… the Hell Pirates were gone.
Minutes later, the Navy fleet appeared on the horizon. Too late.
Two admirals—Coss Davo and Hoss—arrived at Elbaf with their task force. But the Hell Pirates were long gone, and no trace remained except distant clouds and fading Haki.
They had no target.
The Navy was left standing on Elbaf soil with nothing to do—and worse, no one to fight.
Both admirals felt the sting of helplessness. Brook's forces were too mobile, too well-informed. All they could do was look around and rethink their next steps.
Still, there was another reason for their visit: diplomacy.
This operation wasn't just about repelling the Hell Pirates—it was also a high-level push to persuade Elbaf to officially join the World Government. If they could forge an alliance, the Navy could legally recruit more giants into their ranks. That was the true endgame.
For the first time in history, so many high-ranking Navy officers had landed in Elbaf. But Odin's reception was lukewarm at best.
Though he disliked Brook, he also had no love for the World Government.
This was the New World, a pirate's playground. Becoming allies with the World Government would paint a giant bullseye on Elbaf's back. Pirates would come swarming in like sharks. It wasn't a risk Odin was eager to take.
Unless they were willing to evacuate Elbaf entirely and resettle under government protection—which was absolutely not going to happen.
Odin's plan had been to create a delicate three-way tension between himself, the Navy, and the Hell Pirates. Mutual deterrence. Balanced power.
But Brook didn't play that game.
He didn't fight. He didn't negotiate.
He just vanished.
And with that, Odin's strategy collapsed.
The two admirals were left stranded, unsure of what to do.
King Odin reluctantly offered hospitality. He didn't want to offend them, but he had no intention of taking them all the way to Titan King City. Instead, he invited them to stay at the old Giant Village on the coast.
During the feast, Admiral Hoss took a massive bite out of a roasted beast leg and leaned forward.
"King Odin, the Navy crossed thousands of miles to get here—not just for your generals' request, but because the Five Elders and the Fleet Admiral are deeply concerned for Elbaf's future."
He set the bone down and looked Odin in the eye.
"If you join the World Government, Elbaf will gain a seat at the Reverie, and be exempt from paying the Heavenly Tribute. A place at the table, without the burden."
Odin raised a brow.
"And when the pirates come swarming from the New World, can your Navy protect us forever?"
He didn't wait for a reply.
"If you two admirals want to stay here and act as permanent guardians, maybe we'll talk. Otherwise, don't bring ruin to our shores."
His tone was ice.
Admiral Hoss hesitated. The truth was, the Navy would never leave two admirals stationed permanently in a hostile zone like the New World. It was simply unrealistic.
"King Odin," Admiral Coss Davo interjected, "have you considered relocating? The Little Garden on the Grand Line is still an ancient island. It could house your people safely."
Odin narrowed his eyes.
"You really think I don't know what you're suggesting?" he growled. "That island might fit a few hundred giants at most. You want to strip Elbaf for its warriors and toss us on a ruin?"
That was it.
His patience had run dry.
At least Brook's offers came without false promises.
If this was how the Navy negotiated, then perhaps it was better to strengthen ties with the Hell Pirates. At least they understood what power meant.
The two admirals were left speechless.
Their grand mission ended with nothing but strained conversation and a makeshift camp on a cold coastal village.
Still, King Odin didn't close the door entirely.
He instructed John Jax to select a dozen promising young giants to join the Navy—including his own son, John Jaendo.
That would be the quota for decades.
Giants reached adulthood at sixty. Their recruitment was never going to be frequent.
But at least the Navy wouldn't return empty-handed.
A handful of recruits was all they'd get.
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