What kind of destruction can battles between the very strongest bring in this world?
Even though this was only a guidance bout between Magnus and Edward, under the Quake-Quake Fruit's terrifying power, a day and a night of coaching erased more than a third of the island's landmass.
The remaining body of the island looked like a beehive—huge hollows and rift valleys everywhere. Seawater poured in from all sides, announcing the island's final fate.
They watched from ships several kilometers away, but even at that distance the quakes churned the sea into towering waves, leaving the rookies aboard Edward's ship in shocked awe.
"So this is a fight between Captain Edward and Captain Magnus?"
"Scary!"
"I'll get this strong someday!"
…
Some were afraid, some were shaken—but some felt their fighting spirit blaze higher than ever.
What no one expected: after such a fierce clash, Magnus wasn't even breathing hard.
Kicking Moonwalk steps through the air, he one-handedly lugged Edward and dumped him back onto his own deck. "Oi, brats—look after your captain."
"Y-yes!"
"Right away, Captain Magnus!"
…
The rookies quaked. They weren't all new, but before an old monster who'd ruled the sea for decades, even nine-figure pirates were just "kids."
Edward lay spread-eagled on deck. His body was exhausted—but his spirit felt more alive than ever.
He'd gotten stronger again.
It wasn't only Rocks; as strength rose, Edward's growth had also begun to slow. Reaching Admiral class took a few years, but another step forward required effort many times that.
And in this world, only Magnus—and precisely Magnus—would coach them without reservation and help them grow.
Rocks, I'll stop you.
The more he felt Magnus's goodwill, the more Edward opposed Rocks's plan to challenge him.
They owed everything to Magnus.
He'd never demanded anything—even letting them leave the White Wolf Pirates to form their own crews.
A captain this good is rarer than gold in these seas.
So Edward felt displeased.
Rocks had his ambition—and Edward his ideal.
If those clashed—
Then I'll crush your ambition.
Thanks to Magnus's coaching, Edward now understood his fruit and his Haki on a deeper level.
If it were pure Haki, he still wasn't the match of top users like Magnus and Rocks—but once he fused Haki with his fruit power, he could even push back against Conqueror's infusion.
Besides, Conqueror's Haki—he had it too.
"Can I beat Rocks now?"
He remembered asking; Magnus had answered—
"When you can wield Conqueror's infusion and braid your fruit power into it—then forget Rocks. Even I'll be looking forward to going all-out against you."
Magnus hadn't said it outright, but the meaning was clear: he still wasn't Rocks's match—though it was close.
"Rocks—I'm catching up."
"Achoo!"
In the snowfields near the North Blue side of the New World, bare-chested Rocks sneezed.
"Which bastard is talking about me? Edward?"
He grumbled.
"With the old man's coaching, that punk's probably right on my heels."
As he grew stronger, Rocks felt his progress stall. Beyond hardening his body, his Haki hardly budged in half a year.
No surprise.
Haki grows only in battles with the strong—breakthroughs come only in life-and-death struggle.
Few could make him go all out now—and fewer still could force him to the brink.
Magnus, Imu, Harald.
These were, to Rocks's mind, the three strongest.
The absolute top were Magnus and Imu.
They hadn't truly fought, so Rocks couldn't say who was stronger—but he'd put a chip on the old man.
A decade ago, he figured, Magnus might have been weaker than he was now—
But today, even two of him wouldn't likely win.
For monsters like them—
The hard part isn't 1 to 90; it's 90 to 100.
Magnus's growth hadn't stalled at 90. After a long plateau around 89, he'd leapt like late-blooming thunder—from 90 to near 100.
In other words—
Magnus was brushing the world's ceiling.
"Am I supposed to admit defeat?"
Half their ten-year pact was already gone. At his current level, challenging Magnus meant a near-certain beatdown.
Unless he sparred with Harald daily.
Harald wasn't Magnus or Imu—but after eating the Azure Dragon fruit, he'd improved again. Rocks rated him third strongest.
But Harald and he weren't close; the man only obliged him out of respect for Magnus. Once or twice was fine; more would be shameless.
"No point overthinking it. Be honest—do you think we can beat your old crewmates?"
Seeing Rocks drift off, Barorick knew exactly what he was thinking—and had no faith in those grand ambitions.
"Shut it."
That only made Rocks's head throb.
"That's why I'm recruiting!"
"By 'recruiting' you mean smashing rookies' ships and forcing them aboard?"
Barorick rolled his eyes.
"What use are crew like that?"
Able to hear people's inner voices, Barorick knew the ones Rocks had dragged aboard seethed with resentment.
You couldn't trust them in a real fight—only watch your back for a knife.
"Then what do you suggest?"
"Do what your old captain did—raise your own."
"It's too late to start now."
Some of his older hands he had raised from scratch, copying Magnus's method. By now the strongest—Barorick—was a top big-name pirate.
The weaker ones at least had "big-name" strength.
But that took three full years.
The further you go, the harder growth gets. For many, "big-name pirate" is the ceiling. To go higher, you either ate a fruit or wrung deeper potential out of your body.
With five years left, Rocks's goals were: push himself further—and lift Barorick to his current level.
As for the rest, best-case: a few reach Admiral class.
Realistically, that was wishful thinking.
Beyond Barorick, the others would be lucky to hit top big-name levels.
And Magnus?
He had at least two with talent on par with Rocks's.
Plus Shiki—
Rumor said he'd surpassed Barorick already,
Nudging Admiral class.
No matter how Rocks spun it, raising rookies from zero now wouldn't catch Magnus before their duel.
Hence stealing people.
Anyone who made it through the first half into the New World already had some chops. You could skip the basics and go straight to Haki.
If the fundamentals were sound, learning Haki put one foot into the "big-name" door. A few death-matches later, maybe they'd grasp the advanced forms and become top dogs.
But that route would never win hearts.
Rocks even thought—fine, in five years I'll just challenge Magnus one-on-one.
These crewmates were a dead end.
He glanced around. One was blackout drunk; another was running a crooked card game; a third kept whining about the next island and how he "missed a girl's warm embrace."
To be honest, he missed it too.
He couldn't help recalling the old days bar-hopping with Edward.
Those days were gone.
That bastard was loyal to Magnus to the bone. If Rocks wanted to challenge Magnus, his biggest obstacle would be that once-closest comrade.
"We're about to hit Baldimore, right? Word is that punk Roger's hiding on this island!"
Rocks cursed.
He had waylaid some rookies right as they entered the New World, hoping to draft them.
After Barorick's advice, he'd dropped it.
Having started out in the White Wolf Pirates' tight-knit family, Rocks hadn't even noticed: now he instinctively protected his own.
Anyone who couldn't fit in and would only spoil the team—no matter how strong—was told to get lost.
As for why he'd clashed with the Roger Pirates—
Those idiots fired celebratory cannon the moment they reached the New World—while Rocks was sleeping. Thick fog hid his ship, and one shell snapped his mast.
If he swallowed that, he wasn't Rocks D. Xebec.
He answered in kind—
One flying slash split their ship in two.
He thought that'd be that.
But later, while his crew were ashore relaxing, the Roger brats sneaked in and torched his ship.
The grudge was sealed.
After a few fights, the Roger Pirates were clearly weaker overall and fell into disadvantage. Rocks even captured several of their hands.
But the core slipped away—
Including Roger—
And his left and right, Rayleigh and Gaban.
By now, Rocks was interested.
The Rocks Pirates weren't the strongest in the sea—that title belonged to the White Wolf Pirates.
But besides them, with a top powerhouse like Rocks and a second-tier ace like Barorick—
They were already a future Emperor crew.
After several clashes, the Roger Pirates still hadn't shattered like an egg on stone. That was enough to catch Rocks's eye—even make him consider absorbing them.
Thoughts were thoughts.
He'd found Roger's trail anyway. If they met, he'd beat them down—then ask if they wanted in.
No?
Then die.
He wasn't a saint—and they started it.
But when Rocks reached Karakuri Island, Baldimore, something was off.
"Too quiet."
He frowned and put everyone on alert.
"Barorick—can you 'see' anyone?"
"No."
For all his backtalk, Barorick never failed him when it mattered. His Observation couldn't find a single soul on the island.
Karakuri Island lies near the New World's entrance. Its claim to fame was technology far beyond other countries.
Many innovations spread from there.
Rocks knew Baldimore was a member state, and Magnus had long wanted them to withdraw and join the White Wolf Alliance.
The World Government could never tolerate that.
But Baldimore's in the New World—any big move would reach the White Wolf Pirates' ears.
Unless it was a small, elite op.
"The Holy Knights?"
Rocks didn't know what the Government had done. When he reached the towns of Baldimore, he found only ruins.
Across the entire town—or rather, the entire island—
Not a single person.
Everyone was gone.
(End of Chapter)
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