"I'll give him this: for a man with a 300-million-berry bounty, he put up a decent fight."
"You say that after you absolutely pulverized him," Scotch remarked, leaning against the railing. "I actually felt a little sorry for the guy."
Junxi shrugged as he wiped blood from his knuckles. "He was a power-type; if even one of his hits had connected, it would have been lethal. Naturally, I had to take him down before he could counterattack."
The two were reflecting on the battle over lunch on the deck. The Ghost Warrior Pirates, who had once ruled Mistoria Island with an iron fist, had been dismantled. Their members lay scattered across the port. The crew hadn't felt like eating amidst the carnage, so they had returned to the ship to wash up before breaking bread.
From a distance, the islanders watched the ship with a mixture of awe and trepidation. They knew the power balance of their home had shifted in a single afternoon.
"So, what's the plan?" George asked. "Since we've conquered it, are we making this island our base?"
"It's convenient," Scotch noted, "but a bit small. It's fine as a territory to collect tribute from, but as a primary base? It's a bit cramped."
Mistoria's economy relied almost entirely on fleecing rookies entering the New World. It was a merchant hub for middle-men, with very little in the way of local resources or sustainable agriculture. If they stayed, they'd be paying a premium for imported food and water.
"Kanata, how long does it take for the Log Pose to charge here?" George called out.
"In the New World, it takes about half a day for any island," Kanata replied. "But we aren't waiting for a charge. We're using an Eternal Pose to head straight for Fullalead. We leave tomorrow morning, so spend the afternoon gathering intel."
"We aren't staying? Well, alright. What kind of info are we looking for?"
"See if the power structure in this sector has shifted in the last two weeks," she instructed. "And find out if there are any specific sea zones we should avoid."
With the constant state of war in these waters, the political map changed daily. She needed to keep a close eye on Shiki and Big Mom; they were undoubtedly tracking her movements as well. Taking an unpredictable route was her best defense.
"Just the essentials," Kanata added. "If anything massive happens, we'll see it in the papers."
"Got it. Intelligence gathering it is," Scotch said with a mock-serious nod. "I'll start by finding a place where pretty girls pour the drinks."
"You just want to go drinking with girls!" George barked.
Scotch didn't deny it. He just shrugged, noting that bars were where the best rumors were traded anyway.
"Make it quick and get some rest," Kanata warned. "We're back on the open sea tomorrow."
The crew dispersed, though in the end, they found very little of note.
***
Fullalead. Also known as Pirate Island.
This was the legendary land where the Rocks Pirates were first formed and the birthplace of the pirate game known as the Davy Back Fight. At the center of the island stood a colossal rock formation shaped like a human skull, surrounded by a sprawling town of stone buildings.
However, while the structures remained, the people did not. The island was a ghost town—a ruin of a bygone era.
The harbor was ancient but sturdy enough for their needs. Once they docked, Kanata took Dragon with her toward the center of the island, a map provided by Shakuyaku in hand.
"A map that even shows the internal layout of the island..." Dragon mused. "Where did you get this?"
"Shakuyaku gave it to me back at Sabaody," Kanata replied. "She said it would be meaningful to me."
Most charts only showed coastlines and reefs, but this one detailed the interior architecture of the buildings. The stone houses were old but seemed structurally sound. As far as bases went, the island offered plenty of space and natural defense.
She knew that Garp was aware of her lineage as Octavia's daughter. Choosing this place—the cradle of the Rocks Pirates—would likely invite unwanted scrutiny from the Navy, but she was past the point of caring.
"It's a Summer Island," Kanata noted. "The climate is pleasant enough, but sourcing fresh water and food might be an issue if we settle here."
"There was a large island nearby on our way here," Dragon suggested. "If we control that as well, we can ferry supplies back and forth."
"True. That's an option."
True to its name as a "Pirate Island," the outer perimeter was littered with old defensive emplacements. Rusty cannons sat in various states of decay, their gunpowder long since dampened by the sea air. If they were to stay, the defenses would need a total overhaul. The harbor, too, would need a shipwright's touch to accommodate a full fleet.
They eventually reached the foot of the Great Skull.
"It's even bigger up close," Dragon remarked.
"It's an impossibly precarious shape," Kanata said, looking up at the hollow eye sockets of the stone giant. "A Devil Fruit user must have shaped this."
"Likely. I've seen ability users who can assimilate with stone before."
Kanata recalled an opponent she had faced back in the West Blue. Some Paramecia types were capable of incredible feats of engineering. These powers weren't just for combat; in the right hands, they were tools of industry and creation.
They pushed open the front doors. Inside, the air was stagnant and thick with dust. Kanata winced, moving to open windows to let the place breathe. It was going to need a deep cleaning. Masking their faces with handkerchiefs, they moved deeper into the structure.
"This should be it," Kanata said, consulting her map.
After navigating several hidden doors and corridors, they found a staircase leading underground. Kanata had brought a lantern, which proved essential as the light from above faded. The staircase was massive—built for the kind of giants and larger-than-life humans that frequented the Rocks Pirates.
"Is the ventilation okay down here?" Dragon asked. "I'd rather not suffocate."
"There's a draft. There must be an intake somewhere."
Descending the stairs, they finally reached the lowest level.
"Is that..." Dragon started. "A Poneglyph? Why is it here?"
The room was bathed in a faint, ethereal light. Glowing moss clung to the walls and floor, casting a dim luminescence that made the lantern almost unnecessary. The mossy stone block sat in the center of the chamber.
How had it gotten here? Had a pirate from the old era brought it? Or had it always been here, hidden beneath the island?
"Did Rocks bring this here? Or perhaps Octavia?" Kanata wondered aloud.
"I'm not sure," Dragon said, stepping closer. "But it isn't the only thing here."
In front of the Poneglyph, something was thrust into the ground like a grave marker. It was a sword.
Leaving a blade in a damp basement seemed like a waste, but as Kanata drew closer, she realized it wasn't a common weapon. She handed the lantern to Dragon and gripped the hilt, drawing the blade from its scabbard.
"It's beautiful..." she whispered.
The blade had a slight curve, a thin profile, and a high ridge. It looked remarkably sharp. The temper line was a chaotic, irregular pattern known as gunome-midare. The weapon radiated a haunting, almost predatory allure.
And most importantly—it was a Black Blade.
"I've heard rumors that a Black Blade won't bend even a millimeter if a dinosaur steps on it," Kanata said. "I've never seen a real one before."
While a warrior can turn a sword black by coating it in Armament Haki, this blade was permanently stained. It had become a Black Blade through years of legendary battles.
"Can you identify it?" Dragon asked.
"No. I'm not an expert on swordsmanship history."
But she knew people who were. George had a knack for digging up obscure trivia. The fact that it was a Black Blade meant it was immune to rust, which was why it looked as if it had been forged yesterday despite the damp environment.
"I don't know who left it here, but finders keepers."
She sheathed the weapon and prepared to leave. She couldn't read the Poneglyph, so there was no point in trying to move it. As long as it stayed in this hidden basement, it was safe from the world. She made sure the entrance was concealed again, leaving the room exactly as they had found it—minus the sword that had stood guard over the ancient stone.
***
"Welcome back," George said as they returned to the docks. "Find anything good?"
"You could say that. You're the expert on gear—do you recognize this?"
Kanata handed the sword to George. He pulled the blade a few inches out of the sheath, examining the craftsmanship and the temper line. His eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"This... this is impossible."
"It's a good sword, then? What's the grade?"
"Good?! This isn't just 'good,' Kanata! This is one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades!"
In the world of swords, there are five tiers of quality, ranging from standard blades to the legendary Supreme Grade(Saijo O Wazamono). There are only twelve such blades in existence, and most have been lost to history. Finding one was a world-altering event; the value of the sword alone was enough to buy a kingdom.
"What's its name?"
George swallowed hard. "The name is Muramasa. They used to say this blade was capable of slaying gods."
A Supreme Grade Blade. Muramasa. It was a terrifying discovery. But it came with a catch.
"The problem is... Muramasa is a Cursed Blade, just like the First Generation Kitetsu," George explained. "And since you don't even use swords, who's going to carry this thing?"
"A Cursed Blade... I felt as much," Kanata said, looking at the hilt.
It was a weapon that enchanted the viewer. It wasn't necessarily a "curse" that brought bad luck, but rather one that whispered to the soul of the wielder, urging them toward the battlefield. It was a blade that turned men into killers.
"I'll keep it," Kanata decided. "It'll make a fine decoration for my room."
"Using one of the Twelve Supreme Grade Blades as a paperweight..." George groaned, handing it back. "I guess if no one can handle the curse, that's the only choice."
He didn't want any part of it. They said a Cursed Blade would consume anyone without a monstrously strong will. Kanata was likely the only one on the ship who could keep it in check.
"Anyway," Kanata said, changing the subject. "I'm thinking of making this island our base of operations. We can resupply at the neighboring island."
"That works for me. Should we start setting up?"
"Not yet. While I'm planning for eventual war with Shiki or Big Mom, there's somewhere else we need to go first. I want to reach Lodestar Island."
"And then we double back here? I see."
Kanata wanted to see the end of the traditional Grand Line for herself. But before she could finish the thought, Zen the Mink trotted up, raising a hand.
"I heard the conversation! I have a suggestion!"
"Let's hear it, Zen."
"Could we visit Zou? It is my homeland."
Zen explained that he also wanted to eventually visit Wano Country to pay his respects to Kozuki Sukiyaki, a man who had helped him in the past. Since they didn't have an Eternal Pose for Wano, going to Zou first was the best move.
"But how do we find Zou?" George asked. "The Log Pose doesn't work on it, does it?"
"No," Zen said, pulling out a small, scrap of paper. "We use this. A Vivre Card."
Also known as a "Life Paper," it was a mysterious item made from a person's fingernail clippings. The paper would always move toward the person it was linked to. By following this scrap, which pointed toward the giant elephant, they could find the phantom island.
"I've never seen anything like that," Kanata admitted.
"They're only found in the New World," Zen explained. "People from the other seas are always surprised."
Kanata nodded. Both Zen and Feiyun were New World natives—Zen from Zou and Feiyun from Elbaf. It was only natural they'd want to return home.
"Alright. We'll make a detour. Our next stop is the Mokomo Dukedom on the back of the giant elephant."
The next day, the ship set sail, leaving the ruins of Fullalead behind as they began their search for the island that moved.