It had been a day since Vander Decken IX's shadow had been forcibly and permanently removed from Fish-Man Island.
The shift was evident in Ryugu Palace's magnificent banquet hall. Once a symbol of solemn grief, King Neptune now glowed with vitality, his thunderous laughter resonating without a pause.
The palace was pulsing with happy, almost cathartic celebration after being engulfed in the sorrow of a lost queen for a long time.
Beautiful, glowing food was heaped on pearl platters; frothy beverages poured from shell goblets. Once-somber halls were given new life as graceful dancers swirled with bioluminescent ribbons and lively, rhythmic music filled every available space.
The air itself felt lighter, infused with relief and gratitude.
Neptune, his voice resonating with an almost boyish glee, recounted the exasperating details of Decken's elusiveness.
"My brave soldiers," he boomed, gesturing grandly with a goblet of sparkling kelp wine.
"They searched every coral nook, every hidden current, tirelessly, for ten long days! Every time we received information of Decken's location, that vile octopus would vanish into thin water! Like a ghost!"
He shuddered, a ripple of lingering disgust crossing his face.
"And those disgusting letters he sent to my precious Shirahoshi! The... the gift that remained attached to her door like some monstrous monument to his depravity!"
His laughter subsided then, replaced by a profound sincerity.
He set down his goblet, his massive frame shifting. Slowly, deliberately, he bowed his head.
Not the formal bow of a king to foreign dignitaries, but a deeper, more personal gesture.
"To both of you," he rumbled, his voice thick with emotion, "Guts, The Devil Swordsman... Nico Robin... I thank you. Not as a King, for a service rendered to my kingdom. But as a father, for protecting my daughter, for finally lifting this unbearable burden from her innocent shoulders."
Robin, sitting gracefully beside Guts, demurred with a gentle smile.
"Your Majesty, I assure you, I did not do much. It was all Gargar's doing, guided by his unique connection to us, and... My father's doing."
She gestured subtly towards Guts, reinforcing the bond they shared.
But Neptune would have none of it.
"Nonsense, young lady!" he insisted, his eyes warm.
"Your spirit, your wisdom, your courage in the face of the darkness that plagued us... It was invaluable. Truly."
Guts, meanwhile, paid the effusive praise no mind.
He merely continued to drink without a care, his mug clinking as he refilled it, his stoic gaze fixed on nothing in particular, though a subtle shift in his aura hinted at a grudging acceptance of the thanks.
Across the sprawling banquet table, at its far end, Fukaboshi sat stiffly, his shoulders hunched, his gaze carefully averted from Guts.
The trauma of the plaza, the horrifying vision of the bleeding red moon, the very essence of chaos radiating from the 'Devil Swordsman' - it still clung to him like a shroud.
He might have been a prince, but the memory was too raw, too recent.
He simply could not bring himself to get closer to the man who had embodied such existential terror.
In stark contrast, Neptune's other two sons, Ryuboshi and Manboshi, were utterly captivated.
They were perched excitedly near Guts, chattering non-stop. "Swordsman-san, that last spar was incredible!"
Ryuboshi exclaimed, his voice buzzing with boyish enthusiasm.
"We've been watching you on the training ground every day so-la-ti-do! You're so fast! And that swing! You are so cool, so-la-ti-do!"
Manboshi nodded vigorously.
"We saw you cleave those metal dummies in half, Akkamanbo! It was like they were made of paper!"
Ryuboshi, emboldened by Guts's silent tolerance, tentatively reached out a hand towards the Dragonslayer, which rested against Guts's chair, taller than any man.
"Can I... can I just touch it? It looks so heavy, so-la-ti-do!"
Before his fingers could even brush the cold steel, Guts's gauntleted hand shot out, not violently, but with an abruptness that made Ryuboshi flinch back.
"Don't."
Guts rasped, his voice low, a warning. "It'll corrode you."
Ryuboshi froze, his hand hovering inches from the blade.
And then, he heard it.
Faint at first, a distant, almost imperceptible wailing and screaming.
Not with his ears, but in his very soul.
The agony of everything the Dragonslayer had cut, everything it had consumed-the demons, the monstrous abominations, the marines, the bounty hunters, the pirates, everything the sheer carnage it had wrought-echoed within the air around the blade.
It was a chorus of tormented souls, a whisper of maddening despair.
His eyes widened in horror.
With a strangled gasp, he pulled back his hand as if burned, stumbling backwards, shaking his head rapidly.
"I... I hear something so-la-ti-do! It's... It's awful so-la-ti-do!"
Neptune, watching the interaction, a knowing sorrow in his eyes, cleared his throat.
As he is the one who commanded his vassal to burn the remains of those fish-man supremacists.
With the heaviest burden of his reign finally lifted, his spirits soaring, he launched into a tale of his own.
His voice boomed with a renewed energy, reminiscent of the tides.
He spoke of his unbeatable youngest days, of his strength and fearlessness as he roamed the oceans, butchering every nasty pirate and slave trader who dared to set foot inside his kingdom's waters.
His laughter echoed through the hall.
"Ah, those were the days!" he roared, slamming his goblet down.
"Even sparred with formidable warriors in my youth! Why, I even crossed trident with a formidable samurai from Wano! Kozuki Oden! A true beast of a man! A friend of the Pirate King, no less!"
Neptune's chest swelled with pride, his eyes gleaming with the memories of a glorious past.
The celebration in the Ryugu Palace banquet hall continued its joyous crescendo.
King Neptune, a king reborn, held court, his booming laughter and tales of youthful derring-do filling the cavernous space.
Robin, ever the calm observer, listened with polite interest, occasionally offering a graceful smile or a thoughtful nod.
While the King regaled his sons and Guts, who remained stoically focused on the endless flow of food and drink, Robin allowed herself to simply be.
She watched the intricate, flowing dances of the Fish-Man maidens, the vibrant swirl of colors, and the subtle, complex emotions playing across the faces of the revelers.
She enjoyed the exquisite music, each note a liquid melody in the underwater hall.
The solace of their current safety, after so much chaos, was a quiet balm to her soul.
Finally, as the celebration began to wane, and Neptune finished a particularly boisterous anecdote about wrestling a sea king, Robin gently cleared her throat.
"Your Majesty."
Robin said, her voice clear and calm, cutting through the lingering festive hum.
"I believe I finally know what I have been looking for."
She met Neptune's gaze, her eyes alight with a newfound certainty.
"A monument. With unknown words inscribed upon it."
Neptune, mid-reach for another platter of luminescent fruit, paused.
His usual jovial expression flickered with a brief moment of hesitation, a shadow of the weighty secrets he carried.
But he had made a promise.
A promise of full hospitality and aid.
His gaze softened, settling on Robin's earnest face. He understood. This was part of her purpose.
"Indeed."
Neptune rumbled, his voice regaining its kingly gravitas.
"There is such a place. It holds a very... important history for our kingdom. As I promised, young lady, I will personally take you there tomorrow morning."
The next morning, the palace was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the filtering currents.
The echoes of last night's celebration were gone, replaced by the hushed reverence appropriate for a journey into history.
Neptune, his royal robes exchanged for more practical attire, led Guts and Robin away from the palace's high, luminous core.
Their path took them deep into the older, rarely-visited sections of Fish-Man Island.
They descended through labyrinthine coral tunnels, passing through forgotten, overgrown grottoes where ancient, petrified algae pulsed with faint, eerie light. The air grew cooler, denser, imbued with the weight of ages.
Finally, they emerged into a vast, silent cavern.
It was a place of profound solemnity, a natural cathedral carved by time and ocean currents, its walls adorned with murals depicting scenes of ancient Fish-Man history, of alliances and betrayals long past.
The silence here was absolute, broken only by the gentle thrum of the deep.
And there, in the very center of the cavern, bathed in a single shaft of milky light filtering from a high, unseen vent, stood the monument.
It was colossal.
A massive, cuboid block of dark, unyielding stone, etched with a myriad of intricate, unfamiliar symbols.
Its surface bore the marks of countless millennia, yet the carvings themselves remained sharp, defiant of erosion, seemingly immortal.
This was no ordinary ruin.
This was a Poneglyph.
As Robin stepped closer, a faint, almost imperceptible hum began to resonate deep within her.
It wasn't an external sound, but an internal vibration, a deep resonance from her very being.
Her Whisperer ability, the extraordinary gift that allowed her to connect with the voices of the ancient past and the very essence of things, stirred, calling out to the knowledge encased within the stone.
Guts, walking beside her, felt a subtle shift in the air, a peculiar energy rippling around Robin, almost as if the very water was bending to her will, drawn to her singular focus.
Robin reached out, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.
When her fingertips finally brushed against the cold, smooth surface of the Poneglyph, an electrifying sensation coursed through her.
Her ability didn't just activate; it resonated with the stone, with the intent of its carver, unlocking a cascade of emotions and understanding that bypassed mere translation.
The images flooded her mind, overwhelming her senses.
She understood.
This was no declaration of war, no detached historical record. This was a letter of apologies.
She was no longer standing in the cavern.
She was there, eight hundred years ago.
She saw a towering figure, shadowed yet radiating immense sorrow and profound regret, meticulously carving the letters one by one.
Each chisel strike, each deliberate line, was infused with an aching remorse, the clang of hammer on stone echoing with heartbreak.
She felt the heavy sigh that accompanied each completed phrase, the weight of a monumental mistake, a promise unkept, a friendship betrayed or lost.
She saw it, she felt it, the profound sincerity of the apology, the heartbreak of the carver echoing across the ages.
And then, the words themselves, whispered directly into her mind, clear as if spoken just yesterday, resonated with a sorrow that spanned centuries:
"To the Mermaid Princess, from Joy Boy.
I am truly, deeply sorry. I could not fulfill my promise. The great ark, Noah, lies unfinished, its purpose unachieved. The time was not right. Our allies could not overcome the forces against us. I failed you, and all your people. I broke the vow we made under the shining sun. Forgive me for leaving you to this burden, for leaving the world unbalanced. But the dream... the dream still lives. One day, a new dawn will come. The promise will be fulfilled. Wait for that day."
A gasp escaped Robin's lips, unheard in the silent cavern.
Joy Boy.
The legendary figure from the Void Century.
This Poneglyph was a direct message, a direct communication from that lost era, a testament to a broken promise and a future hope.
Her heart pounded, a frantic drum against her ribs.
This wasn't just understanding; this was communion with the past.
She wanted to know more.
She wanted to know everything.
Everything about Joy Boy, about the promise, about the error, about the forces that had prevented its fulfillment, about the true history hidden for eight hundred years.
The secrets of the world lay within these stones, and she had just touched the beginning of it.