Chapter 214: The Great War Begins!
[Sea Circle Calendar 1490: An unprecedented war sweeps the world. To confront you, the World Government musters over two million elite troops: one million Marine elites, eight hundred thousand elite from member nations, one hundred thousand Holy Land forces, and fifty thousand Cipher Pol agents.]
[This battle will decide who rules the world!]
Although this was the system's final broadcast, Silas still tugged at the corner of his mouth, seeing it cling to a timeline twenty years ahead. Even so, the moment he saw the World Government pull even the garrison from the Holy Land, Mary Geoise, he knew they were going all in.
"Never thought this day would really come—and so soon."
A fiery red ponytail swayed behind her. Rona stood at the prow of the Millennium Falcon beside Silas, her tone complicated.
"You should have known it the day you left the Marines."
"Mm. That's why there's no regret."
Her hand rested on the long blade at her hip. These years after leaving the Marines had been her happiest—no more chasing a hollow shadow, no more betraying her heart to follow orders.
Because the one she chased stood right beside her.
Because no one could order her around anymore.
Dawn broke, and the New World's sea shimmered gold. Silas and Rona stood on the prow of the Millennium Falcon, gazing ahead.
At the end of the sea stood a towering continent that split the world in two.
The Red Line.
Marine warships had already assembled. Over two million elite soldiers—no island in the New World's front could possibly host such numbers.
So if it came to a showdown, it would be on the open sea.
The end of a pirate world belonged on the sea.
Over five hundred gigantic Marine warships towered upon the water, with a thousand more of various sizes arrayed behind.
One could not see the end.
Facing them were likewise hundreds of warships standing across the sea. In the past, every ship had flown a uniquely colored Jolly Roger.
In this moment, every mast bore a single flag.
The White Wolf Pirates' Jolly Roger.
Even the pirates who had joined as temporary allies flew it.
"Why did you agree to join Silas in a battle this big? We'll die. We're absolutely going to die!"
Aboard the Roger Pirates' ship, the Oro Jackson, crewmen wailed. Just seeing the sight before them had their knees weakening.
They weren't yet the famed Pirate King's crew—only rookies with a few years at sea, with little experience in storms and war.
To start with, a battle on this scale—managing not to wet themselves was already an achievement.
"Shut up, all of you!"
Roger cursed at the spineless bunch.
"It's a trade. Understand what trade means?"
Silas would tutor them for a time; in exchange, they'd help him once.
Roger hadn't expected that "once" to be a decisive battle. He'd already cursed that kindly faced, black-hearted old man half to death in his mind—but turning tail now? Impossible.
He wouldn't lose face.
"When it starts, keep yourselves alive as best you can. Besides running, he probably isn't expecting much else from us."
Vice-captain Rayleigh spoke calmly.
In his view, the deal with Silas wasn't a loss. On one hand, they'd grown tremendously under his guidance. On the other hand, he'd mediated their relationship with the Rocks Pirates.
Though thanks to their captains, the Roger and Rocks Pirates still didn't get along, at least the Rocks Pirates had returned the crew they'd captured earlier.
For that alone, they owed Silas a favor.
That was why, despite his irritation, Roger still brought his men to the battlefield.
"That damn old man."
Thinking of that eighty-plus-year-old who still looked about his uncle's age, Roger's mouth twitched.
He had two real sons already, yet when he saw Roger, he asked with a straight face if he wanted to be his son.
As a man, how could he live long under another?
A son?
Not even an adopted one.
The moment he said it, Silas gave him a glance.
"Others want to be my son and don't get the chance. At your age, being my grandson would be a bit young."
Roger was only a bit over twenty; Silas was past eighty.
At that age, men usually had great-grandchildren.
Jokes aside.
With Roger's temperament, no way he'd be another's son—and Silas wasn't truly interested in making Roger his.
"I sort of admire that old man, though."
A man in sunglasses with two axes at his waist muttered, "If I'm that old and can still satisfy that many women, I don't care if I can't get out of bed every day."
"Don't come crying when you can't get it up and have to avoid women."
Hearing him, the others snickered.
The tension eased.
Nervous, yes—but the Roger Pirates weren't first-years anymore. They'd entered the New World two years prior, fought on Oss Island, and trained under Silas. Everyone had changed beyond recognition.
"This time, that bastard Garp's definitely on the other side, right?"
Roger cracked his knuckles.
"This time, I'll show him."
"Achoo!"
Among the Marine warships, Garp—now a Vice Admiral—dug his nose and suddenly sneezed.
"That bastard Roger, for sure!"
He slid off his deck chair and glared at the White Wolf fleet in the distance, grumbling.
The World Government and the White Wolf Pirates had formed opposing lines at either end of the sea, less than twenty kilometers apart.
War could break out at any time.
On this scale, surprise attacks no longer existed. Cutting supply lines was nonsense; every ship carried food and water for a month.
Would this war last a month?
For all his joking, in moments that mattered, Garp's smile vanished. He dialed a line.
"Sengoku. Don't die."
"You too."
Both Garp and Sengoku, after becoming Vice Admirals, were assigned their own flagships—massive warships carrying over a thousand Marines with hulls built from Adam Wood.
Nine years earlier, the Battle of Elbaf had paid the World Government enormous dividends. Adam wood cut from Elbaf's Treasure Tree Adam made hulls far tougher than ordinary ships.
Of the five hundred giant Marine warships in service, a full fifty were built from Adam wood.
In truth, with the logs felled back then, the Government had enough to rebuild all five hundred giants in Adam wood alone.
But when the Government finally moved to muster its Adam‑built ships for a sea war against Silas, a problem surfaced.
Seven years ago, during the Sabaody Archipelago battle, Silas and Rona set the Holy Land ablaze, blowing a massive hole in the Government's finances.
To plug the losses—and to keep the Celestial Dragons in luxury—
They publicly auctioned off vast stocks of Adam wood.
Of the original plan to use half of Elbaf's haul for shipbuilding, less than a tenth remained by the end.
Most of it had bled into the market.
Ordinary merchants had no use for such premium timber on trade ships.
Some went to member nations, but more drifted to the black market, was sold off privately to pirates, or simply stolen.
Adam Wood fetched sky‑high prices. Even flooded, discounted stock was still far too expensive for small‑time crews to buy—or rob—in ship‑sized lots.
In the end, the powerful pirate crews all converged on the New World.
Those who bought or stole Adam wood sailed into the New World only to be crushed or recruited by the White Wolf Pirates—and their ships were seized.
So the Government's leadership reeled.
Among thousands of warships, only fifty were built from Adam wood.
But among Silas's hundreds of pirate ships—
Nearly half were Adam‑wood hulls.
The most striking hull was the flagship over two hundred meters long—the White Wolf Pirates' Millennium Falcon.
The Elbaf giants had large ships too—but compared to the painstakingly refined Millennium Falcon, they looked crude.
One million against two million.
The numbers seemed against him—but in Silas's eyes, the only forces worth attention were the one million Marine elites and the hundred thousand or so top troops drawn from Cipher Pol and the Holy Land.
As for the member-nation troops?
Cannon fodder.
If the Government truly drew soldiers worldwide, some nations' elite wouldn't lose to Marine elites.
But thanks to Silas's deterrence, few nations responded. The troops gathered from member nations varied wildly in quality.
Call them "elite" to be generous—and "rabble" to be blunt.
Seeing the sheer scope of war, many soiled themselves on the spot.
Was this their fight to be in?
By contrast, although Silas's side also had undisciplined pirate groups, anyone who could ride the New World had real skill.
Even the cannon fodder were New World cannon fodder.
King to king, general to general, soldier to soldier.
Though outnumbered, Silas's side wasn't necessarily weaker overall.
But everyone knew.
In wars of this tier, the final outcome was always decided by the strongest. The basic soldiers existed to free up the top fighters.
Take a Marine Admiral.
An Admiral could annihilate a hundred thousand rank-and-file Marines in a heartbeat.
In practice—
An Admiral could be tied down by several Admiral-candidate-level foes, and each candidate could be tied down by several elite Vice Admirals.
Thus—
While an Admiral could obliterate a hundred thousand grunts, those same hundred thousand could, in the ideal, free several Admiral-candidate combatants—
To trade blows with a single Admiral.
The World Government believed numbers gave it the edge; Silas believed quality gave him his.
Who would win? Only the battlefield would tell.
Wooooo!
With a blast of sirens, the Marines' steamships rumbled to life. Dozens of ironclad steamers and those fifty Adam giants surged forward first.
Silas's side fielded mostly sailing ships.
On paper, the mismatch looked stark. But in a world ruled by individual power, technology hadn't advanced enough to change the tide.
Silas's fleets showed not a hint of fear.
Hundreds of Adam-built warships countercharged.
Led by Silas's flagship.
"It's begun."
Everyone felt the pressure surge. The force of millions intertwined—enough to change the very sky.
A storm?
Not today.
As the warships lunged, dozens of flares of Conqueror's Haki pierced the heavens, scattering clouds across hundreds of kilometers.
You heard that right.
Dozens of Conqueror's Haki.
Quantity became quality—especially with the terrifying caliber shown on both sides.
On the White Wolf side:
Silas, Harald, Rocks, Newgate, Linlin, Shiki, Rona, Roger, Rayleigh, Gaban.
On the World Government side:
Imu, the Five Elders, Saint Lucas, Saint Claude, Kong, Garp, Sengoku.
Lacking Conqueror's Haki did not mean lacking top-tier strength.
And Imu revealed her true face to the world for the first time.
Despite eight hundred years, the woman at the world's summit wore the face of a maiden still.
Silas did not dare take her lightly.
A woman who fooled the world for eight centuries and ruled it from the shadows had earned her due.
And the instant he saw Imu, Silas's fighting spirit spiked to the limit.
"Imu, I've come to kill you!"