As Doflamingo requested, Bellamy, his voice now steady and filled with a newfound reverence, nodded slightly.
He took a deep breath, and with the rapt attention of everyone present, began to recount the tragic, epic tale of Montblanc Noland—the brave explorer from a bygone era, his grand adventures in the Grand Line, the strange and wondrous encounters he faced, and finally, how he discovered the legendary City of Gold, Shandora, and forged an unbreakable bond with its people.
Everyone listened quietly, their minds utterly captivated by the four-hundred-year-old story of dreams, friendship, and betrayal.
Golden Lion Shiki stood atop the massive dragon's back, his body trembling slightly as overwhelming emotions surged through him.
For a man who had lived his entire life chasing the grandest of ambitions, who had sailed the world and seen its every wonder, the story of a man whose dream was so immense it was condemned as a lie resonated to the very core of his soul.
Tears glistened in his old, fierce eyes, rolling down his weathered cheeks like broken strings of pearls.
"NOLAND…!" he roared, his voice thick with emotion.
"This is the romance of a true man! The legendary City of Gold—it truly exists!!!" His voice echoed across the vast, empty sky, as if trying to pierce the heavens themselves and proclaim this beautiful truth to the entire world.
Beside him, Jozu's brow furrowed as a flash of deep displeasure in his eyes.
The old man's bellowing was not only annoying but also far too close to where his Pops was resting.
In a swift, almost casual motion, he stepped forward and flicked Shiki hard on the forehead.
THWACK!
The crisp sound of the flick rang out like a gunshot in the high-altitude silence.
The Golden Lion, caught completely off guard by the sudden, disrespectful strike, instantly flared up.
His emotional moment shattered, replaced by pure, incandescent rage.
His already large eyes widened even further, bulging like bronze bells as he whipped his head around to face Jozu.
"Damn brat," he snarled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.
"You dare to hit me?!"
Ron, standing nearby, couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle.
Seeing these two behemoths locked in a heated standoff was certainly a welcome change of pace.
A little excitement was good—far better than the tense, awkward silence they'd endured for most of the journey.
His gaze then slowly shifted to the still form of Whitebeard, who lay in a deep, peaceful slumber, as if completely detached from the world around him.
Ron shook his head slightly.
The captain had been asleep for so long.
Jozu, completely unwilling to back down, narrowed his eyes, carefully assessing the aura emanating from Shiki.
He had witnessed their brief encounter before, and the old man's Haki had seemed brittle, almost weak.
He was confident he could handle him.
"So what if I did?" Jozu countered, his arms crossed over his massive chest.
"Try your Haki on this and see what breaks first, old man."
The Golden Lion burst into a condescending laugh at Jozu's words, his tone dripping with the mockery of a true veteran.
"Gyahahaha! Kid, didn't that old fossil Newgate ever teach you that a Devil Fruit is just a tool? Haki is the foundation of all true strength!"
The moment he finished speaking, an overwhelming, crushing surge of Conqueror's Haki erupted from his body.
It wasn't a wild uncontrolled blast; it was a focused, precise spear of pure willpower aimed directly and solely at Jozu.
Jozu felt as if an invisible mountain had just slammed into him.
His body, even with his immense strength, swayed uncontrollably.
His head spun violently, a wave of vertigo nearly sending him tumbling off the dragon's back.
Even as his body reeled, his eyes widened in utter shock and disbelief.
This feeling… this pressure on his very soul…
"You… you have Conqueror's Haki?!!!" he gasped, his voice strained.
The Golden Lion laughed heartily, a wild, triumphant grin spreading across his face, brimming with an unconcealed, legendary pride.
"Gyahahaha! Brat, did you really think I stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Newgate and Roger for nothing?!" He took a step forward, his presence seeming to swell, to fill the very sky around them.
"And those two old men, Sengoku and Garp! You think I fought them both at Marineford all by myself just for show?!"
The Golden Lion's Conqueror's Haki was continuing to recover, like a long-slumbering beast slowly, groggily awakening.
Every ripple of its presence carried a suffocating pressure.
Some of the newer recruits from the Donquixote Family, caught in the periphery of the blast, grew dizzy and disoriented.
Their faces turned deathly pale, beads of cold sweat rolling down their foreheads as their legs trembled weakly, barely able to keep them standing.
A few even clutched their chests, gasping for breath as if they might collapse at any moment.
Yet, beneath their feet, the majestic dragon remained remarkably steady, its powerful wings beating in a smooth, consistent rhythm.
"Ahem."
A single, quiet cough cut through the tension.
It was from Ron.
At the sound, a flicker of reluctance crossed the Golden Lion's face.
He let out a final, grumbling snort before slowly withdrawing the oppressive Haki that had filled the air.
His gaze shifted back to Jozu.
"Damn rotten luck I had before," Shiki sighed, the anger draining from him, replaced by a weary frustration.
He gestured to his now-healed head.
"That damned rudder… it nearly skewered my brain. The injuries were so severe, the pain so constant, that I didn't dare release even a trace of my Haki. I was afraid the slightest misstep, the slightest exertion of will, would worsen my condition and finish me off for good."
He shook his head regretfully, a hint of melancholy flashing in his eyes.
"Ah, time spares no one. Over the years, my body weakened, my age caught up. The strength I once took for granted slipped away bit by bit. I was in such a state, I almost forgot I even had Conqueror's Haki."
"But now," he grinned, his excitement returning as he patted his rudder-free head with immense satisfaction.
"it's all good! And it's all thanks to Ron! Without him, I'd still be a broken-down relic!" He could feel it clearly—his Conqueror's, his Armament, his Observation—all of it was slowly, steadily returning, flowing back into him like a tide returning to a long-dry shore.
"Gyahahaha!!!"
Jozu watched the old man quietly from the side, his brow still deeply furrowed.
Shiki's earlier insults towards Pops still left a sour taste in his mouth.
In his eyes, such behavior was downright disrespectful.
Still, Jozu had to admit—the man's strength was undeniable.
This was the power of a true legend, not to be taken lightly.
And with the old man now in a state of recovery… this presented a perfect opportunity.
He could use this chance to spar with Shiki later, to sharpen his own skills against a top-tier Haki user from a bygone era.
With a cold snort, Jozu turned away, ignoring Shiki as he silently moved aside to compose himself and prepare for the challenges ahead.
Doflamingo, too, had furrowed his brow at the display before withdrawing his gaze.
'This old man's strength… it's truly recovering'.
However, he quickly composed his thoughts.
After all, both sides now belonged to the same faction, more or less.
They were not enemies.
At this realization, he unconsciously let out a slight sigh of relief, as if a great tension had just eased within him.
At the same time, images of other fallen monsters involuntarily surfaced in his mind.
In this ever-changing world, there had once been so many terrifyingly powerful beings who, whether due to fate's cruel whims or the relentless tides of time, had gradually faded from the world's stage, becoming little more than stories.
He had no intention of becoming one of them.