Faced with Rayleigh's soul-piercing question, Lucian spat out a mouthful of blood-tinged saliva. The burning will to fight faded from his face, replaced by a depth far beyond his years.
"Tell me—what did you come here for? You went through all this trouble, even risked your life just to fight me. What are you really after?"
Rayleigh's voice echoed through the silent forest.
Lucian grinned, a faint bitterness laced within his expression, but also something that resembled… relief.
"Maybe…"
He looked up, meeting Rayleigh's piercing gaze.
"Maybe I'm just trying to make up for some regrets—some that are about to happen, or maybe ones that have already passed."
"Regrets?"
Rayleigh's brows furrowed. The answer caught him off guard.
'At his age—and with this level of strength—what regrets could he possibly be carrying?'
But Lucian didn't elaborate. He just gave a low chuckle and said:
"You'll understand someday, Mr. Rayleigh."
That mysterious and lofty tone made even Rayleigh momentarily feel like he couldn't read this young man anymore.
Sensing that the objective had been met—and that lingering any longer might only cause complications—Marco stepped forward.
He wore just the right expression of respectful disappointment and bowed slightly.
"Since you've made your decision not to involve yourself, Mr. Rayleigh, we won't insist further."
"Forgive the intrusion."
"We'll take our leave."
With that, he supported Lucian, preparing to leave.
Every move was flawless—playing the role of someone who came seeking help, was politely refused, and now had no choice but to walk away.
Rayleigh watched the two figures turn and leave, still full of confusion.
'These two… One has strength that defies reason. The other—completely unreadable. They went through all that trouble, just to fight me and then drop a cryptic line before leaving?'
But just as Marco was preparing to transform into his phoenix form and fly them away, Lucian suddenly stopped.
He turned halfway, glanced back over his shoulder at Rayleigh, and that familiar smirk crept back onto his face—playful, knowing, and mysterious.
"Oh, right—Mr. Rayleigh."
"Even if you don't plan on joining the fight, I strongly suggest you tune in to the Marineford broadcast when the time comes."
Rayleigh's gaze sharpened instantly.
Lucian's smile deepened as he dropped a bombshell designed to shake the very core of the man before him.
"I guarantee… you'll see something truly shocking."
He paused, voice dropping just enough to carry weight—but clear as crystal to Rayleigh's ears.
"You might even see an 'old friend' you've missed for a long, long time."
BOOM.
The words "old friend" struck Rayleigh's mind like a thunderclap.
His breath hitched.
In that moment, the eyes of the man who had seen the rise and fall of an era—witnessed the turning of countless tides—finally revealed unmistakable turbulence.
'Someone I, Silvers Rayleigh, would call a "dearly missed old friend" on this ocean…'
'There's only one person that could be.'
'That man who wore a straw hat, grinned like a fool, and turned the whole world upside down—'
Gol D. Roger.
'Impossible!'
'He's dead! I saw it with my own eyes—on the execution platform in Loguetown! He started this mad era himself!'
'What the hell is this kid talking about?!'
But before Rayleigh could recover from the mental quake—
FWOOSH!
Marco, catching the cue perfectly, burst into blue flame. The fire wrapped around them and carried them high into the sky, streaking across the heavens like a shooting star.
Leaving Rayleigh alone in the clearing—still and silent like a statue.
The wind rustled the mangrove leaves with a soft shhhhhh.
How much time passed… no one could say.
A graceful figure landed silently beside him from the canopy above.
Shakky.
She crushed what little remained of her cigarette, exhaled a slow breath of smoke, and gazed in the direction Lucian had vanished.
Her tone held a faint trace of awe.
"What a terrifying rookie."
"Looks like that old bastard Whitebeard picked up quite the treasure this time."
Rayleigh finally stirred, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling—as if trying to force the thunderstorm inside his chest to quiet down.
"Terrifying…"
He repeated the word softly… and then gave it a different judgment altogether.
"No. I'd say… strange and terrifying."
"Oh?"
Shakky raised a brow, surprised.
"That's rare. You don't say things like that lightly."
Rayleigh lifted his right hand, palm open, staring at the faint red flush left by the battle.
His eyes grew more serious than she'd seen in years.
"That kid—Lucian—he's bottomless."
His voice was low, but each word carried absolute conviction.
"That final slash of mine… I held back the killing intent, but the Conqueror's infusion was real. That hit would've severely injured even a Yonko or an Admiral."
"I felt it. His arm bones shattered in that instant. His internal organs were heavily shaken."
Shakky nodded. She'd seen that too.
But Rayleigh's next words—froze the lazy smile from her face entirely.
"But…"
His voice dropped low, like revealing some impossible truth.
"The moment he stood up and thanked me… I could feel it—his injuries were already healing. At a speed I can't even begin to explain."
"Not only that… his aura didn't weaken from injury. It was… stronger than when the fight began."
Even Rayleigh found it hard to believe what he was saying.
He looked to Shakky, and for a split second—there was something in his eyes even he hadn't realized himself.
Fear.
"Shakky… I have a feeling..."
"If he had challenged me again just now..."
"I might have lost."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The cigarette in Shakky's mouth dropped to the ground with a soft flick.
She stared at Rayleigh like she didn't recognize him anymore—as if meeting this man she'd lived beside for decades for the first time.
Lose?
That word, spoken by the right hand of the Pirate King, Silvers Rayleigh, was harder to believe than if the World Government had announced its own disbandment.
This wasn't just terrifying.
This was a monster.
An outright, logic-defying, monstrous existence.
Rayleigh didn't respond to Shakky's shock. His mind was entirely consumed by the last thing Lucian said.
Surprise…
Old friend…
His fingers unconsciously brushed against the hilt at his waist.
His heart—quiet for more than twenty years—now pounded uncontrollably.
It was a cocktail of emotions: anticipation, doubt, unease… and a trace of fear.
After a long silence, Rayleigh finally spoke—softly.
"Let's wait and see."
His eyes flickered with a rare light—curiosity.
"I'm getting more and more curious about that day."
"Let's see… just what kind of 'surprise' that kid is going to bring me."