High in the cerulean sky, Marco—transformed into the phoenix—was flying swiftly with Lucian Thorn on his back. But instead of returning to the Moby Dick, they descended onto a remote, uninhabited island.
Lucian and Marco landed steadily.
Marco reverted to his human form and turned to Lucian with a puzzled look.
"Aren't we going back to the ship? Pops and the others must be getting anxious."
"There's no time."
Lucian shook his head. In his dark eyes burned a restless, impatient fire.
"Every minute we delay, Ace is in even more danger."
His tone was firm—unyielding.
"No time to waste. We're going to rally some help. Now!"
Rally help!
Hearing those words, Marco felt his blood surge. He immediately understood what Lucian meant.
"Alright!" Marco nodded firmly. "So, are we heading to the future first? To find the peak version of Straw Hat Luffy? Or back to the past… to meet Peak Rayleigh?"
Just saying those names sent a thrill through him—even for someone like Marco, he couldn't suppress the excitement in his voice.
One was a legend of the future.
The other, a living legend.
"To the past first," Lucian answered without hesitation.
"We're going to find Rayleigh."
"Why?" Marco asked instinctively.
In his mind, Luffy—being Ace's brother—would obviously be easier to talk to, and more motivated to help.
Lucian turned toward the sea breeze, eyes narrowing as if he could pierce through the mists of time.
"Think about it, Marco."
"To future Luffy, the 'Paramount War' is already part of history."
"Whether Ace lives or dies… it's already something he experienced with his own eyes."
"If someone like that—someone who carries that pain—were told there's a chance to undo it… do you think he'd say no?"
Marco's pupils contracted.
He understood instantly.
'Of course!'
'For future Luffy, this tragedy is a scar etched into memory.'
'If given the chance to change it… he'd grasp it without hesitation.'
'Convincing him? That would be easy!'
"But Rayleigh is different," Lucian said, voice growing low.
"Twenty years ago, to him, the name Ace… even Captain Roger's death… none of that's happened yet."
"He hasn't lived through that pain. So naturally, he doesn't have the same drive as we do."
"Convincing someone who knows nothing of the future to get involved in a war that doesn't belong to him… is a far harder task than convincing someone desperate for redemption."
"Which is exactly why we have to handle the hard part first."
Every word was clear and logical.
All of Marco's doubts vanished in an instant.
He looked at Lucian's back, and for the first time, felt not only trust—but a deep, heartfelt respect.
'This man doesn't just have monster-level power and potential…'
'He also has a mind sharp enough to rival a demon's.'
"I get it now!" Marco said with conviction. "Let's do it!"
Lucian nodded.
He closed his eyes and sank his consciousness into the System.
'System, lock coordinates!'
'Target time-space: Sea Circle Calendar Year 1485!'
'Target individual: Peak form, "Dark King" Silvers Rayleigh!'
『Constructing Temporal Landmark...』
『Construction complete!』
『Gate of Time and Space — OPEN!』
Buzz—!
With a subtle spatial hum, the air in front of Lucian suddenly tore open like paper, as if ripped by an invisible hand.
From the rift burst golden light, forming a radiant gate imbued with ancient, mysterious energy.
Beyond the gate was a swirling storm of twisted time-space turbulence.
"Let's go, Marco."
Lucian opened his eyes and stepped forward.
"Let's meet… the legendary right-hand man of the Pirate King at his peak."
One after the other, they stepped into the Gate of Time and Space—without hesitation.
Light and shadows twisted.
When the sensation of solid ground returned beneath their feet, the world around them had changed completely.
The air was denser, wilder—filled with a raw, primal ocean scent.
The night sky loomed above them, and the stars glittered brighter than diamonds—as if one could reach out and pluck them from the sky.
Not far from the coastline, a massive bonfire blazed, casting light on a rowdy group of men who were laughing, drinking, and shouting with unrestrained energy.
Even from a distance, the sound of raucous singing and boisterous laughter rang out like thunder.
That laughter was brimming with lawless freedom and untamed pride.
Just feeling the atmosphere from afar made Marco's muscles tense instinctively.
'There's no mistaking it…'
'That overwhelming, regal aura—'
'It's Gol D. Roger!'
They had returned to that era—the Great Age of Pirates!
But Lucian wasn't looking at the pirates partying below.
He slowly closed his eyes.
In the next second, Observation Haki burst out from him like a tidal wave, silently blanketing the entire island.
Countless life signals flared in his awareness.
By the bonfire, many of them burned hot like furnaces—one of them shining like a blinding sun. That one was undoubtedly Roger himself.
But that wasn't who Lucian was after.
His senses swept past the chaotic coastline and climbed toward the island's highest peak.
There, he felt a completely different kind of presence.
Unlike Roger's overt, domineering strength—this one was serene.
Refined.
Like a master so deep and still he seemed perfectly ordinary. But within that body lurked enough power to topple the world and devour all before him.
'That's him!'
"Found him," Lucian said with a smirk, opening his eyes.
"He's at the summit."
Marco understood immediately.
Without saying another word, blue flames quietly ignited around him.
This time, there was no roar or blaze—just a silent burn wrapping around his figure.
A suppressed phoenix cry rang out.
The great phoenix took wing again—but this time, soundlessly.
It grabbed Lucian's shoulder, and with a flap of its wings, shot silently through the night sky like a blue ghost, avoiding every watchful eye as it soared toward the black mountain peak.
Moments later—
They landed in a dense patch of forest just below the summit, suppressing every trace of their aura, hiding completely in the shadows beneath the massive canopy.
They parted the leaves and peeked forward.
Atop the cliff, sitting quietly on a smooth boulder—
A man.
He wore a loose, open-collared shirt, exposing a well-defined chest. Long golden hair flowed freely behind his shoulders.
Moonlight poured over his face, illuminating a pair of round glasses.
At his side rested a sheathed longsword.
In his hand—an enormous jug of alcohol, which he raised from time to time for a swig.
He simply sat there in silence, gazing out at the crashing waves below.
His entire being seemed to melt into the night, into the sky and earth themselves.
And yet—it was that ordinary-looking figure…
That made both Marco and Lucian feel a suffocating pressure rise from deep within their souls.
As if they weren't looking at a man…
But at a legendary sword, sheathed in silence.
Its edge unseen, and yet sharp enough to slice the world in two.
At his peak—
The Dark King, Silvers Rayleigh.