The moment Wood had finished cutting down nearly ten pirates from the Iron Arm Pirates, he felt an alarm blaring in his mind.
Almost instantly, Cook's massive fist streaked through the air again, whistling with deadly force. This time, it was different—Cook had been waiting, biding his time. As Wood struck at the other pirates, Cook had held back, and now, finally, he unleashed his full power.
Thud—!
Wood had no choice but to meet the attack head-on. His crude lacquered wooden sword sheath absorbed the full weight of the blow, splinters flying in every direction. The sheer force slid his feet several meters across the ground. He flexed his arms, slightly numb from the impact, and allowed himself a brief, relieved thought: it was wise not to clash directly from the start.
This was Cook at less than full exertion. Even the wooden sheath was shattered by the sheer strength of the strike, and Wood had been sent flying—if it had been the earlier, fresher Cook, the impact might have injured him internally as well.
Cook's face twisted in anger. Even with his limited understanding, he realized Wood's plan: provoke him repeatedly to drain his stamina. Every punch in those heavy iron gauntlets required an enormous expenditure of energy, and his strength was already half of what it had been.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the surrounding seas, several Navy warships—departing from Marineford—had spent days sailing toward Red Leaf Island.
"Report, Admiral Zephyr. Our fleet has cleared the Paracia Sea and is approaching the waters near Red Leaf Island," a soldier announced with a sharp salute, his expression respectful.
Before him stood a man of unmistakable authority: tall, rugged, and wearing a mane of purple hair, his expression hardened by years of experience. Zephyr, one of the Navy's admirals, commanded not just through strength but through decades of guidance, having trained many of the Navy's current top officers, including the likes of Akainu and Kizaru.
"Ensure every ship on the fleet remains vigilant. This is only the first half of the Grand Line—don't underestimate the dangers. Damn Roger… even dead, he left us with a mess. Because of his final words, piracy is exploding across the seas again. And keep an eye on the other ships' officers; we need to mentor capable future Marines."
The soldier straightened, accepting the orders with full respect. As he turned to leave, he stole a glance at the towering admiral and couldn't hide his excitement. A new recruit, barely a few years in the Marines, he had already heard tales of this man. Zephyr—Black Arm Zephyr—was considered a hero among heroes. While most soldiers idolized Vice Admiral Garp, it was Zephyr who had shaped many of the Navy's strongest leaders.
Zephyr's presence near Red Leaf Island wasn't random. With the death of Gol D. Roger and the onset of the Great Pirate Era, the sudden surge of pirates was overwhelming the Navy's prior deployment strategies. Reinforcements were desperately needed, both in manpower and in establishing new naval bases.
The task required experience and discernment—something only Zephyr possessed. The Navy's current admiral, Kong, had entrusted this responsibility to him. Zephyr's decades of service, his eye for talent, and his familiarity with the training of new recruits made him the perfect choice.
Though he had long avoided leaving Marineford, Zephyr's own hatred of pirates and his duty made refusal impossible. Before departing, Garp had clapped him on the shoulder with a grin, telling him to enjoy the sea air and maybe find a promising student along the way. Zephyr had smiled wryly at the thought. But as he now sailed toward Red Leaf Island, it seemed there would be no such surprises this time.