When Yoriichi sailed away from Migo Town, he could never have imagined that just after his departure, the Whitebeard Pirates would arrive to claim the town as their territory.
To onlookers, it almost seemed as though Yoriichi had acted as Whitebeard's hired hand, securing the ground for their future domain.
When Marco returned to the ship, Whitebeard sat at the base of the mast with his chin resting on his hand.
"Marco, is everything taken care of?" he asked.
Whitebeard had followed along this time, partly because he didn't quite trust Marco alone, and partly because he found himself bored when none of his sons were around. To be left alone was dull for the "old widower."
"Yeah, all done!" Marco said brightly. At his age, the recognition mattered. Seeing the terrified civilians hiding away in their homes as he landed had given him a sense of pride.
"Good. Then let's move on," Whitebeard said. "We've lingered on that island long enough. Marco, how about Wano? It's been ages since I saw Oden. Let's pay him a visit."
At the mention of Kozuki Oden, Whitebeard's face broke into a smile. Marco chuckled and nodded.
"Sure, Pops, you decide. I kind of miss Oden-san's sukiyaki."
The suggestion won cheers from the rest of the crew as well, and the Moby Dick was soon filled with a festive mood.
On January 1, Sea Circle Calendar 1502, Dressrosa was filled with lanterns and fireworks. After a year of rapid development and hard work, the people finally welcomed the new year with joy.
The construction of the Dawn Blade Marine Branch had been completed at the end of the previous year, and the workers could now celebrate their labor in peace.
In the port town, Kyros patrolled with a squad of Marines. Civilians greeted him warmly as he passed, and he smiled and nodded in return, though after a few hundred meters his face felt stiff from constant politeness.
Trailing him were newly assigned recruits, their faces full of excitement as they admired the respect Kyros received.
"Rear Admiral Kyros, you're really popular!" one young Marine said. "One day, I want to be a Marine like you!"
Since returning from Migo Town, Yoriichi had promoted Kyros, Mihawk, and the others. The credit for aiding the ICE branch and defeating the Beasts Pirates had been distributed by Marine Headquarters to Yoriichi's subordinates.
For Yoriichi himself, already a Vice Admiral and one who had once refused a promotion to Admiral, the accomplishment brought no advancement. But Headquarters could not ignore the feat entirely, so his men received the rewards.
With the ICE branch destroyed, Marine Headquarters recognized the importance of the Dawn Blade Branch in the New World and dispatched one hundred recruits, a battleship, and more than a dozen patrol vessels. The new recruits were drawn from Marine academies—clearly the eyes of Fleet Admiral Kong or Admiral Sengoku.
Yoriichi understood perfectly. These were spies, but he didn't mind. His branch had nothing to hide. As for Ace and his mother Rouge, her origin in the South Blue had long been erased from the records. If that could still be uncovered, all of Yoriichi's careful work in Dressrosa would have been a joke.
After patrol, Kyros dismissed his men for the holiday and returned to the base. Seeking Yoriichi, he found only Mihawk leaning against the courtyard wall, arms folded, staring up at the sky.
"Lieutenant Commander Mihawk, where's the Vice Admiral?" Kyros asked.
Mihawk lowered his head slightly, glanced at him, and then simply tilted his chin skyward.
Kyros followed the gesture and caught sight of a figure in the clouds. That streak of crimson hair stood out even under the sunlight.
"Yoriichi… he's flying?" Kyros whispered in shock.
He squinted, watching closely. Yoriichi wasn't using Moonwalk. He was truly flying, moving swiftly and freely in the air, turning at will, without a single sonic boom.
Moonwalk, one of the Marine Six Styles, relied on striking the air for recoil, producing a distinctive sound and limiting directional control. Yet here was Yoriichi, standing as if on invisible ground, gliding in any direction with ease.
"He's developed a new ability," Mihawk said, his lips curling with excitement.
Since their return from Migo Town, Yoriichi had been experimenting. Today, he had completed it. Mihawk, who had watched the entire process, shivered. In just a few months, Yoriichi had achieved true flight. It defied reason, beyond the scope of mere talent.
A faint whistle split the air as Yoriichi descended, landing with a light step, weightless despite dropping from dozens of meters. At the moment he touched down, a surge of Conqueror's Haki rippled outward, tangible enough to scatter the dust at his feet.
"Too short," Yoriichi muttered with a frown.
Kyros hurried forward, stammering in disbelief. "V-Vice Admiral, just now… what was that?"
"Oh, that?" Yoriichi smiled faintly. "Just a little application of Conqueror's Haki."
As he spoke, his aura flared again. His body lifted several inches from the ground, floated there for a moment, then gently settled back down as the Haki receded.
Kyros gaped. He had never heard of anyone using Haki for flight. Haki was "flowing energy," normally requiring a vessel—flesh or steel—to manifest. Only at the extreme did Conqueror's Haki extend directly into the world. To see it carry a man through the air was unbelievable.
Even Mihawk, who had watched it all, still struggled to accept the reality of it.
"Conqueror's Haki… just a little trick?" Kyros repeated, stunned.
Yoriichi said no more. Kyros was still too far from this level to understand.
After their setback at Migo Town, Yoriichi had pondered how to overcome the flaws of Moonwalk. Armament Haki could be attached to air, like with Haki-infused slashes, but it couldn't sustain his weight. So he turned instead to Conqueror's Haki. Unlike Armament, it needed no vessel, striking the world directly.
If his slashes could cut islands apart, why not use that same overwhelming will to support himself? After months of trial, he succeeded.
He named the technique "Sky Dance." Though it drained his Haki heavily, allowing only five to six hours of pure flight at most—and much less in combat—it was his new power.
"Kyros, have you prepared for tonight's feast?" Yoriichi asked, moving on as if nothing had happened. "The men have worked hard. Let's celebrate."
The branch had grown to nearly two thousand Marines, and the year's constant drills and patrols left them little time to rest. Tonight, at last, they could relax.
As night fell, the mess hall roared with laughter. Fireworks lit the skies over Dressrosa, painting the night in brilliant colors.
Far across the West Blue, under the pale moonlight, a Marine battleship swept its searchlights across the waves and caught sight of a lone boat.
A massive figure leapt from the deck, landing hard enough to nearly capsize the craft. With one swift motion, he seized the woman rowing it and soared back to the warship's deck.
"I am Vice Admiral Jaguar D. Saul," the giant declared. "Nico Olvia—you are under arrest."
The slender, white-haired woman raised her head, her expression shifting before settling into calm resolve.
Saul pulled out his Den Den Mushi and reported the capture. But the orders that came froze him in place, as if struck by lightning.
"Saul. With Nico Olvia in custody, lead your fleet to Ohara. Cooperate with the other Vice Admirals. Initiate a Buster Call on Ohara."
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