Across the vast territory of the Whitebeard Pirates, subtle unrest and external invasions continued to spread.
Countless forces were stirring beneath the surface, yet none had fully committed themselves. The Beast Pirates were waiting for the Nightfall Pirates and Whitebeard Pirates to truly collide. They were waiting for the moment when both sides became locked in a bloody struggle.
Only then would they make their move.
"Old Man, our situation is becoming increasingly unfavorable. Shouldn't we ask Oden for help? If Wano Country sends reinforcements, the pressure on us would ease considerably."
A member of the Whitebeard Pirates voiced the suggestion.
Whitebeard immediately rejected it.
"What nonsense are you talking about?" he barked. "How can we drag Oden into this? He represents Wano Country now."
His answer was absolute.
Oden was no longer a pirate. Ever since becoming the Shogun of Wano Country and opening the nation's borders, the World Government had officially removed his bounty.
If Wano Country became involved in a conflict between pirate crews, the entire nature of the struggle would change.
Besides, Wano Country's own circumstances were far from ideal.
The revelation that the nation possessed two Road Poneglyphs had drawn countless eyes toward it. The world had already known Wano for its legendary samurai, but now people realized the country held secrets tied directly to Laugh Tale itself.
As a result, Wano Country had become a vortex of its own.
In recent months, pirates, spies, and agents from countless organizations had attempted to infiltrate the isolated nation. Nearly all of them had either been captured or killed.
Knowing this, Whitebeard was even less willing to trouble Oden, despite being fully aware that the stubborn samurai would rush to help if asked.
"We are the Whitebeard Pirates!"
Whitebeard slammed the butt of his bisento onto the deck.
The air trembled.
"I can handle one or two of these brats myself."
A fierce grin spread across his face.
"Let them witness the power of the Whitebeard Pirates!"
His words immediately reignited the spirits of everyone present.
Confidence surged through the crew once more.
At the same time, Whitebeard acknowledged the reality of the situation. This was one of the most dangerous periods the Whitebeard Pirates had ever faced.
As a result, he decisively sent out calls for aid.
Not to governments.
Not to kingdoms.
But to the countless pirates and organizations that had long maintained friendly relations with the Whitebeard Pirates.
Throughout their enormous territory, numerous forces existed under Whitebeard's protection.
The Whitebeard Pirates alone were nowhere near sufficient to directly govern such an immense sea.
Their core force consisted of nearly two thousand elite pirates organized into more than ten divisions. Including ordinary members, their numbers reached the tens of thousands, though they still remained below fifty thousand.
The Nightfall Pirates were different.
Marshall D. Teach intended to rule a vast empire using the strength of a single organization.
That was why the Nightfall Pirates had continuously expanded, recruiting pirates, soldiers, and powerful fighters from across the seas.
At present, the Nightfall Pirates alone numbered well over one hundred and fifty thousand members, and that figure did not even include affiliated organizations.
Their excellent and thriving economy, growing influence attracted countless pirates.
The Battle Pyramid alone brought a constant influx of newcomers.
Meanwhile, the stable environment within the Sageros Sea attracted merchants from every corner of the world.
Military academies had even been established to train future generations of Nightfall Pirates.
In only a few more years, they would be capable of producing thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of new personnel annually.
The Whitebeard Pirates, however, relied on a different form of strength.
Across their territory, countless organizations paid protection fees and accepted Whitebeard's protection.
If Whitebeard truly issued a full mobilization order, he could potentially gather three hundred thousand, four hundred thousand, or even more people.
Of course, most of those forces would be little more than cannon fodder.
To avoid meaningless casualties, Whitebeard traditionally selected only the elite.
The true combat force consisted of the Whitebeard Pirates themselves and over fifty thousand elite members drawn from their affiliated crews.
The Whitebeard Pirates possessed something the Nightfall Pirates lacked.
The ability to rally the hearts of others.
Over decades, Whitebeard had earned both countless enemies and countless allies.
Many pirates had once received his help.
Others had been rescued by him.
Some owed him their very lives.
While they were not Whitebeard's sons, they still answered his call when crisis arrived.
Within the current New World, only two figures possessed such influence.
Whitebeard. And the Golden Lion, Shiki.
When these people saw the difficult position the Whitebeard Pirates had fallen into, many acted of their own accord.
Some intercepted forces seeking to invade Whitebeard territory.
Others strengthened local defenses.
A few even volunteered to help resist the Nightfall Pirates and Beast Pirates.
Most pirates valued loyalty and repaid favors.
The Whitebeard Pirates had spent decades building that reputation.
Now, for the first time in years, its true value became visible. The seemingly unstable situation gradually stabilized.
Among those who stepped forward were powerful figures from the New World. One notable example was the increasingly famous Red-Haired Pirates.
Their appearance alone discouraged many opportunistic factions from taking action and greatly reinforced the Whitebeard Pirates' defensive network.
Of course, reality remained reality.
Aside from a handful of organizations with exceptionally close ties to Whitebeard, most groups were unwilling to directly oppose the Nightfall Pirates or Beast Pirates.
The risks were simply too great.
Many of these smaller forces were native to the Notting Sea and depended on Whitebeard's protection, yet their own strength was limited.
Offending two Emperor-level powers for Whitebeard's sake was not a choice they could easily make.
As a result, while the Whitebeard Pirates felt less pressure psychologically, their actual military situation had not improved significantly.
The threats remained.
The enemy remained. The coming war remained. And the Nightfall Pirates had finally grown tired of waiting.
They possessed a detailed understanding of the Whitebeard Pirates' force deployments, defensive arrangements, and command structure.
The time to strike had arrived.
Straw Honey Island.
A spring island famous for its production of straw honey.
The island's inhabitants made their living harvesting this rare product, which was treasured throughout the Four Seas.
Not only was it exceptionally delicious, but it was also believed to possess beauty-enhancing properties, making it highly sought after among wealthy nobles and aristocrats.
Its value rivaled gold.
Because of this, Straw Honey Island had become one of the most profitable territories seized by the Nightfall Pirates during their previous war with Whitebeard.
Due to its distance from Whitebeard territory and the enormous forests covering most of the island, it was exceptionally difficult to detect from afar.
These characteristics made it the perfect location.
It had been designated as the Nightfall Pirates' primary command center for the coming war.
The individual overseeing the island was a figure who had rarely appeared on the seas in recent years.
Mostima.
Although he served as one of the Nightfall Pirates' highest-ranking civil officials, he was also among their strongest combatants.
Within the Nightfall Pirates, strength remained the ultimate qualification.
Mostima had never neglected his training.
He intended to claim one of the future Seven Demon King positions, and his rivals were monsters in their own right.
This war would be his opportunity to remind the world that he was still a force to be reckoned with.
Deep within the island's forest stood a sprawling command center.
The structure was solemn yet luxurious.
Inside the dimly lit central hall, numerous visual Den Den Mushi projected giant screens across the room.
Mostima sat comfortably on a sofa.
Before him appeared the images of the Nightfall Pirates' highest-ranking commanders.
Mobius.
Voss.
Sladar.
Wallace.
Shiryu.
Mog Raddon.
And Gar.
Behind them stood many other important combatants.
The Hadena and Hademan brothers.
Abby the Mantis Man.
Kaski the Jet Man.
Young monsters such as Daz Bonez, Clemons and Enel.
Veterans who had distinguished themselves during the Golden Sea War.
Powerful newcomers recruited over recent years.
And rising talents cultivated from within the Nightfall Pirates themselves.
Teach had never been stingy when rewarding merit.
Outstanding members frequently received Devil Fruits. The Nightfall Pirates had numerous acquisition channels.
Doflamingo.
Stephanie.
The Dark Council.
Their own collection teams.
Auction purchases.
Various black-market networks.
Across Nightfall territory, enormous orchards had also been established.
Besides supplying fruit to the population, they served another purpose.
Devil Fruit regeneration.
The Battle Pyramid experienced deaths every single day.
Brutal combat was common.
Many Devil Fruit users perished there.
As a result, the chances of nearby fruit transforming into a newly reborn Devil Fruit increased dramatically.
For this reason, the Nightfall Pirates cultivated virtually every fruit variety available.
The system had become surprisingly effective.
Each screen inside the hall represented one invasion route.
One battlefield.
One army.
Seven major offensives would launch simultaneously against Whitebeard territory.
Besides Mostima himself, six commanders would lead the remaining fronts.
Gar.
Wallace.
Shiryu.
Mobius.
Mog Raddon.
And Sladar.
The selection itself carried obvious meaning.
All seven had been personally chosen by Teach. Their strength was unquestionable. Among them, Mog Raddon had advanced the fastest. His Ancient Megalodon bloodline had fully awakened.
His completed form stood over fourteen meters tall, surpassing even the expectations originally held for him. He resembled a giant among giants. His destructive power far exceeded that of ordinary giant warriors.
Years of training within the Nightfall Pirates had transformed him completely.
He had even followed Ares to Elbaf, battling giant warriors to sharpen his skills.
Armed with a specially forged serrated greatsword, he became the third Nightfall Pirate to master Giant Combat Techniques.
Sladar was the second.
Each commander represented the spearhead of the Nightfall Pirates' military machine.
Several had already fought Whitebeard once before.
Now they had returned.
Stronger.
More experienced.
And far deadlier.
Mostima slowly looked across every screen.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"The Lord's command is simple."
His eyes sharpened.
"Show the world the might of the Nightfall Pirates."
The atmosphere instantly grew heavy.
"Crush the Whitebeard Pirates through absolute power."
"Seize their territory."
"They do not need such a vast empire."
Mostima leaned forward.
"And you do not need to show them mercy."
His voice became colder.
"We have no need for prisoners."
"Let them die gloriously on the battlefield."
"Use the blood of the Whitebeard Pirates to forge the immortal reputation of the Nightfall."
The words carried unmistakable traces of Teach's style.
Ruthless.
Dominating.
Uncompromising.
"When Whitebeard himself appears, the Lord will personally stop him."
A grin spread across Mostima's face.
"And the Whitebeard Pirates..."
"They will become our stepping stone."
The room erupted with excitement.
"So we're using Whitebeard as a stepping stone?" Shiryu chuckled while polishing Raikiri. His eyes gleamed with bloodlust. "The Whitebeard Pirates are famous for brotherhood. I hope they can endure the slaughter."
The blade in his hand emitted a dark crimson glow.
As if eagerly awaiting blood.
"Seize the territory."
Mog Raddon swung his massive serrated sword.
A shrill screech echoed through the air.
"And destroy everything standing in our path."
His eyes burned with killing intent.
Years ago, he had only been slightly stronger than Namur, the Whitebeard Pirates' Eighth Division Commander.
Now the difference was no longer small.
It was enormous.
His mastery of Observation Haki and Armament Haki had advanced at an astonishing pace.
Within only a few years, he had transformed into a genuine monster.
Among giant warriors, he already ranked among the strongest.
The Nightfall Pirates' thirty-thousand-strong Fish-Man Corps would also participate.
Over the years, more and more Fish-Men had joined the organization.
The Nightfall Pirates gave them something they rarely found elsewhere.
A chance to live beneath the sun.
A chance to travel freely across the surface world.
A chance to escape discrimination.
As a result, they had become one of the Nightfall Pirates' most important military forces.
Many Fish-Men still held complicated feelings regarding Whitebeard.
Some were reluctant to fight directly against the man who protected Fish-Man Island.
Yet intelligence gathering, naval warfare, sabotage, and underwater operations remained their specialties.
Those duties would still fall to them.
Wallace remained silent.
As always.
His crossed arms had become his trademark. His body had grown even larger over the years. The molten steel tempering process never stopped. Even while sleeping, his body continued adapting.
Scorching heat radiated from him constantly.
Ordinary crew members could not even approach him easily.
An indestructible body. Terrifying physical strength. Extreme temperatures. Powerful martial arts.
Together they had forged the monster known as Wallace.
Sladar continued lifting a mountain-sized barbell without pause.
Chains wrapped around one arm connected him to a massive ship anchor.
Every second was training.
Every breath was preparation.
Meanwhile, Gar devoured enormous quantities of food.
He needed energy.
A lot of it.
War consumed calories.
Mobius calmly stroked the scales of two enormous snakes beside him.
Voss stood nearby.
The reptiles coiled around each other, flicking their tongues.
Years of careful nurturing had transformed them into powerful beasts.
Not only were they massive and ferocious, but they had also mastered Haki.
Even among Beast Island's creatures, they ranked among the strongest.
Mostima surveyed every face.
Every pair of eyes.
Every warrior.
Within them, he saw the same thing.
War.
Blood.
And killing intent.
A satisfied smile appeared on his face.
"Make your preparations."
His voice echoed through the command hall.
"The war begins tomorrow morning."
"A full-scale offensive."