The forest in the early morning still carried a hint of coolness. Sunlight filtered through the gaps between enormous leaves, casting dappled patches of light across the moss-covered ground.
"Boss! Boss! Look what amazing thing I found on that idiot noble's ship!"
An excited, slightly breathless voice shattered the quiet.
Marcus rushed over like a gust of wind, holding a sheathed longsword high above his head, unable to hide the pride on his face.
Sami rubbed his sleepy eyes as he jumped down from the thick branch of a giant tree.
After drinking the confiscated red wine with the giants until late last night, his head was still a little groggy.
"What is it… haaah—"
Sami let out a long yawn, even squeezing out a tear from the corner of his eye.
"It's early in the morning. Why are you making so much noise?"
"A sword! A Fine Grade Sword!"
Marcus presented the blade as if offering a treasure, carefully pulling the sword halfway from its sheath.
The blade glimmered in the morning light. Near the guard, the forging patterns formed faint overlapping layers resembling cherry blossom petals. Even someone like Sami—who knew little about swords—could tell that the weapon was exquisitely crafted.
"If I'm not mistaken, this sword is the legendary Ran Ying!"
"A Fine Grade Sword?"
Sami scratched his messy black hair, still disheveled from sleeping in the tree, as he tried to recall what he knew.
"Oh… right, I think I've heard of that. There are only fifty of them in the world, right? Something like the Fifty Fine Grade Works. Sounds pretty impressive."
He glanced at Marcus's hopeful expression and waved his hand casually.
"You giving it to me? I don't even use swords. Just keep it yourself. Besides, didn't your old blade chip when you fought that Triceratops last time?"
"What? A Fine Grade Sword?!"
A slightly surprised voice cut into the conversation.
Nostra Cahero had appeared at some point without anyone noticing. He was still wearing his impeccably neat formal suit, though his coat was casually draped over his arm.
His gaze immediately locked onto the sword in Marcus's hand, and he hurried closer to inspect it.
"Damn! It really is Ran Ying!"
Cahero's normally composed voice rose several degrees.
"It's said that when this blade is wielded by a true swordsman, the trajectories of its slashes become as elusive as falling cherry blossoms! I can't believe it ended up being collected by that North Blue noble… What a waste of a treasure!"
Seeing Cahero's reaction, Marcus quickly shoved the blade back into its sheath.
"Hey! What are you doing, Cahero?! I'm warning you—this sword is mine!"
"Last time when we divided the spoils and picked weapons, you—someone who uses two swords—grabbed two of the best ones! Then Alberto took another one, leaving me with whatever scraps you guys didn't want! Now that I finally found a Fine Grade Sword, nobody's taking it from me!"
The more he spoke, the angrier he became.
Cahero choked on his words after seeing Marcus guard the blade like a suspicious shopkeeper. He awkwardly stroked his neatly trimmed mustache and clicked his tongue.
"Cheapskate. I can't even take a look?"
"I'm not trying to steal it. But seriously, Marcus, your luck is ridiculous… Ran Ying… tsk."
Although he said he wasn't interested in taking it, the envy in his eyes was so intense it seemed ready to burn holes through the scabbard.
Watching the two officers bicker over a sword like children, Sami couldn't help but laugh.
He stretched lazily, his bones cracking crisply.
"Alright, alright. It's just a sword. Look how excited you two are."
"Marcus, the blade's yours. Use it well—don't disgrace its name."
He paused, a mischievous grin curling across his lips as he turned toward Cahero.
"As for you, Cahero, if you like famous blades that much, keep your eyes open during the next fight. Maybe you'll pick up a Great Grade Sword or even a Supreme Grade Sword."
"Boss, do you think legendary swords are seashells on the beach? Something you can just pick up?"
Cahero rolled his eyes helplessly, though the envy in his gaze toward Marcus remained completely undisguised.
"There are only so many famous blades in the world. This time Marcus really struck gold."
Marcus proudly hung Ran Ying at the most convenient spot on his waist. He even adjusted the angle deliberately so that everyone would notice it at first glance.
"Brother Dorry! Brother Brogy! We're heading out!"
Standing at the bow of the Swordfish, Sami waved energetically toward the two enormous figures on the shore, whose silhouettes resembled mountains.
"If I ever reach Elbaf, I'll make sure to pass along your greetings to your friends and family back home!"
"Thanks, Sami! Gahahahaha!"
"Gooooood—bye—!"
The crew members on the ship also shouted their farewells toward the shore.
They weren't only saying goodbye to the giants.
Sami's gaze also swept across the scattered members of other pirate crews gathered along the coast.
"Beat Pirates, Crown Pirates, Sky Whale Pirates, Twilight Pirates, Cormorant Pirates… everyone, farewell as well! The Grand Line is vast—maybe we'll meet again someday!"
Before his words even finished, voices filled with tears and frustration rose from the shore.
"Uwaaah! Damn it! Don't go, Riberra Sami! Let's have another Davy Back Fight! Just one more round! I'll definitely win Boss Cahero back this time!!!"
One of the former Twilight Pirates slammed his fists against the ground, crying his heart out.
His wailing triggered a wave of sorrow among several other former crew members who had also lost their captains in Davy Back Fights.
Meanwhile, on another side of the shore, several pirates from different crews who had chosen to remain on Little Garden until their Log Poses finished recording hugged each other in relief.
"Waaah… they're finally leaving…"
"Thank goodness… those monsters are finally gone…"
"This is only the second island… The Grand Line is terrifying! I don't want to go to the next island anymore!"
"I want to go home… I miss my mom…"
The despair and joy on the shore formed a sharp contrast to the high spirits aboard the Swordfish.
"Raise the sails! Set sail!" Sami ordered energetically.
Under the crew's skilled handling, the massive sails slowly unfurled.
The Swordfish—docked here for an entire year yet now far more formidable—gradually departed from the island that had witnessed a year of their blood, sweat, tears, and growth.
The bow sliced through the deep blue sea, leaving a long white wake behind.
Aldo rested his spiked club on his shoulder as he looked at the defeated pirates on the shore and snorted.
"What a bunch of pathetic losers."
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