After the Roger Pirates made their escape, Garp's dog-headed warship ceased its pursuit.
The recent battle against the Roger Pirates had left many of the Marines gravely injured, and they needed time to recover.
Bogard, Garp's adjutant, was too seriously wounded to continue his duties. His position was temporarily filled by Aokiji.
And it wasn't just the crew that had taken damage. Garp's ship itself had suffered significantly from his series of reckless and frankly outrageous maneuvers. After some emergency patchwork repairs, it barely met the minimum seaworthiness standards. But in the harsh waters of the New World, it wouldn't make it very far.
Because of these conditions, Garp decided to head for the nearest naval port to properly repair the vessel before returning to Marineford.
Roger's inevitable confrontation with Charlotte Linlin was already set in motion. Once back at HQ, Garp planned to gather a force of powerful Vice Admirals and Rear Admirals, reorganize, and then set sail again.
As for deploying an Admiral, that kind of operation wasn't something a Vice Admiral like Garp could authorize. Sengoku only answered to Fleet Admiral Kong, and more often than not, Admirals had to remain stationed at Marineford.
Strictly speaking, Garp didn't have the authority to mobilize Rear Admirals or Vice Admirals either. But if he threw an arm around one of their shoulders and said, "Do me a favor," most of them would listen.
Garp knew all too well, his current crew alone could barely handle the Roger Pirates. If they pushed further into Totto Land, they'd risk an attack from the Big Mom Pirates as well.
And those folks were a different breed entirely. Numbers aside, they had no qualms about dealing lethal blows to the Navy.
If Garp ended up bogged down in a clash with Charlotte Linlin, it was anyone's guess how many of his men would survive.
Without proper preparations, charging in recklessly was out of the question.
Garp might be brash, but he wasn't thoughtless like Luffy. He had a brain and used it.
When he stormed Hachinosu in the future, the people he brought weren't the greenhorns aboard his ship now, they were members of SWORD, the Navy's elite.
Three days later, the dog-headed warship docked at the G-63 branch in the New World. After a brief period of rest and repairs, it set sail once more, heading toward Marineford.
The noonday sun hung in the sky like a dollop of soft caramel, its light warm and delicate.
The sea sparkled under its glow, with fish occasionally leaping from the waves to dance in the golden light.
Amid the vast ocean, the dog-headed warship, covered in patchwork repairs, forged ahead.
It had been a full two months since Garp had left Marineford, and the crushing defeat from just over ten days ago still lingered like a shadow over the ship.
Of those who'd fought in that battle, only about half had recovered enough to move around. The rest remained bedridden, too weak to even sit up.
Ironically, the engine room crew was now the most intact unit aboard, simply because their combat capabilities were generally poor. Most of them had passed out from the overwhelming pressure of Roger's Conqueror's Haki before they had a chance to get hurt.
Their unconsciousness, it seemed, had saved them.
Now, only a handful of Marines patrolled the deck, scattered along the perimeter with binoculars in hand, scanning the horizon. On a normal day, there would've been at least twice that number keeping watch.
Unlike the diligent lookouts, a red-haired boy in a low-ranking Navy uniform stood alone at the rail, staring out at the sea in a daze.
The ocean breeze tousled his crimson hair.
The Marines around him were used to his presence by now. They minded their own business, leaving the "deckhand" to his thoughts.
Suddenly, the boy clutched his chest as if struck by some unseen force. His knees buckled, and he slowly sank to the deck. His left hand gripped the railing tightly, his face twisted in pain.
"Brother Yoriichi! What's wrong, Brother Yoriichi?!"
His distress quickly drew the attention of a nearby Marine, who shouted in alarm and rushed to his side.
Yoriichi Tsugikuni knelt on the deck, head bowed, silent. The Marine's concern deepened, and he dashed off toward the cabin to call for help.
Before long, Garp and Aokiji came running onto the deck, quickly surrounding Yoriichi.
One glance was enough for Garp's expression to darken. He crouched beside Yoriichi and asked with worry,
"Yoriichi, what happened?! Are you injured? Are you sick?!"
"Doctor! Get the ship's doctor!" he bellowed, panic edging into his voice.
Yoriichi finally stirred, his voice raspy as he replied, "No need…"
"I'll be fine in a little while, Vice Admiral Garp."
Garp frowned deeper, clearly unconvinced. The ship's doctor arrived moments later. At Garp's insistence, he began examining Yoriichi, but after a brief check, he turned and shook his head at Garp.
Garp's eyes widened. He leaned in and muttered in disbelief,
"What?! Is it… fatal?!"
The surrounding Marines froze. Aokiji blinked, stunned, and turned sharply to look at Yoriichi.
Flustered, the doctor quickly waved his hands and said,
"N-No! Not at all! Yoriichi's perfectly healthy—I couldn't find anything wrong!"
"…What?!"
"Idiot! If you don't know, just say so, why the hell would you shake your head?!" Garp roared, shoving the doctor aside. He crouched next to Yoriichi, carefully studying the boy's face.
Yoriichi seemed much calmer now. The pain in his expression had eased noticeably.
As Garp knelt beside him, Yoriichi slowly rose, using the railing for support.
"Yoriichi, what was that about?" Garp asked, still bewildered as he noticed the color returning to the boy's cheeks.
"I'm fine, Vice Admiral," Yoriichi said, stretching his arms lightly. "It was just… part of my training."
Garp blinked. "Training? What kind of training gives you internal injuries?"
He scratched his head, completely baffled. Yoriichi hadn't sustained any visible wounds, but the pain he had shown moments ago was clearly real.
"Really, it's nothing serious," Yoriichi said with a small smile. "Look, I'm totally fine now."
Garp, still skeptical, had the doctor perform another round of checks. Only after confirming Yoriichi was indeed unharmed did he finally let it go and return to the cabin.
He'd been in the middle of a strategy discussion about the Roger Pirates' next moves.
Just a week ago, news had spread—Roger had made contact with the Big Mom Pirates. But it seemed things hadn't gone smoothly between the two crews. After a fierce clash, the Roger Pirates vanished without a trace.
Garp didn't believe for a second that Roger's crew had been wiped out. His instinct told him Roger had likely achieved whatever he set out to do and was already moving on toward his next goal. The meeting he and the other naval commanders were engaged in now was precisely to discuss where Roger might head next.
Now that he saw Yoriichi was unharmed, Garp didn't linger on deck. He turned and returned to the cabin to resume the meeting.
After Garp and the others left, Yoriichi stood at the ship's railing, gazing out at the sea. A smile slowly spread across his face.
"Finally… I did it," he murmured.
"But this is only the beginning. I need to proceed step by step."
During the return voyage, aside from expanding the range of his Haki, Yoriichi had also mastered the flow technique, allowing Haki to circulate through his body with precision.
Outside of his regular training, he'd begun developing a bold idea—one that had taken root in his mind for some time.
That idea was... to merge Haki with his breathing techniques.
Haki, which could strengthen muscle power and bolster physical defense, could potentially amplify the effectiveness of his breathing forms—training the body to even greater heights.
And after several days of trial and error, Yoriichi had finally succeeded.
Breath of the Sun, First Form: Dance!
Without warning, Yoriichi drew the long blade at his hip. With a steady breath, his heart thudded thump-thump, a deep, resonant pulse.
In the next instant, he unleashed a single, powerful slash.
A blade of Haki-infused energy, stretching four to five meters long, tore through the air and struck the ocean's surface.
In that moment, a deep gash, nearly a hundred meters in length, opened across the sea. It lingered for several seconds before the waters slowly surged back, swallowing the scar beneath the waves.
Yoriichi let out a low grunt and crouched down, clutching his chest from the strain. But his face was lit with joy and excitement, he had done it.
"I really did it!"
"Haki can merge seamlessly with my breathing forms, it enhances my physical abilities even further."
"Right now, even a short burst puts a huge strain on my body... but with time and training, the side effects will fade."
"If I can refine this Haki-infused breathing into a sustainable technique, my strength will undergo a complete transformation!"
That sea-splitting strike just now, had he relied on Haki alone to enhance his blade, the arc of energy would have reached only a few dozen meters. But now, with the integration of his breathing form, the slash had doubled in both range and power.
It could now carve a scar nearly a hundred meters long across the sea—and the depth of the cut had increased, too. The water took two or three seconds longer to return to normal than it had in his earlier tests.
It was this clear difference that confirmed to Yoriichi: his experiment was a success.
In the days that followed, Yoriichi continued refining the new breathing technique, pushing his body to adapt more quickly. The fusion of Haki and breath placed an enormous burden on his physique, but Yoriichi, with his ability to perceive the Transparent World, could sense exactly where his body's limits lay.
Because of that, his training remained precise and restrained, never once causing real harm to himself.
Beyond breathing techniques, Yoriichi also began integrating Haki into Soru, the Navy's high-speed movement technique. With the flow of Haki empowering it, Yoriichi's speed while using Soru increased dramatically.
Now, whenever he sparred with Kuzan, the latter would be sent flying in just one exchange—provided he didn't use his Devil Fruit powers. In terms of pure physical combat, Kuzan had already been left far behind.
Realizing just how terrifying Yoriichi's growth had become, Kuzan now actively avoided him. He'd go out of his way to steer clear, dreading the possibility of being roped into another grueling spar. And the few times Yoriichi did manage to catch him, Kuzan quickly made up excuses to slip away.
Left without a sparring partner, Yoriichi could only turn to Garp. And when Garp wasn't too busy, he'd make time to "offer some guidance."
But it only took one exchange for Garp to understand exactly why Kuzan had been dodging Yoriichi…
To his surprise, Yoriichi had grown much stronger again, his terrifying speed, the ever-sharpening edge of his slashes, and that increasingly formidable Armament Haki... All of it made Garp quietly alarmed.
At his current level, there were perhaps only a handful of people in the entire Navy who could confidently claim to hold the upper hand against Yoriichi Tsugikuni.
And if you excluded Devil Fruit users focusing solely on physical combat, then perhaps only Garp himself and his two old war buddies could truly suppress this boy.
"Heh heh heh... Zephyr," Garp chuckled under his breath.
"I really do know how to raise Marines better than you."
"Just wait, when you see what this kid's become, you're going to be in for one hell of a surprise!"
Garp's warship drifted its way home, stopping here and there to sweep away pirate scum along the route. After a month at sea, they finally returned to Marine Headquarters—Marineford.
Three months of life on the open ocean had left every Marine on board utterly exhausted. Even Yoriichi, upon catching sight of land again, couldn't help but let out a long breath of relief. His heart instantly felt lighter.
When they'd first set sail, he had been nothing but exhilarated. But now, after such a long stretch at sea, even he had begun to feel weary.
Peering ahead, he gazed at Marineford, so familiar, yet so distant, and couldn't help but sigh softly.
"Navy Headquarters… still feels like a stranger to me. I've spent more time on the sea than I ever have here."
At the harbor, a dense crowd had already gathered. These weren't just ordinary bystanders—they were the families of sailors, having heard word of Garp's return and come to greet their loved ones.
The Marines aboard Garp's ship weren't just soldiers. They were also sons. Husbands. Fathers.
Behind every sailor stood a family.
The moment the coastline appeared on the horizon, the sailors had already packed their things and crowded the deck, craning their necks to spot their families from afar.
Garp understood exactly how they felt. Once on deck, he left the officers in charge of tending to the wounded and promptly gave the command to disband. He granted the sailors a well-earned, two-week shore leave.
The instant the warship docked at the headquarters' port, the Marines on board could no longer contain their joy. Cheers erupted spontaneously.
As the gangplank dropped, eager sailors, bags slung over their shoulders—rushed down to the pier. In the sea of faces, they found their families. With open arms, laughter, and tears, they left the harbor one after another, wrapped in the warmth of homecoming.
One by one, the Marines descended to reunite with loved ones, filling the dock with the buzz of laughter and heartfelt embraces.
Yoriichi stood quietly at the rail, hands resting on the wooden frame. He watched the joyful reunions unfolding below, a gentle smile appearing on his face.
But it didn't last.
As the warmth of the scene sank in, his smile gradually faded, replaced by a quiet sense of melancholy.
How nice it must be to have someone waiting for you...
But I don't.
With a faint sigh, Yoriichi withdrew his gaze and turned back toward the deck. He was just about to ask Garp where they were headed next when he noticed someone climbing aboard the ship from the gangplank.
Odd.
They weren't getting off, they were getting on.
He turned his head and just in time, he saw a middle-aged man draped in a "Justice" cloak ascending the steps with steady strides.
The moment the man stepped onto the deck, he locked eyes with Yoriichi.
He grinned broadly.
"Oi! Yoriichi, I've come to take you home!"
"What're you still doing dragging your feet up here?!"
"You pack slower than a snail, I've been waiting ages!"
Yoriichi blinked, stunned. He hadn't expected him to show up here.
But what caught him off guard even more was that word,
Home.
He hadn't heard someone say that to him in... he couldn't even remember how long.
For a long while, he stood there in silence.
Then, a radiant smile bloomed across his face. He looked at the man and nodded.
"Yes, Zephyr-sensei. I'm coming."
*The real voyage will begin soon. After a several chapter, an exciting burst of ability will be seen.
*********
Hey everyone! I'll be dropping an extra 1 chapter once we hit 300 power stones! If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to spend some power stones. I'd really appreciate the support. Thanks a bunch!
For advance chapters, please do visit and consider joining me on Patreon, it really helps me out and I'd love to have you along for the journey!
p(a)treon.com/Lnee
*remove () to open it