[Sea Calendar Year 1490. An unprecedented war sweeps across the world. In order to fight you, the World Government mobilizes more than two million elite soldiers: one million Marine elites, eight hundred thousand elites from member nations, one hundred thousand Holy Land troops, and fifty thousand CP agents.]
[This battle will decide who rules the world!]
Even though this was already the system's final notification, Magnus still could not help tugging at the corner of his mouth when he saw it stubbornly clinging to a timeline twenty years in the future.
But when he saw that the World Government had even pulled out the troops stationed in the Holy Land Mariejois, Magnus knew the truth: they were going all in on this war.
"Never thought this day would really come, and so fast on top of it."
Her fiery red ponytail swaying behind her, Rona stood at the prow of the Millennium Falcon beside Magnus, her voice complicated.
"The day you left the Marines, you should have known this was coming."
"Yeah. Which is why I do not regret it."
Rona rested her hand on the long sword at her hip. These years since leaving the Navy had been the happiest of her life. She no longer had to chase a hollow ideal or violate her own conscience just to obey orders.
Because the person she chased stood right beside her.
Because now, there was no one left in this world who could order her around.
Dawn broke, casting golden light across the surface of the New World's sea. Magnus and Rona stood side by side at the prow of the Millennium Falcon, gazing into the distance.
At the end of the sea stood a towering landmass that split the world in two.
The Red Line.
The Marines' warships had already assembled. With more than two million elite soldiers, there was no island at the front edge of the New World large enough to hold that many troops in battle.
So if this was to be a final battle, then it would have to be fought on the sea.
In a world of pirates, the final destination naturally had to be the ocean.
More than five hundred colossal Marine warships sat across the waves. Beyond them, thousands more ships of all sizes lined up in depth.
You could not see the end of them at a glance.
Facing them was another formation of hundreds of warships. In the past, every one of those ships had flown its own brightly colored pirate flag.
At this moment, every mast carried only one emblem.
The flag of the White Wolf Pirates.
Even those pirate crews brought in as temporary allies were no exception.
"Why did you lot agree to help Magnus in a war of this scale?! We are going to die, we are definitely going to die!"
On board the Roger Pirates' ship, the Oro Jackson, the crew were wailing. Just looking at the scene before them was almost enough to make their legs give out.
They were not yet the future legendary crew of the Pirate King. They were just a group of rookies who had only set sail a few years ago and had not weathered many truly great storms.
Their very first massive engagement was a world scale naval war. The fact that none of them had already wet themselves was almost something to brag about.
"Shut up, all of you!"
Seeing his cowardly crew, Roger exploded.
"This is an exchange. Ever heard of that?"
In exchange for Magnus training them for a period of time, they would lend Magnus their strength once.
Roger had not imagined that this single favor would turn out to be the decisive battle itself. In his heart he had already cursed that kindly faced, black hearted old man half to death. But to turn tail and run now?
He could not afford that kind of disgrace.
"When the fighting starts, just focus on keeping yourselves alive. Aside from that, I doubt he expects us to make much of a difference."
As first mate, Rayleigh spoke calmly.
In his eyes, the deal with Magnus had not been a loss at all. On one hand, they had gained tremendous growth under Magnus's guidance. On the other, Magnus had smoothed things over between them and the Rocks Pirates.
Although the relationship between the Roger and Rocks crews was still strained because of their captains, at least the Rocks Pirates had returned the crewmembers they had previously captured.
For that alone, they owed Magnus a favor.
That was why, even though Roger was unhappy, he had still brought his crew to this battlefield.
"That damned old man."
Thinking of that grizzled "old man" who was over eighty but looked no older than his uncle, Roger's mouth twitched.
Despite already having two biological sons, the old man had looked him over seriously and asked if he wanted to be his son too.
A man born between heaven and earth was not meant to spend his life under another's heel.
A son?
Even an adopted son was out of the question.
As soon as he said that, Magnus had given him a sidelong look.
"There are plenty of people who want to be my son and never get the chance. If we go by age, with how young you are, calling you my grandson would already be generous."
After all, Roger was only in his early twenties, and Magnus was already over eighty.
At that age, most men would have great grandchildren.
That being said, it was all just banter.
Knowing Roger's personality, Magnus had never seriously expected him to accept being anyone's "son." And for Magnus himself, the idea did not hold much appeal either.
"I have to say, though, I really admire that old guy."
A man wearing sunglasses with two axes at his waist muttered, "If I can still satisfy that many women at his age, I would be happy even if it meant I could not get out of bed every day."
"Just hope you are not the one who cannot get it up and has to avoid women entirely."
The other crewmates burst into laughter.
The jokes washed away a lot of the tension.
They were nervous, of course, but the Roger Pirates were not some crew in their first year at sea. They had entered the New World two years ago. Since then, they had gone through the Osgu Island battle and received Magnus's personal training. The strength of everyone on board had changed drastically.
"In this war, that idiot Garp is definitely on the other side, right?"
Roger flexed his fists.
"This time, I am going to show him what I am really capable of."
"Achoo!"
On one of the Marine warships, Vice Admiral Garp, now promoted, scratched his nose and suddenly sneezed.
"That has to be that brat Roger."
He rolled off his reclining beach chair, scowling at the fleet flying the White Wolf flag in the distance.
Right now, the World Government and White Wolf fleets were facing each other from opposite ends of the sea, less than twenty kilometers apart.
War could break out at any moment.
In a conflict of this scale there was no such thing as a surprise attack. Cutting off supply lines was a joke. Every warship carried enough water and food to keep the crew fed for a month.
Was anyone expecting this battle to last that long?
Though he normally joked around, Garp's face was serious at this crucial moment. He opened a line on the transponder snail.
"Sengoku, do not you die on me."
"You too."
Both Garp and Sengoku, now Vice Admirals, had their own dedicated warships, each one a massive vessel carrying over a thousand Marines, its hull built from Adam wood.
The battle of Elbaf nine years ago had brought the Government enormous spoils. Warships built from the Adam wood felled there were far sturdier than ordinary ships.
Out of the five hundred giant warships currently in active service, fifty had been built from Adam wood.
In fact, given the quantity of Adam wood taken from Elbaf back then, there should have been more than enough to build all five hundred from the stuff.
But when the World Government finally realized they would have to fight Magnus at sea and began recalling all ships built from Adam wood, they made an unpleasant discovery.
Seven years earlier, in the battle of Sabaody, Magnus and Rona had set the Holy Land ablaze, leaving the World Government with a massive financial deficit.
To make up for the loss and maintain the Celestial Dragons' luxurious lifestyles.
They had put a huge amount of Adam wood up for public auction.
Originally they had planned to reserve half of the Elbaf spoils for shipbuilding. In the end, the amount that actually went into warships was not even one tenth of that initial half.
The rest had poured into the market.
Ordinary merchants did not need such top grade material to build their ships.
So a small portion flowed into the shipyards of member nations.
And the greater share disappeared into the black market or was purchased under the table by pirates, or simply taken by force.
The price of Adam wood on the black market was sky high. Even with so much flooding into circulation that its value dropped, enough to build a whole ship was far beyond the reach of small fry pirates, whether they were buying or looting.
And any powerful pirate would eventually drift into the New World.
When those who had acquired Adam wood in that way finally sailed into Magnus's domain, they were either smashed by the White Wolf Pirates or forced to submit. Their ships were basically confiscated.
Which led to a sight that made the Government's leaders want to faint.
Out of their thousand plus warships, only fifty were built from Adam wood.
But among Magnus's several hundred pirate ships.
Nearly half were made of Adam wood.
The most spectacular among them was, of course, the flagship over two hundred meters in length: the White Wolf Pirates' Millennium Falcon.
The giants of Elbaf also sailed enormous ships. But compared to the carefully refitted Millennium Falcon, their vessels still looked simple and crude.
One million against two million.
On the surface they were outnumbered, but in Magnus's eyes, only the one million elite Marines and the hundred thousand or so hand picked soldiers from the Holy Land and CP were truly worth paying attention to.
As for the member nation troops?
Cannon fodder.
Had the World Government actually managed to mobilize all of its member nations, some of those countries' elites might not have been inferior to Marines.
But under Magnus's threat, only a handful of member nations answered the call, and the quality of the troops they ultimately sent varied wildly.
Calling them "elites" was being generous. Less politely, they were little more than rabble.
Some of them pissed themselves at the sheer scale of the war.
Was this really a battle they were qualified to join?
By contrast, while Magnus's side also included undisciplined pirate crews, anyone who could roam the New World was not simple.
Even their cannon fodder was New World cannon fodder.
King against king, general against general, soldier against soldier.
They might be slightly behind in numbers, but in overall combat ability, Magnus's side was not necessarily any weaker than the World Government's.
Everyone knew the truth.
In a war at this level, the true deciding factor was always the handful at the very top. The rank and file existed to free those powerhouses to fight.
Take an Admiral for example.
One Marine Admiral could slaughter a hundred thousand regular soldiers in the blink of an eye.
But in reality.
Several Admiral candidate level fighters could hold an Admiral in place, and a single Admiral candidate could then be held by several elite Vice Admirals.
Step it down like that.
While an Admiral could wipe out ten thousand ordinary troops in a burst, in an ideal configuration those same ten thousand could free up several high level fighters of their own.
And then trade blows with an Admiral.
The World Government believed they held the advantage because they had more bodies. Magnus believed his side had the edge because his troops were far stronger.
Who would prevail? Only the battlefield could answer.
The blare of horns echoed across the sea.
With a roar of steam, the iron hulled battleships unique to the Marine side began to move. Dozens of these steam driven craft, along with the fifty Adam wood warships, launched the first charge.
On Magnus's side, almost all of the ships were sail powered.
It looked like a mismatch on the surface, but in a world where individual might reigned supreme, technological change still was not enough to sway the great tide.
None of Magnus's captains showed the slightest fear.
Hundreds of Adam wood warships surged forward in answer.
With Magnus's flagship at the very tip of the spear.
"It has begun."
Everyone felt the enormous pressure in that instant. The intersecting auras of millions of soldiers were enough to change the very sky.
Tempests?
Not today.
As the fleets on both sides surged forward to clash, more than ten Conqueror's Haki auras shot into the heavens, blasting apart the clouds for over a hundred kilometers.
You heard right.
More than ten Conqueror's Haki users.
Quantity became quality, especially when both the White Wolf and Government sides boasted terrifyingly strong wielders.
On the White Wolf side:
Magnus, Harald, Rocks, Newgate, Linlin, Shiki, Rona, Roger, Rayleigh, Jabba...
On the World Government side:
Imu, the Five Elders, Saint Lucas, Saint Claude, Kong, Garp, Sengoku...
Lacking Conqueror's Haki did not mean lacking top tier strength.
Imu revealed her true face before the world for the first time.
Even after eight hundred years, the woman sitting atop the world still possessed the appearance of a young girl.
Magnus did not dare underestimate her in the slightest.
A woman who had fooled the world for eight hundred years and ruled it from the shadows for eight centuries needed no further proof of her qualifications.
When Magnus saw her, his fighting spirit instantly surged to its peak.
"Imu, I am here to kill you."
(End of Chapter)
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