In the New World, within the territory of Totto Land, a merchant vessel flying the flag of the Atlantis Chamber of Commerce sailed steadily through the waves.
Its destination lay just ahead—the island of Terian.
Years ago, Terian Island had been nothing more than an ordinary island in the New World, unremarkable in every way. Its only advantage was its proximity to Whole Cake Island, the capital of Totto Land. Back then, though, Totto Land was neither stable nor particularly prosperous.
Now, Terian Island was officially part of Totto Land and had become its second most flourishing island after Whole Cake Island. Its economy, infrastructure, and public safety far surpassed those of the other islands under Big Mom's rule. It also stood out for another reason—it was the only island in Totto Land not named after a dessert or food.
While its economic success could be attributed to its closeness to Whole Cake Island, benefiting from its influence and trade, there was one special reason the island had risen to prominence: it was the hometown of the Bull of Heaven, Benn Ortoren.
Though it was called his hometown, Ortoren hadn't returned to Terian Island even once in the nearly ten years since he'd left.
He didn't really know why. It wasn't far from G-5, and he'd even been to Whole Cake Island, yet somehow, he had never come back to Terian.
Standing on the deck, the sea breeze brushed across his face, making him narrow his eyes slightly. As the island came into view—bustling and prosperous—it looked almost unfamiliar, nothing like the Terian he remembered.
"If I didn't know this was Terian, I doubt I'd recognize it even if I passed right by..." Ortoren murmured softly.
"So, you wanted to find traces of your childhood there, and I wanted to see where you once lived... but it seems neither of us will get our wish?" Gion asked, her tone carrying a faint note of regret.
"Perhaps..." Ortoren replied casually, his voice flat, lacking enthusiasm.
Gion glanced at him, wondering if this was what people called homesickness.
Soon, their ship reached Terian's harbor. Unlike their previous arrivals elsewhere, the islanders had cleared a special channel and reserved a berth just for them.
The moment the gangway was lowered, a red carpet unfurled from the pier to the ship. As Ortoren took his first step down, fireworks burst in the air, and a group of handsome men and beautiful women suddenly appeared, singing and dancing in lively celebration.
The spectacle left Ortoren feeling helpless. As he descended the gangway, a portly middle-aged man approached, leading a group of locals, all beaming with eager smiles.
Ortoren squinted slightly. The man looked familiar—could he really be the same sharp, capable town mayor from over a decade ago?
"Benn-sama! You've finally returned!" the man exclaimed warmly, though he kept a respectful distance.
Hearing that voice, Ortoren confirmed it—this was indeed the same mayor. He vaguely recalled that the man had once been a spirited leader, the kind who rallied the island's youth whenever pirates or bandits attacked. Ortoren himself had once joined them in those defenses.
But now, in less than ten years, that energetic man had turned into a round, heavyset figure. His fine clothes practically screamed wealth and indulgence. Clearly, as the overseer of Totto Land's only semi-autonomous island, he was living quite comfortably.
"Long time no see, Mayor," Ortoren greeted him with a faint smile. He couldn't remember the man's name, but politeness cost nothing.
The mayor froze for a second, then his eyes grew wet. "You remember me... you actually remember me..." he said, his voice trembling with emotion.
Exchanging a few polite words with the tearful man, Ortoren continued into the town. Just beyond the harbor, his eyes landed on a massive steel statue standing proudly in the center of the square.
He blinked. Wait—that was him.
"It really is you. Not even Admiral Sengoku had the nerve to put up a statue of himself," Gion said, her tone a mix of amusement and disbelief.
Ortoren was speechless. Still, he understood what this was about. The islanders had built it for a sense of safety, a symbol of protection. To them, the statue declared their reverence for him—perhaps even a plea for security.
As long as it stood there, it felt to them as though Benn Ortoren himself was still on the island, watching over and protecting them.
"Admirals are right not to do such things, and even Fleet Admirals dislike them. They all understand one truth..." Ortoren said quietly.
"What truth?" Gion asked, a little puzzled.
"Nothing lasts forever—especially in this world, on these seas. No one can truly remain eternal. The moment a statue is erected, the countdown to its fall begins," Ortoren said with a wry, self-mocking smile.
The nearby mayor broke into a cold sweat, not entirely sure what Ortoren meant by that.
But Ortoren didn't ask anyone to tear it down. He simply patted the mayor on the shoulder and said, "I came back this time just to see my hometown. Having a crowd around me only makes me uncomfortable. You should all go."
Once the crowd had dispersed, the mayor—seeing that Ortoren had no further interest in him—tactfully took his leave. The nearby townsfolk and merchants still stole glances from time to time, but it was far better than being completely surrounded earlier.
Ignoring the statue, Ortoren's mood seemed to lighten. As they walked, he pointed out a few old buildings to Gion.
"That place used to be the mayor's office. Looks like it's become some sort of port authority now. My old man used to take me there to collect protection money. That mayor we just saw? He was always trembling whenever he met my old man," Ortoren said with a laugh.
As they chatted, they gradually reached the edge of town—or what Ortoren remembered as the edge. In truth, the area had long been developed in every direction except the one they were heading. Over a decade of rapid growth had expanded the population and size of the town so much that the old settlement could no longer contain its prosperity.
"Why does this area look like it hasn't been developed?" Gion asked curiously, walking beside him.
"Because this is where my home is," Ortoren answered, his tone carrying a faint note of nostalgia.
Before long, a large farmhouse-style compound appeared at the end of the road. The neatly maintained walls made it clear that even if no one lived there, someone still kept the place in good order.
The gate wasn't locked. As Ortoren pushed it open, the first thing he saw was a large stone table. His last memory here was from years ago, when Katakuri had brought Cracker to visit him.
Not far from the table, near the corner of the courtyard wall, was a blacksmith's workspace. Seeing the forge, Ortoren smiled.
"My warhammer—I forged it there with my own hands. Ten years have passed, and I still haven't decided on a name for it..."
As he spoke, he turned and saw Gion wandering through the courtyard, quietly observing everything with a soft, gentle smile on her face.
"What are you doing?" Ortoren asked. "You look so happy."
"Walking here, looking at this house... I can almost imagine what your life used to be like. Every blade of grass, every tree, every trace of this place feels like it carries a piece of your past. I don't know why, but seeing it makes me feel this trip was worth it. It makes me happy," Gion said with a warm smile.
Hearing her words, Ortoren paused. Something softened inside him, but outwardly he only shook his head with a teasing grin.
"If you're hoping to find some embarrassing stories from my childhood here, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
When they stepped inside, the interior was spotless. Everything from years ago remained where it had always been, untouched.
Directly across from the entrance stood a small altar table, and on it rested a sword rack—empty. Ortoren stared at it for a long moment, lost in thought.
After his father, Benn Seronis, passed away, Ortoren couldn't bear to see his belongings. Everything that had once belonged to his father, he had buried with him. Only that blade and its rack had been left behind in the house.
He'd always thought of himself as someone who didn't dwell on the past. Yet now, staring at the empty sword rack, a sudden wave of longing rose in his chest—a feeling he hadn't experienced in ten years, returning all at once.
"The blade... I've already given it to her, Oyaji. The person you wanted to protect now stands at the very top of this sea. Both she and I... we haven't disappointed you, have we?"
Ortoren spoke softly to the empty rack, his voice quiet and full of unspoken emotion.