Rocks' repeated invitations were like tossing a burning boulder into the icy heart of Elbaf's lake. All it did was stir violent ripples of fury before sinking into a bottomless pit of rejection.
Harald's resolve was as unyielding as the ancient glaciers buried beneath Elbaf—frozen for thousands of years, never melting, never bending.
No matter how Rocks tried—whether with his wild dream of overturning the world or with the looming threat of force—the captain of the giant warriors had only one answer:
Elbaf would remain neutral. They would never join his mad crusade to destroy the world.
"Tch. What a dull, stubborn fool." Rocks finally lost patience. He rose, his black coat sweeping behind him as he turned without hesitation. "If you want to play watchdog, then keep guarding this frozen wasteland. We're done here!"
No goodbyes. No pointless words.
Tanma, Newgate, Shiki, Stussy, Ochoku, Malon, and Silver Axe followed him out, leaving the magnificent palace under the cold, watchful eyes of the giant warriors. Once more, they stepped into the howling winds and endless snow of Elbaf.
The massive gates closed behind them—slowly, heavily—as if sealing off two different worlds.
Their ship tore through sheets of ice, sailing away from that white continent forgotten by time. When Elbaf's tallest peaks finally sank beneath the horizon, whatever fleeting sense of unity existed among the Rocks Pirates vanished just as quickly.
"Well, looks like this negotiation didn't go so well." Shiki spoke first, cigar clenched between his teeth and his tone as carefree as ever. "Guess I'll head back. My fleet still has business to handle. Let me know when something interesting comes up." Without waiting for Rocks to reply, he used his Floating-Fruit power and rose effortlessly into the sky, vanishing toward his fleet.
"Heh, what a wasted trip," Ochoku scoffed. "Didn't get anything but frostbite. I'm leaving too, Rocks. Next time, pick a target that's worth the trouble." His men were already waiting offshore, and moments later, his sails disappeared into the mist.
Stussy adjusted her sleeves with a graceful smile. "The Giants won't be joining us, then. What a pity. I suppose I'll return as well. Until next time, Captain Rocks." Her smile was flawless—her eyes, unreadable. She brushed past Newgate with a teasing glance before vanishing into the snow.
Malon and Silver Axe exchanged brief nods before departing too. None of them were truly subordinates of Rocks—they were powerful pirates with their own fleets and territories. This alliance was one of convenience, not loyalty.
In the span of a few minutes, the crowded deck was nearly empty. Only Rocks, Tanma, and Newgate remained—Newgate still drinking straight from a massive barrel.
"Gurarara… all gone, huh? A bunch of impatient bastards," Newgate grumbled with a lazy grin.
Tanma stood at the ship's railing, watching the departing fleets with calm detachment. He understood better than anyone that the Rocks Pirates weren't a crew—they were a gathering of predators, drawn together by ambition and greed.
They weren't comrades. They were a storm held together by force and profit, and once the winds changed, they scattered.
Rocks didn't seem to care. His expression didn't waver; it was as though this had been nothing more than a routine meeting that hadn't gone his way.
He walked to the bow, staring out over the raging New World seas. The fire in his eyes hadn't dimmed in the slightest.
"A bunch of useless trash," he muttered coldly. Then, without turning, he said, "Tanma, Newgate—doesn't matter if they leave. The plan moves forward. We'll find a new base."
Over the following days, their ship sailed through perilous waters. With his sheer power and eerie intuition, Rocks eventually discovered a fitting island.
An island shrouded by whirlpools. Jagged reefs and violent currents formed a natural fortress—impossible to invade, perfect for concealment.
The land was rich in resources yet untouched by men. At its center lay a sunken basin formed by an extinct volcano.
"This is it," Rocks declared from the crater's edge. "Clear the beasts. This island will be ours. The wave that will change the world begins here!"
And so it did. With Rocks as the core and Tanma and Newgate as his right hands, they began shaping that savage island into a fortress of darkness.
But Tanma didn't stay long.
He had his own path—his own ideals that only partly aligned with Rocks' insane vision of destruction.
After a short talk with Rocks, Tanma set sail alone into the mists of the New World. Rocks didn't stop him. For men like Tanma, he knew separation was only temporary—driven by purpose, not betrayal. Their paths would cross again.
Tanma's journey wasn't aimless. He was searching for something—or someone.
In his wake, several Marine fleets met grim fates. Battles were short and devastating; three vice admirals and their ships sank into the abyss, swallowed by the cold sea.
Tanma's name began spreading like wildfire through the New World—a whisper of dread carried even to Marine Headquarters, along with his ever-growing bounty.
Just a few days after leaving Rocks—
The sea breeze carried salt and mist beneath a clear, endless sky. Tanma's small boat drifted near an uncharted island as he refilled his water tanks.
Suddenly, a bold, carefree laugh echoed across the waves.
"Hahaha! Rayleigh, look! That little island ahead—let's check it out! There might be treasure!"
A small, shabby-looking sailboat burst through the waves, cutting toward the shore.
At the bow stood a young man wearing a straw hat, his smile bright enough to scatter the clouds. A long sword hung at his waist, and his eyes gleamed with boundless freedom and unshakable resolve.