Southern Coast, Eve of the Storm
The sky above the southern coast was shrouded in layers of dark clouds. The sea wind howled, whipping up towering waves as though sounding the prelude to the coming war.
Waves crashed against the shore, spray scattering through the air, which was thick with the mingled scent of seawater and gunpowder.
On this battlefield on the verge of a storm, Whitebeard stood at the very front, his naginata planted quietly in the ground, his clouded eyes carrying the steady majesty of a mountain.
Behind him, Shanks casually scratched his red hair, a teasing smile curling at his lips as his fingers rhythmically tapped the sword at his waist—Griffin.
Enel sat cross-legged in midair, golden lightning dancing around him and illuminating his arrogant, disdainful face.
Shiryu leaned lazily against Raiu, a cigar clenched between his lips. Amid the drifting smoke, his blood-red eyes faintly gleamed with eager battle lust.
Out at sea, the World Government fleet advanced slowly like an iron wall, its black sails snapping violently in the gale.
Upon the foremost flagships stood five proud figures—the Five Elders—
Those monsters who had stood at the pinnacle of the world for centuries had finally broken their silence and were preparing to enter the battlefield in person.
"Heh, after watching for so long, you're finally ready to make a move?"
Whitebeard's deep, powerful voice rolled across the coastline. A trace of mockery showed in his smile as his huge hand slowly tightened around his naginata, and the air around him began to tremble faintly.
"..."
The Five Elders stood at the bow, their eyes utterly calm, as though gods looking down upon mortals.
The leader raised a hand slightly. In an instant, the sea wind stopped, the waves froze, and the air between heaven and