Hakoku Passed Down Through Generations

At the exact moment the purple-black cage of flames took shape, two figures rushed into the reception hall one after the other.

At the front was a red-haired man. The famed blade Griffin in his hand had already been drawn, Conqueror's Haki coiling around its edge. He was just about to strike, but the instant he saw the scene before him, all his movements froze.

Following behind him, Gaban's eyes widened as well. The twin axes in his hands hung suspended in midair, leaving him unable to advance or retreat.

The two stared at each other.

The eerie light of the purple-black flames reflected in Gaban's eyes as he hesitantly looked toward the blond figure wrapped in fire.

"You... could you be?"

In Dawn's current state, he was nothing but a void to Observation Haki—there was nothing there at all. Even though Gaban had seen him a year ago, he was not entirely certain now.

"It's me. This isn't the time for small talk. We'll talk after the battle is over."

Dawn did not turn around. He landed beside the pentagram magic circle carved into the ground and pressed his palm against its center. A black vortex in his palm began spinning madly.

"Mr. Gaban, you know him?"

Shanks walked over to Gaban, who was examining Jarul's condition, and asked in a lowered voice.

"Then do you know his true identity?"

Ever since catching a brief glimpse of the mysterious man in the Holy Land of Mary Geoise a year ago, Shanks had been secretly investigating his identity.

But after a year of investigation, he had found nothing.

"I know. I met him once a year ago."

After examining Jarul's corpse, Gaban shook his head heavily.

"Ida survived because of him. Don't worry, he's on the side opposing the World