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Not to mention that no one would ever again have to pay the suffocating Heavenly Tribute.
Songs and sobs echoed through the streets of countless towns all night long.
"Look, the 'War King' of Prodence has arrived!"
The ship slowly sailed into the immense strait that split the continent.
The docks were already packed with reporters holding Visual Den Den Mushi, their successive flashes almost blinding.
Had he not seen the fissure running through the Red Line in the distance with his own eyes, Elizabello II might almost have thought he was answering an invitation to the Reverie.
Of course, so many Fish-Men and Merfolk could never have appeared under that old institution's rule-his gaze swept over the newly risen port city, where races once hidden ten thousand meters beneath the sea now walked freely in the sunlight.
Sometimes, choosing the right side could bring about a sight like this.
When he entered the hall of the newly built castle beside the strait, the sight before him briefly checked his steps.
"This... really isn't the Reverie?"
Circular tables were arranged in rings, strikingly similar to the layout of the conference in his memory.
But the flags hanging overhead no longer bore the old cross emblem, but a family crest embroidered with twin dragons.
More breathtaking still, a glance around the seats revealed not only the heads of various nations, but also the Fleet Admiral, the three Admirals, and even figures like Whitebeard and Big Mom, all sitting calmly among them.
Special seats had also been set beside the long tables, with places for the Mink Tribe, Giants, Tontatta, the Fish-Man Race...
Fortunately, those qualified to attend as representatives of a nation at least knew how to read the situation.
No one suddenly rose and ordered the guards to have