The banquet was in full swing.
Charlotte Linlin had descended from her lofty seat to mingle with the leaders of various rare races. With her signature wild laugh, she encouraged them to send some of their kin to settle on Cake Island, furthering her dream of racial harmony across the Ten Thousand Nations.
Naturally, none of these clan leaders dared refuse her. They eagerly sent their direct descendants as tokens of goodwill—both to curry favor with Charlotte Linlin and to strengthen their ties with the mighty Hell Pirates.
After all, Charlotte Linlin wasn't just Crimson Queen—she was also the recognized matriarch of the Hell Pirates. And with a bounty of 1.5 billion berries hanging over her head, her fearsome power spoke for itself.
At the joint birthday celebration of Princes Hades, Osiris, and Princess Kanna, guests arrived with extravagant gifts, each trying to outdo the next in hopes of winning Brook's favor.
Who knew? If Brook was pleased, he might grant them control over a prosperous island… or priority access to the cutting-edge weapons developed by none other than Dr. Vegapunk!
"World Economic News Agency! The Moore family presents a newly discovered gold-mining island!"
"Deep Sea Current Transport Company! The Umit family offers 500 kilograms of Armament Black Gold!"
...
"The Germa Kingdom of the North Blue! The Vinsmoke family delivers 200 kilograms of rare Memory Alloy!"
"King Mars of Fishman Island's Ryugu Kingdom sends 10,000 seabed surveillance sea slugs!"
...
And then—
"From Dragonstone Island in the New World—the Targaryen family presents the Zoan-Type: Mythical Beast—Frost Dragon Fruit!"
BOOM!
The loudspeaker Homie's voice echoed across the venue, shaking the entire hall. The underground powerhouses in attendance all froze—eyebrows twitching in disbelief. That gift stole the spotlight in an instant.
A Mythical Zoan?! That's not a gift, that's a national treasure! Couldn't they have saved that for one of their own?
Even Brook stood up, visibly intrigued. A Mythical Zoan was a rare find—and a Frost Dragon at that?
"Kanna! If the Electric Dragon isn't your thing, maybe this icy one will suit your silver hair better!"
"Yohohoho! Bring that fruit up!"
Brook couldn't believe that anyone would dare present a fake to him—especially not during such a grand occasion. If this turned out to be a bluff, he'd let the world witness what it meant to anger a true Overlord.
From the crowd emerged a silver-haired girl with violet eyes, cradling a treasure chest in her arms. She was thoroughly inspected by the Homies and chess-piece guards along the way.
But no one believed she'd attempt anything foolish—not here, not at a party filled with monsters who could level countries.
"Kneeling respectfully before Lord Brook—the Kingdom of Westeros, Dragonstone! Daenerys Targaryen offers her greetings! Happy birthday to Prince Hades, Prince Osiris, and Princess Kanna!"
Daenerys bent on one knee and presented the chest with both hands. She could have let a waiter deliver the gift, but she had a reason for this personal audience—an urgent plea that only Brook could answer.
She had smuggled her family's sacred treasure, the Frost Dragon Fruit, to this island—risking life and limb to bypass the forces that barred her way. She needed her voice heard by a god.
Brook's eyes widened.
She looked exactly like that silver-haired queen from Game of Thrones… Was this reality? Had A Song of Ice and Fire somehow crossed into his world?
"Thank you for your gift. I like it very much. Now tell me… what is it you want in return?"
Brook opened the chest and lifted the Devil Fruit. A chill rose from its spiral markings. Indeed—it was real. A Mythical Zoan, no doubt.
Perfect for Kanna.
"I dare not ask for rewards," Daenerys said, lowering her head, her voice trembling. "I only beg Lord Brook to aid my kingdom. The undead have risen in the North. Our people are dying. Please… save us."
Brook's fingers paused, his tone softening. "Tell me everything."
Daenerys inhaled sharply and spoke with urgency.
"Our Kingdom of Westeros borders the Ice Kingdom, homeland of the Ice Giants. The Night King—Barrow—slaughtered my father and claimed our northern frontier. Our country is in chaos. Rebels have risen, trying to seize power. My siblings… they're all dead."
Tears welled in her eyes, but she forced herself to stay composed.
"I escaped Dragonstone with the Frost Dragon Fruit under the protection of our last loyal captain. This is my plea for justice!"
The crowd had gone silent, listening intently.
"Tch. Brother Brook," muttered Golden Lion Shiki with a grimace, "that bastard Barrow… I was gonna deal with him, but I had to put it off for this party."
He clicked his tongue in frustration.
"That guy's been camping near our borders. He's in the snowy lands just beyond our reach, hiding among the Ice Giants. And since we're still trying to recruit those giants, I didn't want to make a mess."
"And now you show up begging in front of the birthday party…How embarrassing."
Brook raised a brow. "The Night King, huh? And he killed a king on our turf?"
His voice turned cold, eyes gleaming.
"Doesn't matter if he's the old Ice Demon's grandson—I'll cut him down myself. The dignity of the Hell Pirates will not be mocked."
"The Night King wields the Shadow-Shadow Fruit!" Daenerys added. "He steals shadows, uses them to raise corpses into zombie White Walkers. Many of them were once my kingdom's own people!"
Brook's expression darkened further.
"A user of the Kage Kage no Mi, huh..."
He tapped the Frost Dragon Fruit in his hand, thoughts racing.
A Mythical Zoan delivered on a silver platter. A user of the Shadow Fruit stirring chaos on his borders. A silver-haired Dragon Queen kneeling before him.
-----------------
With Daenerys Targaryen's plea handled, the grand birthday celebration resumed. But after the dramatic reveal of the Mythical Zoan: Frost Dragon Fruit, many factions suddenly felt their own carefully prepared gifts had lost their luster.
Still, no one dared back out. One by one, they presented their tributes. Brook, ever the meticulous host, had the gifts recorded and arranged return favors based on their value. Some were practical. Others were symbolic. But one thing was certain—many used the chance to sneak their descendants into the martial arts academy Brook had founded.
Even attending one class was enough to boast, "I trained under the Overlord!" It didn't matter if they only stayed long enough to sweep the dojo floors. That kind of bragging right? Priceless.
Indeed, when you're strong enough, people trip over themselves just to forge a connection. Real benefits or not—being able to name-drop an Overlord was a flex in itself.
Once the banquet concluded, the various forces dispersed to explore the Hell Pirates' famed Eighteen Islands. Some went shopping for weapons, potions, or rare services. Others studied the local business models in hopes of replicating them back home.
---
Meanwhile, at the Golden Palace on Ballon Island—
The three royal toddlers huddled around the Frost Dragon Fruit, eyes full of curiosity. But Brook, ever the responsible father figure, wasn't about to hand over a Mythical Zoan to three-year-olds.
"You can have it… when you're not still in diapers," Brook chuckled, placing the treasure inside his private vault.
He turned and admired his Devil Fruit collection—a gleaming shelf of power, each fruit a symbol of conquest or diplomacy.
With a satisfied grin, Brook muttered, "I hope those Celestial Dragons in God Valley have a stash half as impressive. They've had hundreds of years. Don't disappoint me…"
---
The next day—
Still no word from Rocks. Brook had asked him to send a top officer to stir up trouble at Sabaody and distract Kong. And yet… silence. Tch. He wants Brook to rally an army against the Navy but can't even manage a basic diversion?
Not wasting time, Brook decided to escort Daenerys Targaryen himself—to Winter Island, just beyond the border of the Ice Kingdom. Did that so-called Night King, Barrow, really think hiding in the Ice Kingdom made him untouchable?
Brook scoffed. With his current strength, not even an ancient Overlord clinging to life would scare him. If the Old Ice Demon dared interfere, Brook would happily add another high-level soul to his collection.
Granted, the freezing climate of the Ice Kingdom worked well with the Shadow-Shadow Fruit. The corpses wouldn't rot and turn to bones as quickly. Efficient, in a macabre way.
Brook mused aloud, "I always wondered… in the original Moriah era, didn't those zombies stink? How did the Straw Hats stand that smell? Did Moriah and Dr. Hogback embalm them or what?"
---
Daenerys, standing beside him on the golden airship, bowed deeply.
"Lord Brook… I truly can't thank you enough. For coming yourself to save my people… I have nothing worthy to repay you. But I'll never forget this kindness."
With that, she boarded the ship with her guards, returning the easy way—on the strongest flying fleet in the New World. A far cry from the perilous journey she endured to get here.
I was right to take the risk, she thought. Now, I'm flying home with a legend.
Brook glanced at her and muttered, "You paid your dues. And I'm curious about this Night King, Barrow."
He half-expected the dragon girl to make a marriage proposal, but no. Just a loyal subject's gratitude.
Hmph. Lacking sincerity, he mused.
Daenerys, hearing the cold edge in his voice, felt her courage waver. Her brief spark of excitement dimmed instantly. She lowered her head in silence.
He's terrifying… so distant. But he really is my idol. The one who conquered the New World and built an empire!
She remembered how gentle Brook seemed with his children earlier. Warm like a spring breeze. I want that warmth… not this icy detachment.
Then—her eyes lit with resolve.
"Lord Brook! I… I want to become the Queen of Westeros! Please… crown me! I swear eternal loyalty—to you, and you alone!"
Brook blinked.
Daenerys stood proud, despite the tremble in her voice. Her family was dead—her father, brothers, and sisters all murdered. She was the last Targaryen.
To reclaim Westeros… she needed a throne. And to secure that throne, she needed a protector. A symbol. A god.
Who better than Brook, the Overlord?
"If I stand beside you, no one will question my right to rule. If I become yours… my bloodline can flourish again!"
Brook tilted his head, amused. "So you want to be queen? Fine by me. I heard your family can tame dragons. Do you still have dragon eggs on Dragonstone?"
His question wasn't idle curiosity. Last night, Antonio and Moore Thomas had sent in a report: Dragonstone might hold the remnants of a long-lost draconic legacy.
And there was that infamous tale—Ryuma Shimotsuki, the dragon-slaying swordsman from Wano, once felled a great beast. Some suspected that dragon hailed from Dragonstone.
Even the World Government had made moves to plunder the island's dragon bones and eggs—hoping to clone or revive them.
Brook remembered Vegapunk's old experiment to artificially create dragons at Punk Hazard. Not very successful, he recalled.
---
"Yes, Lord Brook," Daenerys nodded. "Our ancestors once rode mighty dragons. But over time, they began dying out. Eggs stopped hatching. We thought it was the end…"
She lowered her gaze.
"Now, we only have stone-like eggs in the Dragon Tomb. No one knows if they can be revived. But the Night King—he's been trying to breach the tomb, to steal the dragon corpses."
She hesitated, then added, "Oh, and… there was a pirate. A man named Roger. He visited Dragonstone once. He helped us repel the Night King during one of his early assaults."
Brook's eyes sharpened.
Roger?
"We offered him hospitality. The next morning, he and his crew were gone. Our guards were all unconscious outside the tomb. We still don't know how."
Daenerys had clearly done her homework. She knew the Roger Pirates had a connection to Brook. She hoped it would impress him.
Brook narrowed his gaze.
"Roger… was also after dragon eggs?"
He clenched his fist, thoughts racing. That bastard promised to call him if he ever saw one!
Did he find one… and never tell me?
<><><><><><>
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