"Report, Fleet Admiral. According to our informants, three days ago the Arbiter went alone to the Whitebeard Pirates."
Sengoku took in a deep breath.
"Three days ago… that was the moment when that terrifying aura erupted."
"So it really was connected to you… Eryndor."
At this, he recalled the orders given by the Five Elders, and an involuntary headache began to form.
As expected, whenever something involved Eryndor, it was bound to shake the world.
"What about his pirate crew?"
The marine reported honestly, "They're still at their base on Hive Island. No movements so far."
Sengoku waved his hand. "Understood. You may leave."
As the footsteps faded away, Sengoku pressed his fingers against his forehead.
Countless witnesses had claimed they saw Eryndor flying across the sky. That man didn't even bother to conceal himself.
But why head for the weakest sea? What was he plotting… that even the Five Elders were so concerned?
Could it be… as he said, that Holy Grail capable of granting all wishes really exists?
"The Holy Grail… Eryndor, are you trying to stir the seas into chaos like Roger once did?"
Muttering to himself, Sengoku reached for the Den Den Mushi.
"Garp, you're in East Blue now, aren't you?"
Aboard the dog-headed warship, Garp chewed loudly on senbei.
"What is it, Sengoku? I'm on vacation, you know!"
Sengoku's tone remained grim, no trace of humor.
"Eryndor has crossed the Calm Belt and the Red Line. He's in East Blue now."
Garp continued crunching. "Huh? That guy's taking a vacation too?"
"Be serious, Garp!" Sengoku slammed his desk. "This is a world-shaking matter!"
"You must have felt it too—that surge of power three days ago. It was connected to Eryndor."
"Considering how he's been spreading rumors about the Holy Grail… we now have reason to suspect it truly exists."
Garp sat up from his lounge chair and stretched.
"So you're saying he knows where it is, yet instead of taking it for himself, he's making the information public?"
"Doesn't that sound exactly like his style?!" Sengoku roared.
"Keep a close eye on him! I'll dispatch Borsalino as backup, just in case."
When the line disconnected, Sengoku sighed heavily.
With both Garp and Kizaru, they should be able to handle most situations.
Picking up another transponder snail, Sengoku asked,
"Any news from the Whitebeard Pirates?"
"Fleet Admiral, we've heard they've been holding a banquet for three days straight. We haven't dared get close, so no further intel…"
"Continue monitoring them," Sengoku ordered with a nod.
If that was the case, then they could only wait.
Eryndor… what will your next move be? Will you strike in the open, or from the shadows?
But what Sengoku didn't know was—Eryndor, too, was waiting. Waiting for a hidden piece to be played.
---
On the deck of the Moby Dick.
"Lancer, come on, drink another!"
The "Little Sun" had no choice but to take another cup.
Though Heroic Spirits could not get drunk or exhausted, even he was beginning to feel weary. He had underestimated just how much pirates loved their banquets.
In these three days, he couldn't count how many cups of liquor he'd been forced to down.
But at the same time, he had grown close to the crew—
Quite literally, as each one insisted on testing the strength of the so-called "Divine Spirit."
At first, many refused to submit and challenged him, brimming with confidence that they could defeat a god.
But the results were obvious. Aside from Marco, who hadn't lifted a hand, no one lasted more than three exchanges against him.
They could all feel Lancer's overwhelming might, and in the end, they were utterly convinced.
Ace couldn't help but laugh heartily.
"Looks like I summoned one hell of a Heroic Spirit! The Grail is practically in our hands already!"
The "Little Sun" was, in truth, exasperated.
So you do remember we're supposed to be fighting a war, Master? Is a three-day banquet really part of the necessary preparations?
With deep concern, he addressed Ace.
"Master, you must never underestimate this. The Holy Grail War is brutal."
"What surprises me most is that you know nothing of the rules—not even whether this is a standard Holy Grail War, or a Greater Grail War."
"That is why we must be especially cautious."
"So I'll say this again: don't call me by my True Name. Just call me Lancer."
"Mmh, got it, got it, Little Sun," Ace replied through a mouthful of food.
"Little Sun"—that was the nickname the crew had given him, after all. He was the son of the Sun God.
Hearing his Master reply so casually, Lancer covered his face with his hand. This was going to be a long and difficult journey.
Suddenly, a chilling aura of darkness swept across the deck, sharpening Lancer's eyes in an instant.
Three nights ago, he had sensed this exact energy, paired with a sudden burst of magical power.
And it had seemed to come… from this very ship.
---
Deep below deck.
While cheers and footsteps filled the air above, the lower hold was steeped in cold silence.
Blackbeard sat before a circle drawn in unknown black powder upon the floor—a distorted imitation of Ace's summoning circle.
Muttering to himself, his Command Seals glowed a vivid crimson.
"So, you're saying Lancer has already noticed the anomaly?"
"How could that be? Didn't you claim you had the highest rank in Presence Concealment?"
"Even Whitebeard himself hasn't sensed a thing!"
"And yet you say he can see through it? No wonder I felt like he was seeing through me…"
Only his coarse voice echoed in the gloom.
After a pause, he asked,
"What should we do now? I don't want to be exposed too soon."
"Even though I summoned you… staying hidden on this ship is the best option."
Suddenly, pale-gray flames sparked out of thin air, arranging themselves into words upon the deck:
[Wait. And hold onto hope.]
"Tichy! Who're you talking to? Hurry up and join the party! Lancer hasn't even been properly introduced to you yet!"
At the sound of the voice, Blackbeard hastily swept the flames away, wiping the vicious expression from his face.
With his usual foolish grin, Teach turned. "Heh-heh, Thatch! What're you doing down here?"
Thatch laughed, approaching. "The apple pie's not being eaten at the banquet. And you haven't joined us once these past three days."
Noticing the circle on the floor, Thatch's eyes widened.
"Whoa, isn't this the same as Ace's summoning circle?"
Teach scratched his head with a goofy smile. "Yeah, I copied it. Thought it looked cool to set one up in my room."
"Come on then," Thatch pulled at him. "Join the party."
Teach shook his head. "Nah, I'm just a weak nobody without dreams. I'd just embarrass myself up there."
"What nonsense!" Thatch was incredulous. "You're family! Lancer too!"
"Come on, your favorite apple pie's waiting."
Blank-eyed, Teach let Thatch drag him away, still wearing that same clumsy smile.
But in the shadows behind him, his eyes gleamed like a predator's, and dark lightning crackled ominously.
From the arcs of that darkness, a cloaked figure in a tall hat emerged, grinning with vengeful fire in his eyes.
The massive shadow fell over Thatch. He turned sharply—
Only to see Teach standing behind him, blocking the light.
For the first time, Thatch realized how towering Teach truly was.
Lowering his head, Teach's face remained the same simple smile.
"What's the matter, Thatch? Do you feel a little… uneasy too?"
Scratching his head, Thatch laughed nervously. "Maybe it's just my imagination. Come on, let's go."
By then, the shadow had already vanished, leaving only a lingering voice that echoed in Blackbeard's mind:
[Wait. And hold onto hope.]
---
Out at sea, another pirate ship, carrying the Dark-Dark Fruit, sailed into Whitebeard's territory.
Observing its movements, Eryndor chuckled.
"What a secretive summoning… even I almost didn't notice. Good thing Jeanne pointed it out."
"To think, a Servant outside of the standard seven classes."
"Heh… things are getting more and more interesting."