The length of time no longer matters.
As long as divine power is reviving, then with the passage of time, that returning power will gradually reshape the entire island of Britannia. That transformation—what it will bring to Britannia—is what truly matters. That is what is most shocking.
Arthur let out a soft chuckle.
"I had my suspicions from the start… but I truly didn't expect divine power to begin reviving over Britannia."
Morgan crossed her legs and replied calmly, "Neither did I. This world has no mythology to speak of. And yet, divine power is reviving here. It seems that as Britannia itself recovers, the powers that once belonged to it are returning as well."
Arthur nodded.
Standing by the window, he gazed out at the increasingly prosperous Britannia Island. A faint smile rose to his lips. For a king, nothing brings greater satisfaction than watching his kingdom flourish with his own eyes.
As for those who destroy their own nations with their own hands… well. Those people clearly have something wrong with their heads. Arthur genuinely believed such mindsets were abnormal.
Morgan's lips curved upward slightly as she watched Arthur standing before her. A fleeting smile passed through her eyes.
She had never imagined that she and her younger brother would one day stand together like this.
Once, they had been enemies. Rivals. Opponents walking different paths.
But now, thinking back on it… had that rivalry ever truly meant anything?
Back then, she hadn't understood. She had taken it so seriously—something that, in hindsight, had been utterly meaningless.
Morgan shook her head lightly and said nothing more.
The siblings stood there in silence, savoring the rare calm.
And yet—
Outside, like a storm gathering beyond the horizon, the entire sea was shifting. The winds of change were already in motion. One misstep, and the price to be paid might be beyond what anyone could bear.
Crack!
A bolt of lightning tore through the sky. Heavy rain began to fall—even over Britannia. After all, even Britannia has storms.
"Hmm?"
A man stood in the downpour. He raised a hand, and the torrential rain around him seemed to dissipate as if erased.
Arthur walked calmly through the storm with Lamorak at his side, utterly unbothered.
Inside, Agravain continued working at his desk as if nothing unusual were happening.
Elsewhere, everyone carried out their duties with vigor. Each had their role. Each had their mission. No one in Britannia simply existed idly.
And yet—
Everyone could feel it.
A subtle, oppressive pressure hanging in the air.
As if something unseen was pressing down on them, stirring an instinctive chill deep in their bones.
Outsiders would never understand it.
Just like this sudden storm—
It was a harbinger of what Britannia would soon face.
---
Boom!
Thunder roared.
Amid the raging storm, a pirate ship slowly approached an isolated island and docked.
"Damn it! Where did this storm come from all of a sudden?"
"What a pain in the ass!"
"Yeah!"
They complained—but the grins on their faces were twisted and savage. Each looked like a demon clawing its way out of hell. Just standing there, they exuded a terrifying aura.
"Well now," one of them sneered, "considering what we're about to do… isn't weather like this perfect?"
Their killing intent was overwhelming.
These pirates of the New World were madmen through and through. Their eyes burned with nothing but violence. They were lunatics—true monsters.
Footsteps approached from behind.
A towering figure emerged through the rain.
Ochoku.
He stroked his beard and said flatly, "Calm the hell down, you brats. The war hasn't even started yet. Don't get ahead of yourselves."
"Hahahaha!"
"Boss!"
"Don't worry!"
They laughed wildly.
Ochoku laughed as well.
"You lot… Listen up. Don't underestimate the enemy. We're landing soon. Shut your mouths and stay sharp. Got it?"
"No problem!"
They answered in unison.
Over the past six months, Ochoku had assembled a pirate crew of five thousand—a massive force. Every single one of them was a notorious criminal of the seas, subdued and brought under his command.
He knew full well what kind of crew he had built.
It was just like the Rocks Pirates.
No loyalty.
The moment weakness appeared—even the slightest crack, they would turn on him without hesitation. Betrayal would be instant and fatal.
But he had no choice.
If he wanted rapid military strength in a short time, this was the fastest way.
Through the storm, Ochoku and his men advanced inland. Deep within the forest stood newly constructed buildings.
This was no deserted island.
Many had gathered here.
Silver Axe stepped forward, grinning viciously.
"You're finally here, Ochoku. Took you long enough."
"I brought something good," Ochoku replied. "Picked up a batch of fine weapons from the black market."
Silver Axe nodded. "Come in."
Inside the central building, several others were already waiting.
Six in total—including Ochoku and Silver Axe.
Each was a formidable figure in the New World.
Their purpose was obvious.
Britannia.
One pirate sneered arrogantly.
"So you finally showed up, Ochoku."
Ochoku ignored the provocation and went straight to the point.
"We all know why we're here. No need for pointless talk. What do you want?"
Laughter filled the room.
"You're blunt, I'll give you that!"
"Interesting!"
"Treasure!"
"Treasure!"
"What else?!"
Their eyes gleamed with greed.
They cared about nothing else.
Not ideology. Not territory.
Only wealth.
"Take down Britannia," Ochoku said calmly, "and all the treasure is yours."
The discussion concluded.
One by one, the pirates left.
In the room remained Ochoku, Silver Axe—
And a third figure leaning silently against the wall in shadow.
When had he arrived?
No one seemed to notice.
"Silver Axe," Ochoku said with a cold smile, "their greed is disgusting."
Silver Axe chuckled.
"That's normal. If they weren't greedy, they wouldn't be here. You built your crew just like Captain Rocks did."
"I had no choice," Ochoku replied. "This was the fastest way."
Silver Axe nodded.
They had all left the Rocks Pirates carrying the same flaw—treating crewmates as disposable tools.
Only Charlotte Linlin, who called her crew her family by blood…
Only Edward Newgate, who treated his crew as sons…
The rest walked the old path of Rocks—whether they admitted it or not.
From the shadows, the third figure finally spoke.
"Relax. With the resources he provided us… our strength has grown tremendously. If we still fail, that would be the real surprise."
His voice was calm.
But the implication was chilling.
They were not alone.
Someone else was backing this war.
And the storm was only just beginning.
---------------------------------///
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