Chapter 246: Storm on the Horizon: The Balance of Power Shifts

After sailing for several days in the New World, Garp once again picked up word of Roger’s whereabouts. Now, he was leading his fleet toward an unknown sea, determined to hunt Roger down.

On the journey, Garp also learned of the incidents on Hachinosu and other islands. As he tracked Roger, he kept collecting clues about who could’ve caused such destruction.

Given everything he’d pieced together, Garp figured only Karl could unleash an attack that devastating.

Golden Lion’s strikes weren’t enough to shatter an entire island or silence everyone before they could even call for help. Newgate was still being watched by the Navy and wandering the New World, far too tied up to be the culprit.

Unless some old monster had crawled out from hiding—but even if one did, what reason would they have to target the Navy? And if they wanted something, would they really have kept things this quiet for days?

He shared his suspicions with Kong, who was already doubting whether Karl was behind this.

Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, Garp handed a detailed report over to the Five Elders, leaving it for them to judge.

Inside the World Government’s meeting chamber, Saint Mars finished reading the report aloud. “What do you all think?” he asked.

“We can’t ignore this information from Kong.”

“Exactly. If Karl’s really behind this, having power like that in his hands is just plain terrifying.”

“This kind of destructive force is nearly on par with the Pluton.”

“If Karl really possesses a weapon that can wipe out an island in one blow, we absolutely have to place restrictions,” said Saint Derlin, the Elder in charge of intelligence, his tone grave.

The other Elders exchanged uneasy glances. If Karl truly wielded the power of the Pluton, they would have no choice but to consider destroying him.

But up against Karl’s own strength, even if they made a move, there were no guarantees they could bring him down. This was something they might have to report to Lord Im.

“Lord Im has only recently gone into slumber. Is it really wise to disturb them now?”

Saint Nasjuro raised a hand to stop Borg, his voice calm. “No. Karl has reached the point where he must be eliminated.”

“Our very purpose is to maintain balance on the seas.”

“With Karl’s arrival, the balance is shattered. He must be removed.”

“That’s right. According to reliable sources, Karl should be in North Blue right now.” Saint Derlin handed over the gathered intel.

After the Lanternfish’s death, a device inside its body shut down. The last signals it sent out projected its final moments.

The images showed Karl wielding a strange weapon, blasting the Lanternfish to pieces in a single blow.

That mysterious weapon was actually an ether-forged barrel Karl used to boost the Doomsday Cannon’s firepower, making its shots even deadlier.

“Looks like Karl really does have some ancient tech up his sleeve.”

“Let’s vote. Do we wake Lord Im?”

Three hands went up. Two stayed lowered.

Saint Mars made the call. “Three to two. Majority rules—we’ll wake Lord Im.”

Decision made, the Elders filed out one by one, heading for the innermost chamber to rouse the sleeping Im.

Deep in the New World, Garp eyed the whale-shaped warship docked on a nearby island. “Stop the ship!” he barked.

“Bogart, keep an eye on the ship.”

Garp took to the air alone, heading for the distant islet. He wanted to scout ahead—was that really Whitebeard himself? If Whitebeard and Roger were together, he might have to call off the entire pursuit.

Going up against the two most legendary pirates wasn’t something he could risk—not if he wanted to keep his men alive.

Of course, if it turned out to be just one of Whitebeard’s subordinates’ ships, that would be another story.

“Gurararara!”

“Roger! Long time no see!”

And sure enough, it was the worst-case scenario—Roger and Newgate right in the center of the island, downing drinks like old friends.

Judging by the battered landscape, the two crews had clearly clashed in a fierce battle.

In the New World, if Whitebeard wanted a fight with someone on equal footing, only the Roger Pirates could deliver.

The Roger Pirates always had the smallest crew, but after what happened at God Valley, the two groups had forged a strange sort of friendship.

Their fleets would square off, both to train the crew in savage combat and to savor the rush of a real fight at sea.

“Hahaha! Whitebeard, if I hadn’t just finished slugging it out with Golden Lion, who knows how today would’ve ended…”

Roger and his crew were already exhausted; they’d planned to use the island to rest, only to bump into the resting Whitebeard Pirates as well. The moment they met, Conqueror’s Haki exploded between them—a show of mutual respect—and the two sides battled for two days and nights before finally calling a truce.

When Roger mentioned Golden Lion, Whitebeard let out a heavy sigh. “At least back then, somebody could keep him in check. Now he’s gone completely mad.”

Whitebeard seemed lost in thought, falling silent as old memories washed over him.

“Don’t worry so much, Whitebeard. No matter what Golden Lion does, the past isn’t coming back.”

Roger showed not a hint of concern. With the Golden Lion just barely holding onto his own turf, that was the best he could hope for anyway.

These days, things were nothing like the old days. Now, the shadow over the New World was Lux D. Karl, and with Karl out there, Golden Lion would never rule unopposed.

In the old script, Golden Lion dominated because Whitebeard was too busy recruiting ‘sons’ and had no ambition for conquest, letting vast swaths of territory slide without a care.

Meanwhile, Charlotte Linlin was always at home having kids, caring little for managing her lands. That left most of the New World under Golden Lion’s thumb, and his power just kept swelling.

With Karl bursting onto the scene, Golden Lion’s reach was suddenly checked.

Whitebeard thought it over and had to agree—these days, Golden Lion couldn’t stir up much trouble. “Drink up, drink up!”

Both crews drank themselves silly, everyone raising a toast. The atmosphere was as rowdy and lively as ever.

Watching from his hidden perch, Garp realized there’d be no catching Roger today. He had no choice but to quietly withdraw.

Once Garp left, Roger shot a glance his way. “Persistent as ever.”

Back aboard his battleship, Garp gave the order to abandon pursuit.

The Navy anchored thirty nautical miles away on another islet, posting lookouts to monitor the Roger Pirates’ every move. As soon as Roger and Whitebeard parted ways, Garp intended to strike—he was sure those two wouldn’t travel together for long.