Far from the Holy Land, across turbulent seas and shattered archipelagos, a storm churned through the New World. Not a storm of nature, but one of fate. The balance of power already delicate in the aftermath of the Paramount War was shifting.
And Red-Haired Shanks could feel it.
He stood at the prow of his flagship, the Red Force, staring into the horizon. The sea wind whipped through his red cloak. His face calm but alert was turned east, toward Mary Geoise.
Benn Beckman approached from behind, lighting a cigar with flint and steel.
"Something on your mind, Captain?"
Shanks didn't answer at first.
Then, he said: "He's awake."
Beckman exhaled slowly. "Shamrock?"
A nod. "The Holy Land just went quiet. Too quiet. I felt it... like a ripple through the sea."
"He was supposed to be a puppet. Just another leech with a bloodline."
Shanks' eyes narrowed. "He was never just that."
Back in Mary Geoise, the Chamber of Mirrors, a clandestine meeting room of reflective obsidian, glowed with blue torches. Reflected a hundredfold on every surface was Shamrock's image as he stood before a grand map of the world.
Nine figures surrounded him, his fellow God's Knights. Not mere subordinates now, but lieutenants bound to his rule through awe and terror.
He tapped the New World with his gauntleted finger.
"The Yonkou maintain a fragile balance. Big Mom's territory fractured. Kaido is gone. Teach is unpredictable. Shanks..."
He paused.
"Shanks holds the illusion of peace."
The knights listened.
"It's time we test that illusion."
He gestured, and a holographic fleet rose from the map—ships marked by the God's Knights' sigil.
"Dispatch three battalions. Skirmish near Elbaf. Draw him out. Make it look like pirates. If he interferes, we learn his movement patterns. If he retaliates... we devour."
One knight, Ser Kael, stepped forward. "What of the World Government's knowledge of this operation?"
Shamrock smiled. "They no longer need to know everything."
Murmurs rippled among the knights. Shamrock raised a hand.
"We are gods, not messengers. The elders have grown fat and blind. I will break them when the time comes. But for now, we move in shadow."
That night, the inner sanctum of the Holy Land trembled again.
Shamrock stood alone at the Gate of Ancients, a sealed chamber that hadn't been opened in over a century. The walls were lined with ancient weapons—blades that had tasted void century blood, spears once wielded by kings.
Cerberus thrummed in his hand.
[System Notification: Hidden Zone Discovered] [Legacy of the Original Devourer: Locked Content Nearby]
He placed Cerberus against the altar.
The blade shone, then howled.
The chamber cracked open.
Inside was a sarcophagus covered in celestial dragon script.
He read it aloud:
"Here lies Arkadian, the First Devourer. One of the first twenty"
His eyes widened.
[Devour Synchronization Initiated.] [Warning: Host body may not survive.]
"Then I'll rewrite survival."
He drove Cerberus into the sarcophagus.
Black and red energy flooded the room.
His body trembled—bones shattering, blood boiling. Visions swirled: wars fought in darkness, gods eating gods, worlds consumed.
Then stillness.
[Synchronization Complete. Cerberus Evolution: 45%] [New Skill Unlocked: Blood Dominion - Passive aura causes weaker beings to submit or flee.]
Shamrock stood in silence, cloak fluttering.
A god reborn in blood.