The echo of footsteps carried through the coral halls of Ryugu Palace as Victor and Robin followed their escorts deeper into the heart of Fishman Island. Between walls of translucent blue stone, grand murals painted the legends of sea kings, ancient gods, and the tragedies of the surface. But none of it matched the weight Robin carried in her satchel: a partial translation of a guiding Poneglyph that spoke of Poseidon and the ancient deluge that once submerged the world.
The Fishman escorts—still wary but no longer hostile—said little. Their leader, the manta-ray Fishman named Dren, kept glancing over his shoulder at Victor. Not in fear. In calculation.
Victor noticed, of course.
"Something on your mind, Dren?" he asked evenly as they approached a set of ornate coral doors.
Dren didn't respond at first. Then: "You fight like the surface lords. But your aura… it lacks their cruelty."
Victor gave no reply. He didn't need to. Behind him, Robin's steady footsteps anchored him.
The guards pushed open the doors.
The royal chamber bathed in golden-blue light welcomed them. King Neptune sat at the head of a sweeping throne made of carved pearl and coral. His trident leaned against one side, and his long, flowing beard shimmered like sea foam.
Beside him stood three figures—Shirahoshi, still a child but tall and graceful, her curious gaze fixed on Robin; Prince Fukaboshi, calm and poised; and a silent third—a tall merman in dark armor whose face was hidden behind a helmet shaped like a shark's skull.
"Welcome to Ryugu Palace," Neptune said, his voice deep but not unkind. "You come bearing knowledge long buried."
Robin stepped forward and bowed. "Your Majesty. I am Nico Robin, survivor of Ohara. This is Victor Creed. We seek not war or disruption—but truth."
Neptune's gaze narrowed. "Truth is a dangerous currency."
Robin nodded. "And yet, the World Government seeks to spend it freely—by erasing it."
At that, Shirahoshi gasped softly, while Fukaboshi's expression tightened.
Victor stepped beside Robin. "We found a sanctuary beneath your island. A guiding Poneglyph. The government knows it exists. And they'll come to take it—or destroy it."
Neptune's eyes widened.
"You found the Sanctuary of Scales?"
Robin nodded. "Yes. It mentions Poseidon's Call. A meeting of sovereigns. A deluge that reshaped the world. The texts align with the Void Century."
The silent armored merman stepped forward finally. "You speak of forbidden history. Why should we trust you?"
Robin opened her satchel and pulled free the scrolls they had copied. She handed them to Neptune, who unfurled them with care. As he read, his expression darkened.
"These markings... I have seen them before," Neptune muttered. "In the sealed vault beneath the palace. It was my father's wish that we never open it."
Victor crossed his arms. "That vault might hold the last untouched truth. And if we don't act now, you may never get the chance again."
Neptune looked up. "You ask for a great deal of trust."
"I do," Robin said. "Because trust is all we have."
Neptune studied her, then Victor. At last, he nodded to the armored merman. "Escort them to the vault. Let the tides judge if their intentions are pure."
The Vault Below
The path to the vault was long, winding deep into the bedrock of the island. The armored merman—now introduced as Commander Ryjin—led them past pressure-sealed doors and coral locks that hadn't been opened in decades.
Finally, they reached a gate marked with ancient carvings of sea serpents encircling a spiral sun. Ryjin pressed a sigil into the wall, and slowly, the vault door creaked open.
Inside lay silence.
Scrolls, tablets, coral-bound books—all perfectly preserved. And at the center, a sphere of crystal water, floating mid-air.
Robin stepped forward in awe. "This… this is knowledge untouched by flame."
Victor followed, quiet, watching the sphere.
As Robin approached it, the sphere pulsed.
Then it spoke.
A voice, ancient and calm, echoed through the vault. "To those who awaken the call, heed this. The tide of history flows not from kings, but from the silence between them. When the Song of the Sea returns, Poseidon's heir shall rise. And with her, the flood."
Robin's heart raced.
Victor frowned. "That voice. Was that… a recording?"
Ryjin looked stunned. "It's a Sea Memory. A relic of our ancestors. Only the royal line is supposed to hear it."
Robin turned to him, her eyes wide. "Poseidon's heir... It spoke of a return. This must mean Shirahoshi."
Ryjin shook his head. "She is too young. And unawakened."
Victor's voice was quiet but firm. "Then this war hasn't started. But it's coming."
Robin turned to the scrolls. "We need to document this. Every line."
Ryjin hesitated. "If the Government finds out we've shown you this—"
"They already know," Victor said grimly. "They've tracked us across the Blues, sent agents to kill her, and burned every whisper of the Void Century. Your only chance to preserve this is to let it be seen."
Ryjin looked between them. At last, he gave a curt nod.
Above the Waves
While Robin and Ryjin worked through the night, copying and preserving the scrolls, Victor stood outside the vault, staring at the dome above.
The pressure in the sea was shifting.
The World Government wasn't going to wait long.
His transponder snail buzzed.
He picked it up.
The voice on the other end was low and gruff. "Still hiding in the deep, Phantom Hunter?"
Victor's eyes narrowed. "Vice Admiral Drake."
"I suggest you turn over the girl and the documents. We're being generous—this time."
Victor stared into the sea above, watching a shadow pass across the dome—a marine command ship, just outside the detection range of Fishman Island.
"You always did mistake patience for mercy," Victor replied, then crushed the snail under his heel.
Inside, Robin approached. "They've arrived."
"I know."
She handed him a parchment. "This... confirms it. Poseidon's Call was a meeting place—a unification between the three Ancient Weapons. But only if they were willing."
Victor's face darkened. "And if they weren't?"
Robin looked down. "Then the world would drown again."
End of Chapter Nineteen
In the deepest parts of the world, the truth had stirred. The voice of the past whispered through the tides, and those who sought to silence it drew near.
But the Phantom Hunter and the Demon Child stood their ground.
And the seas would never be silent again.