Des Viator, the most powerful swordsman ever recognized on the Grand Line.
The shadow that has lingered for ten years, where is the ghost-faced god of death? "Wherever the sword points, that is where I point."
The swordsman who is searching alone has eyes as sharp as an eagle.
Lorenza, the spring island that cannot be reached by the pointer, has green bricks and black tiles, and a drunken woman in white in the peach blossom forest.
"He's not here and I don't know when he will come back."
The deep throat of the lyre, the bitter cold of peach blossoms. Her bare hands were like ice, and she briefly talked about a past incident.
He and the black sword were waiting for his return. Under the moonlit night, the long sword was unsheathed, and his eyes seemed to be cold.
The falling blade ended more than just that...
The sound of the piano has dispersed, and the peach blossoms have been defeated. The sword he sealed can no longer tell the story of its past.
"If the strongest is like this, I would rather never come."
Intent: Used simply for making sugar. I love Uncle Eagle!