"Sir, we need to board—fast! My ship's still docked west of the port—"
Ra Tenji's nod let Kanesu breathe again.
Then his face went pale. The port was gone.
"Oh no… the Golden Dream… and the crew!"
That wasn't just a ship—it was everything. His dream, his savings, his people.
If they'd been caught in that blast—
Tenji cast him a glance, then closed his eyes and focused. He reached out with ki sense.
"They're fine. Your ship and your men—unharmed."
Before Kanesu could react, the old man's hunched frame rose slowly into the air, defying gravity as if it didn't apply.
Half a meter. One meter.
He floated weightlessly like a feather, white hair flowing, robes fluttering in the night wind.
"He's… flying?!"
Kanesu nearly popped his eyeballs. His jaw dropped, his hand trembled as he pointed upward.
Wiping out a harbor was already beyond logic. Now this? The old man could fly?
That wasn't human—that was a monster.
Tenji looked down at the stunned boy, lips curling into the faintly wicked smirk of Piccolo Daimaō.
"Keep up."
He raised a withered hand—and Kanesu shot skyward.
"WAAAH—!"
An invisible force yanked him clean off the ground. Wind howled in his ears as he soared, the land shrinking beneath his flailing legs. Below, the crater still guzzled seawater like a monstrous drain.
Heart thundering, Kanesu shut his eyes. Never in his life had he imagined flying—let alone being dragged into the sky like a sack of potatoes.
Tenji, spectral and silent, glided through the darkness. Though his stamina was limited, flight and speed came effortlessly.
Following the energy trail he'd sensed earlier, he quickly locked onto the ship's location.
The Golden Dream had docked slightly west of the port in a hidden cove. Though the shockwave had rocked it violently, the hull held firm, and no one was hurt.
SHOOOM
They landed with a thud on the deck.
The remaining crewmates had been paralyzed by the explosion and the tremors. Flames and smoke still towered in the distance. When their captain and a floating stranger descended from the sky, panic spiked.
"C-captain?! Who—what—"
One brave crewman managed to stammer, eyes darting between Kanesu and the old man.
Kanesu staggered as his boots touched down. Legs shaky, face pale—but the sight of his intact ship and living crew let him breathe again.
He steeled himself, forced back the daze, and barked, "No time! Everyone move! Raise anchor, set sail—we leave immediately!"
The pirates, confused but cowed by his urgency, rushed to obey. They didn't need an explanation. The night had already shown them enough to understand: trouble was close.
Tenji stood at the rail, arms behind his back, gazing toward the ruined harbor.
He could hear it—bells ringing, voices yelling, heavy boots in a disorganized scramble.
The kingdom's troops had arrived.
…
The wind blew ash and salt through the flattened port.
Sulfur stung the air. The ground still radiated heat.
Seawater poured into the crater, RUMBLING like a beast devouring the earth, slowly swallowing debris and warped ruins.
Where once stood solid docks, only a glassy concave basin remained, reflecting torchlight like a warped mirror.
From the edge of the ruin, soldiers poured in, their armor clanking, torches flickering, formation broken by panic.
They were the kingdom's official forces—Lubus's military, the only legal troops on Pudreina Island.
Most were locals, used to dull patrols or pirate mop-ups. None had seen a scene like this.
"Get your damn heads on straight!"
The officer in charge—a grizzled lieutenant with a shadowy face—shouted, trying to drown his own fear with sheer volume.
But his voice was tiny next to the watery roar echoing from the pit.
The troops stared at the void, faces pale, weapons trembling. Some backed away instinctively, as if the crater might rise and consume them too.
"L-Lieutenant… what is this?"
A young soldier's voice cracked. His torch wobbled in his grip. "Earthquake? Tsunami? Or… a bomb?"
"Idiot!"
The officer snapped—but had no answer himself.
Could an earthquake carve out a crater this smooth?Could a tsunami melt stone and leave scorched air behind?A bomb? Sure, the explosion had lit the sky and rocked the land… but what kind of bomb made this?
Their original task had been simple: patrol the docks under Navy orders, aid in capturing a high-value fugitive—Gol D. Ra Tenji, father of the Pirate King, Gol D. Roger.
A frail old man, they'd been told. Near death. Yet somehow worth a 100 million bounty.
"What the hell…"
The lieutenant stared at the pit. "Was he the monster? Or did the bounty lure a worse one here?"
There was no logic. No answers.
Just a nightmare that shattered his worldview.
"Stop staring! Spread out! Secure the area! Check for survivors—or anything unusual!"
He inhaled the scorched air, forced himself to focus, and gave the only order that made sense.
The soldiers hesitated, fear written on their faces—but their training kicked in.
They crept toward the crater, torches outstretched. Only black water and thick steam stared back—along with a soundless, endless rumble from below.
Feilu novels—always a thrilling read!
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