Everyone sensed Creed's sudden tension and looked where he was staring—but the high heavens were only cotton clouds, sun-dyed gold like fire. Nothing seemed amiss.
The next heartbeat, Redfield's face changed. "Impossible…"
Falkor and the Giant Bat dropped to the deck, bristling as if a great enemy were about to descend.
Then they felt it.
From far above, an overwhelming presence swept past—vaster and more ancient than the Haoshoku Haki (Conqueror's Haki) that Whitebeard and Creed had traded in their earlier probe. It felt primeval, austere, noble—and tyrannical.
A king's aura.
Except for Creed and Redfield, everyone's knees went weak; the urge to kneel surged unbidden. Shirahoshi clasped her face, nearly in tears. She could feel a threat to her very core—as if this pressure targeted the source of her being. And yet, somewhere deep inside, a different power stirred: fear mixed with courage, and even a spark of battle spirit.
"ROOM!"
Creed expanded a sphere from his Ope Ope no Mi (Op-Op Fruit), enveloping the entire ship. The oppressive will hit the boundary and broke like waves against rock, unable to invade further.
But one crewmate reacted violently.
"Fyiing—!"
Lightning rippled over Falkor's body. The little dragon bared fangs, eyes glinting with a faint red sheen. In an instant it swelled in size—nearly as large as Shirahoshi—an untamed, bestial pressure boiling off its scales.
Others couldn't place the nuance, but Creed and Redfield, with sharp Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation Haki), exchanged a look. The aura spilling from Falkor… was eerily similar to the one crushing from the heavens.
"Fyiii!"
Falkor flared its wings, thunder booming—ready to launch.
Creed raised a hand and pressed lightly into the air. An unseen force pinned Falkor to the deck. It strained and roared at him to release it—to let it charge skyward and clash with whatever terror waited above.
"…!"
Redfield's brows lifted. The power Falkor exploded with just then was tremendous; even he might not have been able to subdue it with full effort. Yet Creed had stilled it with a single, smoke-free gesture—absolute, unshakable.
Stronger… than Whitebeard?
Shock flashed through Redfield—followed by a small, bitter smile. He had awakened his Bat-Bat Fruit to a new plateau and thought he'd finally neared the captain's heels. Seeing this, he realized the gap was still there.
"I'll have to train even harder," he muttered.
Pinned and calm again, Falkor watched as the colossal aura slid away across the heavens—ten-odd leagues in a blink, moving at terrific speed.
"What in the world… This sea still holds things I don't know," Creed said softly. The clouds were thick and the altitude immense; he couldn't make out the creature's shape. But with that distant pressure alone he could judge its might: at least Yonko-class.
Perhaps… even greater.
His gaze slid to Shirahoshi. Robin and Ain were already murmuring comfort to the trembling princess.
"Uu… uu…"
A plaintive chirp tugged his sleeve—Falkor, aggrieved. Creed released the invisible bind. The dragon snapped back to its usual small size and dove into his arms, chuffing its complaint.
"Natural enemy…?"
Creed blinked. "You were sealed in stone until you hatched beside me. How do you already have a natural enemy?"
"Could it be… another dragon?" He rubbed Falkor's head, then slipped it a piece of vanilla cake. The dragon quieted at once, then begged for seconds and split the extra with the watching Giant Bat. The two tiny gluttons munched side by side—brothers in feast and fight alike.
"Captain… do you know what that was?" Redfield asked, mind still shaking from the brush.
"Possibly a dragon," Creed answered.
"No wonder Falkor went wild," Redfield murmured, glancing at the little thunder-lizard.
Robin and the others clicked their tongues in wonder.
"All right. It's gone—back to dinner," Creed clapped once, letting the warmth return to the deck.
…
Holy Land, Mariejois—the Five Elders' private council chamber in the World Government's new building.
Besides the five, several "guests" were present: Supreme Commander Kong, and two CP0 agents kneeling, shaking.
"Ancient Weapon Poseidon has fallen into Creed's hands?" the First Elder stroked his fluffy beard, worry pinching his eyes.
"The three Ancient Weapons bear godly titles. Any one of them could destroy the world," the Second Elder said coldly. "And now, this brat has one. Troublesome."
"If only we'd finished him last time," the Third Elder sipped tea. "He's grown into his storm. Hard to handle now."
"What do you propose, Kong?" the Fourth Elder asked. The towering veteran set down his cup.
"The Navy completes its relocation this month. I'm here to request an immediate convocation of the Shichibukai," Kong said.
The Fifth Elder arched a brow. "You have that authority even as Fleet Admiral—much less as Supreme Commander. No need to be so formal."
"In addition…" Kong's voice lowered. "I want authorization to deploy Blood Shadow."
Silence crashed through the chamber.
The Five Elders looked at one another—and the room grew colder.
(End of Chapter)
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