Kozuki Oden carved the final stroke and sheathed his blade, fine beads of sweat dotting his forehead. He stepped back two paces, looking at that proclamation coexisting with ancient text yet brimming with fresh, domineering spirit, his chest surging with heroic passion.
"Gu ha ha ha! Well done, Oden!" Roger patted the stone base with satisfaction, as if it weren't cold stone but the shoulder of some future old friend.
The two kids Shanks and Buggy, though they couldn't fully grasp the complete meaning of these words, were also infected by this atmosphere. They puffed out their small chests, as if they too had participated in an achievement worthy of being recorded in history.
The entire City of Gold ruins seemed to grow even more profound because of this proclamation.
The air was thick with the intersection of history and future, sacred and solemn.
Kyle stood slightly outside the group, arms crossed over his chest, quietly watching it all.
A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth, both for his captain's boldness and for this journey's fantastical nature.
However, a peculiar thought sprouted in his mind like a vine, quietly taking root.
Since we're already here...
Such a magnificent era, such a legendary place. Roger had left a king's declaration, Oden had left a witness's mark.
And himself? Was he just going to stand here watching?
Once this thought appeared, it wouldn't go away.
He wasn't the type to settle for being background scenery. Of course, he had no interest in stealing Roger's thunder. Carving "me too" next to it would be too stupid.
He needed a more... unique approach.
His gaze wandered over the massive pedestal, finally locking onto a spot at the side rear of the base, concealed in the shadow of a collapsed stone pillar.
It was very inconspicuous, covered in weathering marks. Even if someone walked around back, they might not notice it.
Perfect.
Kyle strolled over casually, moving into that shadowy area. He turned his back to everyone, pretending to study the texture of the gold blocks, while his right index finger quietly lifted.
A thread of invisible waves gathered at his fingertip. The air twisted slightly. That ancient golden surface began silently heating up.
He would use a miniaturized version of "Heat Wave Searing Breath," using infrared as a carving knife to leave his mark.
What should he write?
A thought flashed through his mind. He'd be cryptic about it.
His fingertip moved, and an extremely fine line of text began to appear: "Listen to the tide, watch the light and shadow, all things speak..."
The words were foggy and vague, pretentiously profound. If someone saw them centuries later, they'd probably curse "riddle-makers, get lost."
He shook his head. With a slight increase in heat from his fingertip, those characters were smoothed away by high temperature, restored to their original state.
No good, too affected.
Then... a poem? Show off some cultural refinement? He gathered his emotions and started again: "The golden bell falls silent, blue sea waves sing, awaiting the new king..."
Before he finished carving "king," he stopped again.
It felt sickeningly sentimental, nothing like a man of the seas. More like some poet mourning spring and autumn.
Besides, he knew perfectly well how much literary talent he had in his belly.
Erased again.
How about learning from Oden's homeland, composing a haiku?
Concise, atmospheric. He frowned, thinking hard, turning phrases over in his mind.
"Deep in Skypiea clouds, the City of Gold dreams, a drifter leaves his name."
He muttered it twice. Even Kyle thought it sounded awkward.
He scratched his hair irritably, feeling like his brain cells were about to burn out.
Forget it, this is exhausting!
Kyle suddenly felt relieved. He realized he was overthinking this. Why make it so complicated?
His fingertip lit up with faint red light again. This time, he didn't hesitate at all. His movements flowed like water, completed in one breath.
Four square, simple, unadorned characters were clearly branded into the corner of the golden bell's base.
「I Was Here」 (t/n: or 'Kilroy was here')
Mission accomplished.
Kyle dusted off his hands (though there was no dust) and looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction.
These four characters were simple and clear, genuine and unpretentious, perfectly expressing the author's homesick feelings...
Who cares about the future or history? I was here. That's enough.
Humming a tune, he emerged from the shadows and rejoined the group with a natural expression.
"Hey, Kyle, what are you spacing out about?" Rayleigh noticed him and asked casually.
"Nothing," Kyle shrugged, a mysterious smile on his face. "Just thinking that if this bell rang, the sound could probably carry across all of Skypiea."