Chapter 18: The Storm
The Grand Line did not greet us with a handshake; it greeted us with a slap.
We had been sailing for six hours since crossing the Calm Belt.
In that time, the weather had changed four times. .
First, a humid fog so thick I couldn't see my own hand. Then, a sudden, stinging hail that dented the steel-reinforced railings of the Purgatory. Then, a heatwave that boiled the rain on the deck.
And now, snow.
Huge, heavy flakes of snow were falling from a sky that was a bruised purple color. The wind howled, spinning the ship in circles despite Elara's best efforts.
"Port! Hard to port!" Elara screamed, her hair plastered to her face. She was wrestling the wheel, her eyes glued to the Log Pose.
"The magnetic field is shifting! It's trying to drag us into a cyclone!"
Riyon and Vasco were on the main deck, securing the supplies.
"Why is it snowing?!" Vasco yelled, slipping on a patch of ice while trying to tie down a crate of onions. "It was ninety degrees five minutes ago! My yeast is going to die!"
"Forget your yeast, Cook! Watch the boom!" Riyon roared, tackling the chef as the heavy wooden boom swung wildly in the gale.
I stood at the prow. It was midday. My power was blazing, but I wasn't using it to propel the ship. Elara had insisted. "We need to learn to sail this sea, Captain. If we rely on your jet-propulsion forever, we'll be helpless the moment you run out of stamina."
She was right. So, I stood watch, my Sunshine aura acting as a localized heater, melting the snow before it could freeze the rigging.
[Daily Quest: Train Like a Hero] (Active)
[Sword Swings: 98/100]
I drew my cutlass. Even in this chaos, the System demanded discipline.
Ninety-nine.
I slashed through a falling snowflake, vaporizing it.
One hundred.
[Daily Quest Completed]
[Reward: +1 STR, +1 AGI, +20 EP]
[Chain Quest: Path of Strength – Stage 1] -> COMPLETED!
[Objective: Increase total base stats to 100.]
[Current Base Stats: 102/100]
A chime rang out, audible even over the storm. A surge of fundamental power, deeper than the Devil Fruit, washed over me. My bones felt denser. My reflexes sharper. This wasn't the borrowed power of the Sun; this was me.
[Reward Issued: Skill Slot +1, +500 EP]
[New Chain Quest Unlocked: Path of Strength – Stage 2]
[Objective: Reach 200 Total Base Stats. Reward: Trait [Iron Will].]
I clenched my fist. The gap between my day form and night form was closing. Slowly.
"Land-ho!" Riyon bellowed from the crow's nest, where he had climbed despite the icing.
I looked ahead. Through the curtain of purple snow, a shape emerged. It wasn't a normal island. It looked like a massive, hollowed-out cactus made of gray rock, rising jaggedly from the sea. The wind whistled through the holes in the rock, creating a haunting, flute-like melody.
"That's it!" Elara called out, relief flooding her voice. "The Log Pose is locking on! That's our first stop!"
"Does it have a name?" I asked, my voice booming over the wind.
Elara checked her charts, squinting against the snow. "It's not on the standard Marine maps. But the smuggler's chart calls it... 'Whispering Rock'."
"Whispering Rock," Vasco muttered, joining us on the upper deck. He shivered, pulling his chef's coat tighter. "Sounds delightful. I hope they have hot soup."
We sailed closer. The storm seemed to break against the island's magnetic field, the snow stopping abruptly a mile offshore. The sea calmed.
As we pulled into the natural harbor, I saw ships. Dozens of them. Wrecks. Some were ancient, rotting hulks. Others looked fresh, their hulls shattered on the jagged reefs that surrounded the port.
"A graveyard," Riyon noted, his hand resting on Nagasone Okisato.
"No," I said, pointing to the docks.
Past the reefs, the docks were pristine. And they were crowded. Not with wrecks, but with people. As the Purgatory glided in, a cheer went up from the town. People were waving flags. Music—festive, carnival music—wafted over the water.
"They're... welcoming us?" Elara blinked, confused. "A pirate ship with a black flag?"
"We are worth 250 million Berries," I said, my pride flaring as I straightened my coat. "Perhaps they simply recognize royalty when they see it."
Vasco sniffed the air. "I smell... roasted pork. And ale. Lots of ale."
"And I smell a trap," Riyon growled, his eyes narrowing.
"Trap or feast," I said, stepping onto the gangplank as we docked. "It makes no difference to the sun."
I walked down, my crew flanking me. The town of Whispering Rock was waiting.