075 Divinity: Void—Wings That Burn the Heavens

The Grand Line has always been an incomprehensible, bizarre place—its mysteries unfathomable, its skies unpredictable. No one could ever know whether the next moment would bring clear blue heavens or a tempest of wind and rain. Snow in spring, hail in summer—such oddities are commonplace here. Compared to these, the larger disasters are far more terrifying.

The first half of the journey is relatively safe; as long as the navigator is competent, or the crew strong enough, one can usually weather the dangers. But the second half is hell. Yet it bears a beautiful name: the New World.

Power, wealth, strength—everything this world has to offer, it is said, lies at the end of the sea. To obtain that secret treasure, one must face endless rivals and the most dreadful calamities.

Even though countless lives are lost here every day, there are always some reckless souls—ambitious and blind—who gamble madly, adding yet another ghost and pile of bones to the ocean.

Such is human nature: the wicked greed.

Thunderclouds pressed down in suffocating waves, stirring the entire sea into tumult, the waves rising and falling, terrifying beyond measure.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared. Beneath the pitch-black clouds, a small vessel tossed like a feather on the boiling sea, poised to sink at any moment, causing even the bravest to break into a cold sweat.

On the deck, Xuan Ye stood with hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the ever-changing weather. He turned, his expression calm, and looked at the monkey.

Shrinking his neck, Little Gold felt exposed under Xuan Ye’s gaze, as if naked, tightening instinctively, even his tail drooping in dejection.

“It’s not my fault,” the monkey squeaked, peering around with large golden eyes darting nervously, clearly trying to shirk responsibility.

“Very well, none of this is your fault,” Xuan Ye nodded, still expressionless as he stared at the monkey, making the latter’s heart tremble.

“Right, right,” the monkey nodded cautiously, his tail swinging back and forth.

“Then tell me—why is it that I went to cook a meal, and when I came back, this was the situation? If I recall, half an hour ago there was sunlight, wasn’t there?”

“I can’t control the weather—why blame everything on me?” The monkey was full of reluctance.

“Before I went to cook, didn’t I tell you to be careful, that the Grand Line’s weather changes constantly? Yet now, why has our course veered ninety degrees?”

With a faint voice, Xuan Ye glanced at the compass in his hand, narrowing his eyes.

“I don’t know,” the monkey protested, his face as red as his rear.

“You were slacking off.” Xuan Ye’s voice was calm, yet compared to the current storm, it struck more fear into the monkey.

“I just drank a little, then accidentally fell asleep,” the monkey muttered, head bowed.

“It wasn’t just a little. He drank three barrels—I saw it myself.” A voice interjected gleefully; Valdo clung tightly to the boat, pointing at the monkey and kicking him while he was down.

Watching the monkey being scolded gave Valdo inexplicable pleasure, like an addictive poison he couldn’t resist.

“Don’t listen to his nonsense,” the monkey looked up, pleading cutely at Xuan Ye, then glared bloodshot eyes at Valdo.

Valdo shivered, his face stiffening as he remembered he was a captive, and the monkey was second in command—even if there were only three aboard.

Watching the furtive glances exchanged between the man and the monkey, Xuan Ye shook his head and walked to the bow, preparing to face the approaching meteor storm.

“It seems we’re too few. With Little Gold’s playful, lazy nature, he’s not fit to steer the ship.”

He looked up. In the sky shrouded by clouds, house-sized chunks of ice began to fall, their descent whistling through the air and sending the sea into upheaval.

“Infinite Arrows.”

A wave of his hand, countless flames shot skyward. In a blink, the clouds were pierced, letting gentle sunlight spill down.

The clouds vanished, and clear skies returned.

But before the three could breathe easy, a pitch-black storm rolled in from the horizon, joined with the sea in a surging tide. The aura of destruction made Xuan Ye’s face change dramatically.

Unbeknownst to them, the sea had become a vortex, a deep abyss radiating a tremendous pull.

Visible to the naked eye, the boat was speeding toward the whirlpool.

“Hurry, hurry, get out or we’ll die!” Valdo screamed, his face twisted with fear; the storm was so powerful, a tsunami no man could resist.

“What do we do, what do we do?” The monkey spun in circles, desperate, terrified by the disaster.

“Look what you’ve done,” Xuan Ye’s face was grave. Entering such a storm meant certain death.

A massive suction, like a giant whale feeding, sent the sea into chaos for tens of thousands of meters around, a disaster that could easily destroy an island, let alone people.

“Hold the course, keep your wits about you or we’ll die,” Xuan Ye stripped off his shirt, tied up his long hair, and went to the stern. With a powerful kick, he blasted the sea, turning the boat’s direction.

“Full beast form. Second stage. Divine transformation.”

“Nether. Flame Blossom.”

Golden hands joined, opening and closing, a flicker of flame in the center, then exploding outward—a circular beam shooting straight to the seabed.

The sea erupted, the whole world swaying. Xuan Ye braced his feet firmly on the ship, using the force of the beam to inch slowly away from danger.

“It’s bad—the storm’s getting closer,” the monkey cried at the bow, watching the impending doom.

“Shut up and steer!” Xuan Ye shouted, his face dark. Flames swirled around him, the fiery beam in his hands expanding rapidly. The searing heat evaporated the sea, creating a vacuum.

He glanced back at the approaching storm, his mind raging: Was he to die here, not in battle?

“I never thought my newly developed technique would be needed in a place like this… truly…”

With a strange sigh, Xuan Ye’s face turned icy.

“Divine transformation. Sky. Burning Feathered Wings.”

He lifted his head and let out a cry, pain flashing across his golden-white face.

The golden crow sigil on his forehead spread rapidly, covering his entire body in moments and emitting wisps of white mist.

With a tearing sound, Xuan Ye bent slightly, and blazing flames burst from his back—a pair of nearly kilometer-long, fierce wings, swirling with fire, rose to cover the sky.

From afar, he appeared as a colossal being with human form and wings, standing amid flames. The aura he radiated was so intense that the sea evaporated, clouds of steam erupting, rendering the world fairy-like.

Covered in a dense web of small golden crow sigils, Xuan Ye looked utterly wicked, his eyes two blazing suns hanging in the sky.

“Attack.”

His supreme command brooked no argument. The giant wings, nearly two kilometers wide, swept forcefully.

With a roar, the flames spun, a golden-white storm connecting sky and sea, unleashing violent power, destroying all before it.

Like an arrow loosed from a bow, Xuan Ye propelled the boat through the gale.

Mountains trembled, the sea surged, a colossal wave rolled forth.

An hour later, on the now calm sea, Xuan Ye was drenched in sweat, his face flushed, gasping for breath.

This attack had drained him deeply, leaving him weak.

Fortunately, they had survived.

Had it not been for the ship, Xuan Ye would have taken the monkey and flown away—his full beast form could soar through the skies.

As for Valdo, who cared if he lived or died.

Most importantly, this move was developed by Xuan Ye, inspired by the speed of the golden crow’s rainbow flight. Clearly, it had significant flaws, but its destructive power was comparable to Armed Divine Sun.

Xuan Ye believed that as long as he persevered, there would come a day when a single thought would carry him across any distance.

........................................