Like muffled thunder rolling across the sky, the air for dozens of meters around quaked violently. A sweeping shockwave blasted across the deck of the warship, tossing everything into the air—blades, corpses, barrels, even the masts and the ship's superstructure. The sea churned as the force rippled outward, and even the Chris—anchored nearby—was shoved a good distance away by the sheer force of the collision.
The entire No. 1 warship was shaking violently, groaning beneath the strain with shrill creaks and snapping cracks as its framework gave way.
From the outside, the hull was spiderwebbed with fractures. Inside, it was worse: not only were the walls riddled with splits, but support beams had shattered outright.
The ship was wrecked—beyond saving. Not even the finest shipwrights of Water 7 could have fixed it. Anyone opening it up would've seen that even the keel had been splintered in multiple places.
"Oh man, that scared the crap outta me!" one crewman, the last to scramble aboard the Chris, was still patting his chest as his heart thundered. He was pale, trembling. The Chris, having been so close to the No. 1 warship, had been caught in the shockwave too. Now the massive pirate ship swayed heavily on the roiling sea, nearly tossing the man overboard.
After all, in the face of the boundless ocean, a ship a mere hundred meters long was little more than a toy—one rogue wave could capsize it.
"Fuck—don't tell me we're gonna flip?!" a bare-chested pirate, all bulging muscles, sprawled flat on the deck. He gripped his hair, riding out the rocking of the ship with white-knuckled terror.
"The Captain's a damn monster..."
It wasn't the first time Gorbo had seen Chris T. Aeridar unleash his power—but every time, it left his jaw hanging. And the thing was, each time the Captain let loose, it was more overwhelming than the last. Gorbo had no idea where his limit even was.
"Did the Captain crawl outta some monster den on Kukos Island or something?!" Dimitri's eyeballs looked ready to pop out of his skull. Among the Chris Pirates' core five, he was the weakest—and scenes , like a living natural disaster, were enough to scare the soul out of him.
Look at this: the skies were clear, not even a breeze, and yet the sea here was boiling with fury. Oddly, only this section of ocean was affected—farther out, the waters remained perfectly calm.
"Whoa, this is... seriously freaky," muttered Gilbert Arlan, scratching the back of his head, clearly feeling the pressure in the air.
"This guy... If I hadn't dodged fast enough, he might've taken us all out with him." Beneath the mainmast, Oliver sat scowling, polishing his blade with some annoyance.
A clean snap rang through the air—
Right before their eyes, the entire Navy third-rate warship collapsed in on itself. Splinters and wood chips exploded skyward as busted planks and shattered beams rained down into the stormy sea.
"Shit!!" Arlan suddenly bolted for the rail, eyes wide with panic as he stared toward the wreckage. "Captain can't swim!"
"No way—doesn't he know Geppo?!" Oliver tossed his sword aside and sprang to his feet.
"Damn it, the smoke's too thick—I can't see anything!" Dimitri was squinting through a spyglass, scanning frantically.
"He didn't go and kill himself in the process, right?!" Gorbo was drenched in nervous sweat.
The warship had already been mostly swallowed by the sea. Thick smoke still curled above the wreckage, but it was thinning quickly.
"I see him!" Dimitri yelled, waving excitedly, still peering through the scope. "Captain's alive!"
"We can see him too, genius!" Oliver snapped, not even bothering to hide his exasperation. At this distance, it was hard not to see him.
Sure enough, high above the wreckage, a dust-covered figure was sprinting through midair—his feet tapping the sky with Geppo, heading straight for the Chris.
"Damn, he looks like a wreck," Arlan squinted, studying Aeridar's silhouette. "Not hurt though... Just covered in soot and splinters. What a mess."
Just as Arlan finished speaking, Aeridar landed hard on the deck. He shook out his limbs, then spat a mouthful of seawater and woodchips, grimacing.
"Ptuh! Ptuh! Fuckin' hell... That bastard hit me with one last trick before he died."
"Pfft—HAHAHAHA!! You look like a total disaster, Captain!" Oliver, now lounging under the mast again, slapped his thigh and cackled.
"Tch. Shut it," Aeridar growled, face darkening. He turned, cupped his hands, and bellowed toward the upper deck:
"Millie, Mina—get the bath ready! I need a soak!"
"Aye aye, Captain~!" Two beautiful twin sisters leaned out from a second-floor cabin window, smiling brightly.
With a scowl, Aeridar stormed off toward his quarters.
The whole deck exploded into laughter.
The Chris Pirates were a laid-back crew. They didn't obsess over strict ranks or formality, and roasting the Captain—or each other—was practically a daily event. It kept things light.
"Still an awful attitude, Oliver..." Arlan chuckled, peeling off his ripped blue jacket and handing it to a nearby crewman.
"Pfft—like you can talk. You got your ass beat way worse than I did," Oliver shot back with his usual venomous sarcasm.
"You little shit! Come here and say that again!!"
Arlan's temper flared and he lunged at Oliver.
"C'mon, First Mate, knock his teeth out!"
"Anyone betting on this?"
"Ten berries on Oliver!"
"Twenty says Arlan flattens him!"
Gorbo and Dimitri didn't even try to stop the fight—in fact, they egged it on, along with the other crewmates, cheering and placing bets.
Meanwhile, the wrecked Navy warship had sunk beneath the waves, leaving behind nothing but a massive whirlpool and a scattering of bodies, planks, and debris floating on the surface.
"Tch... these idiots..."
Back in his captain's quarters, Aeridar was reclining in a massive wooden tub nearly a meter wide. The twin sisters were cheerfully scrubbing him down as he soaked. Despite his scoffing tone at the chaos outside, the slight curve of his lips betrayed his amusement.
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