Hello Drinor here, If you'd like to become a patron and get access to these chapters earlier, just head on over to Patreon and search 'Drinor'
Write 'www.Patreon.com/Drinor' in the Comments
The Following 7 Chapters are already available for Patrons.
Chapter 53 (No Joy), Chapter 54 (A Princess or A Pirate?), Chapter 55 (The Land of God), Chapter 56 (Enemies of The God), Chapter 57 (Luffy, The Enemy of God), Chapter 58 (The Wings of Ra), and Chapter 59 (Straw Hats Vs God's Army) are already available for Patrons.
As Thatch lay comfortably in his bed, enveloped by the warmth of his covers, he found solace in the symphony of the thunderstorm that raged relentlessly outside his window, a tempestuous dance orchestrated by the mighty Moby Dick. Each rumble of thunder echoed through the room, reverberating in his chest, while the rhythmic rocking of the ship mimicked the ebb and flow of the colossal waves that crashed against its hull.
Imagining the vast expanse of the treacherous sea beyond, Thatch couldn't help but be grateful for his position as a commander, exempted from the daunting responsibility of taking a lookout shift. His heart brimmed with sympathy for the unfortunate souls who, despite the fierce weather, were obligated to venture out into the unforgiving elements. As the wind howled and rain battered against the windows, Thatch couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the safety and comfort his rank afforded him, shielding him from the tumultuous wrath of nature's fury.
As he leisurely shifted onto his side, his gaze fell upon the chest that rested enchantingly upon his meticulously arranged desk. Though uncertainty lingered within him regarding the nature of the devil fruit concealed within, his curiosity had led him to consult a select few individuals from the esteemed ninth division.
These learned brothers, well-versed in the exhaustive study of the diverse fruits, had opined with a degree of certainty that this particular one harbored the formidable power of darkness. Yet, an overwhelming conviction gnawed at his core, dissuading him from entertaining any notion of consuming it.
The name itself, "The Dark-Dark fruit," whispered forebodingly through the recesses of his mind, resonating with an air of impending doom.
According to knowledgeable researchers, an intriguing notion surfaced regarding a specific fruit's extraordinary properties. They postulated that consuming said fruit would grant one the remarkable ability to absorb objects. Furthermore, whispers began to circulate, speculating that the enigmatic Dark-Dark fruit possessed the unprecedented power to not only absorb but also nullify the abilities of other devil fruits. Contemplating this possibility, a sense of apprehension crept into their thoughts, for they feared the dire consequences, if such potent capabilities were to be wielded by malevolent individuals turned against their own allies.
As he stood there, contemplating the mysterious devil fruit that lay, a flicker of uncertainty danced across his face. "Maybe I should talk to Pops about it?" he pondered aloud, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. Deep down, a gnawing sense of unease had taken root within him, like an unwelcome guest overstaying its welcome. The mere thought of this perplexing fruit intensified his disquietude, causing regret to bubble up within him like a rising tide. Alas, even the act of gazing upon its weathered exterior sent shivers down his spine, as if unseen hands were tracing icy fingers along the delicate nape of his neck, leaving behind an eerie sensation that refused to dissipate.
Thatch's heart skipped a beat, startled by the sudden jolt that ran through him as an unexpected knock reverberated through the silence of his cabin. Intrigued and slightly perplexed, he rose from his comfortable chair, his mind already occupied with thoughts of who could possibly be seeking his presence at this late hour.
As he approached the door, his curiosity intensified, wondering what urgent matter could have driven someone out of their own refuge in the dead of night. With a mixture of anticipation and caution, Thatch gingerly turned the doorknob, revealing the enigmatic figure standing before him in the dimly lit corridor.
It was Teach, his trusted brother, a man whose wide grin was as familiar as the sun rising over the horizon. However, on this particular occasion, Thatch couldn't help but sense a subtle shift in Teach's demeanor that sent a shiver down his spine, as if there were hidden depths behind that seemingly cheerful facade. "Apologies for disturbing you, commander," Teach began, his voice carrying a hint of urgency, "but there is something I wish to discuss with you." Thatch's eyes narrowed slightly, his intuition urging him to tread cautiously, for there was an unspoken unease that lingered in the air.
Thatch scowled, the furrowed lines on his forehead, deepening as he glanced at the round clock hanging on the side of the wooden wall. Its hands hovered just past midnight, casting eerie shadows in the dimly lit room. "It's past midnight, Teach," he muttered, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
Teach, a mischievous glint in his eyes, matched Thatch's scowl with an impish grin that seemed to stretch the limits of his face. "I know," he replied, his voice dripping with intrigue. "I'm afraid it couldn't wait." Thatch let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair as he contemplated the situation.
Reluctantly, he gestured for Teach to step inside, his hand slicing through the air like a conductor guiding an orchestra. "Alright then," he conceded, his words laced with resignation. "Come in, I guess. What can I help you with?" As Teach crossed the threshold, a gust of wind whispered through the cracks of the wooden walls, carrying with it an air of mystery and anticipation.
As Teach strode gracefully into the dimly lit room, his eyes darting around, he casually extended his hand and gently nudged the heavy wooden door, coaxing it to a close with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. Thatch, ever observant with a discerning frown etched on his face, couldn't help but notice that the door, despite Teach's efforts, remained slightly ajar, teasingly inviting a sliver of the outside world to infiltrate their sanctuary.
This sight elicited a sense of unease within Thatch, a worry that the intruding gap might allow an unwelcome deluge of water to seep in. The room was now suffused with an air of anticipation as Teach, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement, broke the silence that hung in the air like a heavy fog. "Well," he inquired, his curiosity palpable, "I was wondering what you were going to do about that devil fruit you found?"
Thatch's head shook in a whirlwind of disbelief, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he yearned for the sweet embrace of sleep. With a gentle tone, he posed a question to Teach, his voice carefully treading the delicate line between weariness and brotherly affection. "Teach, this can wait until morning. Don't you have the watch tonight?"
A flicker of weariness danced across Teach's face, casting his gaze upon the room until it rested upon the humble chest nestled beside Thatch's bed. "Yeah. I offered to walk around the ship so the other guys could get out of the rain."
Thatch's curiosity was piqued as he observed Teach's intense gaze fixated upon the diminutive chest resting upon the oak desk, a hunger gleaming in his eyes like a predator poised to strike. A perplexed frown etched across Thatch's face, prompting him to inquire, "Why, pray tell, why are you looking at the chest like it's a piece of meat?" However, before Teach could offer an explanation, Thatch's authoritative voice resonated through the room, commanding Teach's immediate attention. With a firm gesture, Thatch pointed towards the entrance, his voice carrying an air of urgency, "Then why aren't you on the watch if you're the only one? Go do your job."
With a sly grin etched upon his face, Teach cast a challenging gaze upon Thatch, closing the physical distance between them in a calculated step. As the pirate's thoughts meandered, he couldn't help but ponder whether Teach had always possessed such an imposing stature.
"Ahoy," Teach's voice reverberated with a hint of mischief, his laughter permeating the air like the ominous prelude to a storm. The suspense hung thick in the salty breeze as Thatch, momentarily caught off guard, contemplated his next move.
Yet, before he could summon a retort, the weight of Teach's fist collided forcefully with his already battered ribs, eliciting an agonizing symphony of pain. In that excruciating moment, Thatch's world seemed to blur, the crackling sound of his ribs fracturing echoing through his consciousness. As the pain surged through his body, an unwelcome realization dawned upon him - his ribs, once merely damaged, were now irrevocably shattered.
As he doubled over, his body contorting in an attempt to repel the searing agony that surged through him, he found himself gasping for precious breath, each inhalation a desperate plea for oxygen. Something was undeniably amiss, an unsettling sensation that permeated his very being, impairing his ability to draw in air as he struggled to regain control over his respiration. With his vision blurred by tears of pain, he mustered the strength to lift his gaze, only to be met with a chilling sight. Teach, maintained a sinister grin upon his face, his eyes harboring a wicked gleam that sent shivers down Thatch's spine, leaving him with an unshakeable certainty that this man's intentions were nothing short of murderous, and worse still, he derived immense pleasure from the prospect of executing his sinister plan.
As Thatch's senses heightened, an ominous realization washed over him at that precise moment - the gleaming blade of a knife glinting in the dim light caught his attention.
In a desperate attempt to evade the impending strike, he swiftly rolled to the right, his agility tested to its limits. However, his efforts proved futile, as an agonizing jolt of pain surged through his body when the cold steel of the knife mercilessly pierced his vulnerable back.
Gasping for breath, Thatch found himself sprawled on the unforgiving floor, his every breath a painful reminder of the perilous situation he found himself in. In a display of sadistic satisfaction, Teach tore the knife out of Thatch's wounded flesh, a malevolent glint dancing in his eyes. With a swift, callous kick, he sent Thatch sprawling to the floor, his feeble attempts to alleviate the searing pain met with frustration.
Teach's triumphant laughter echoed through the room, a chilling symphony of malice and dominance. Yet, his attention swiftly shifted toward the chest. With calculated precision, Teach snatched the chest, his fingers curling possessively around it, his anticipation palpable.
A wicked smirk etched across Teach's face, his voice dripping with derision as he addressed the commander with an air of arrogance. "Thank you, commander," he sneered, his words laced with chilling confidence. "I can assure you that this won't go to waste." The sinister glimmer in his eyes intensified as he raised his hand, the very hand that had brought Thatch agony, now clutching the knife.
In the depths of agony, Thatch's senses were overwhelmed by an unbearable pain radiating through every fiber of his being. Despite the excruciating torment that threatened to consume him, he summoned an unwavering determination and mustered all his remaining strength to twist his broken body, locking his gaze upon Teach.
A sinister smirk adorned Teach's face, basking in the triumph of his malevolence. With his dwindling breath, Thatch managed to rasp a single word, barely escaping his trembling lips as a desperate plea: "Why?" Yet, Teach's response was not one of remorse or explanation but a chilling silence that hung heavy in the air.
And then, in a macabre display of mercilessness, Teach raised the glinting blade once more, its malevolent purpose unmistakable. The knife descended with swift and deadly precision, plunging into Thatch's chest, driving the world further away. The searing pain of the second stab barely registered as an icy numbness began to claw its way through his veins, heralding the encroaching grip of death.
As Thatch lay on the cold, wooden floor, his body growing colder and weaker, he heard the sinister murmur of Teach echoing through the room, reverberating in his ears. "The world shall be mine!" Teach's words seeped into Thatch's consciousness, sending shivers down his spine.
With each passing moment, Thatch felt his strength waning, his life slipping away like sand through his fingers. As his eyes gazed upwards towards the ceiling, a kaleidoscope of memories unfolded before him, each image flickering like lightning, illuminating the dark corners of his mind. The faces of loved ones, the triumphs and failures, the joys and sorrows, all intermingled in a whirlwind of emotions.
Regrets and what-ifs mingled with moments of pride and happiness, painting a vivid tapestry of a life lived. In that final breath, Thatch's thoughts wandered to the vastness of the world, the dreams and aspirations that had once burned brightly within him. The realization of his impending end brought a bittersweet clarity, a reminder of the fragility and preciousness of every fleeting moment.
As the cold increased, Thatch found himself engulfed in an eerie numbness; he couldn't feel his legs anymore. The excruciating pain, which had once consumed his every thought, gradually faded as his body surrendered to the clutches of impending demise. Yet, amidst this desolation, a single tear defied the icy grip, tracing a solitary path from his sorrowful eye towards his ear.
"All for an f-fruit. I-I- I W-Would have g-given it t-to you willin-" Despite his trembling voice, laden with frailty, he attempted to articulate his profound sentiments, his words faltering and stuttering in their delivery. Alas, the last remnants of his strength eluded him, leaving his final message unfinished, forever suspended in the air. And so, with a final, labored breath, Thatch succumbed to the embrace of eternity, his life extinguished amidst a pool of his own crimson blood, alone in a dark room.
.
.
Ace
As Ace's small boat gracefully cut through the sparkling waves, carrying him closer to the vibrant and bustling Mock Town, a mix of emotions swirled within him. A gentle salty breeze caressed his face as if nature itself were consoling his heavy heart.
A single tear escaped his eye, silently tracing its path down his cheek. It was a tear born of bittersweet memories, a heartfelt tribute to his former brother, a man whose unwavering support and unconditional love had left an indelible mark on his soul. In the quiet solitude of the open sea, Ace found solace in reminiscing about the countless moments they had shared, the moments when his brother had reached out, extending a hand of friendship that never wavered.
Time and time again, his brother had gone above and beyond, finding ways to lift Ace's spirits, reminding him of his inherent worth and the profound impact he had on this vast world. And as the boat sailed onward, Ace couldn't help but be grateful.
With a heavy heart and unwavering resolve, Ace whispered softly, barely audible, his words carrying a bittersweet blend of grief and determination, "Soon, you can rest in Peace, Thatch. It won't take much longer, brother," His voice quivered with a potent mix of sorrow and steel as he steeled himself to exact vengeance upon Blackbeard.
As Ace sailed through the vast expanse of the open ocean, he could feel the warmth of the sun's radiant rays enveloping him, infusing him with a sense of tranquility. The rhythmic sound of waves lapping against the hull of his boat created a soothing symphony that echoed in harmony with his beating heart.
Casting his gaze upon the horizon, his eyes brimming with anticipation, he expected the island to start appearing.
Instead of the island's serene beauty, a menacing plume of somber smoke rose ominously from the horizon, painting the sky with its foreboding presence. As the acrid scent filled the air, a surge of trepidation coursed through Ace's veins, causing his heart to skip a beat. "What is this?" Ace questioned, his voice tinged with a mixture of disbelief and dread.
Sensing the urgency of the situation, he tapped into the powers of his devil fruit, channeling its formidable energy to propel his boat forward with unprecedented speed. As his vessel sliced through the water, a powerful surge erupted from behind, creating a majestic display of water cascading in his wake. With unwavering resolve, Ace propelled himself toward the source of the smoke.
As Ace's boat gracefully cut through the crystal blue waters, drawing nearer to its destination, an eerie scent wafted through the air, growing more potent with each passing moment. The unmistakable aroma of smoke and fire permeated the atmosphere, teasing Ace's senses and causing a slight gulp to escape his lips.
His nose, finely attuned to danger, caught the acrid scent of ash mingling with the smoky haze. A sense of foreboding crept over Ace as beads of cold sweat formed on his brow. His eyes widened in alarm when, unexpectedly, he glanced upward and witnessed a peculiar sight.
What appeared to be delicate snowflakes gently descended from the heavens, casting an ethereal glow against the backdrop of a summer sky. The paradoxical scene left Ace bewildered, for snowfall in the midst of warm weather was a rarity. Curiosity overcame his initial confusion, and Ace extended his hand, allowing a lone snowflake to land delicately on his open palm.
As the tiny crystal melted away, revealing its true nature, Ace's heart skipped a beat. It wasn't the gentle kiss of snowflakes showering the earth; instead, it was a cascade of minuscule ash particles.
With his heart pounding in his chest, Ace clenched his hand into a formidable fist, a determined expression etched across his face. Urgency propelled him forward as his boat sliced through the crashing waves, propelled by the relentless wind. The anticipation in his veins grew with each passing moment, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. However, as the outline of the island materialized before him, an overwhelming shock surged through his being, freezing him in his tracks. The sight that unfolded before his disbelieving eyes shattered his expectations into a million shards of disbelief.
With his heart pounding in anticipation, Ace set his eyes upon Mock Town, a bustling haven for pirates that he had heard so much about. He imagined a bustling dock, teeming with colorful vessels adorned with Jolly Roger flags, ready to set sail on perilous adventures. However, as he approached, a daunting sight unfolded before his very eyes. The entire island, once a vibrant hub of pirate activity, lay in ruins. Thick plumes of black smoke billowed into the sky, enveloping the atmosphere in an eerie darkness that made it seem as though the sun had been snuffed out, plunging the land into an eternal night.
The once-vibrant landscape had transformed into a haunting tableau of darkness as if a volcano had erupted. However, perplexingly enough, there was no volcanic presence on the island. It seemed as though the very essence of the earth had been consumed by an all-encompassing darkness, leaving no patch of ground untouched by its eerie embrace. Yet, amidst this bleakness, resilient remnants of once-thriving structures stubbornly clung to the existence, their skeletal frames standing as silent witnesses to the cataclysmic event that had unfolded.
With swift determination, Ace's feet propelled him towards the shore, his heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of crashing waves. The remnants of a once-thriving town lay smoldering, the acrid scent of charred debris permeating the air, shrouding it in an eerie, ash-laden mist. A knot of revulsion tightened in his gut as he ventured further, his footsteps leaving imprints upon the scorched earth. Alongside the shoreline, he cast his gaze upon the skeletal remains of ships, their twisted frames bearing no resemblance to their former grandeur. The ravages of flames had devoured any recognizable features.
As Ace pondered the question, "What happened here?" a chilling wave of dread washed over him, causing his heart to race. Without hesitation, he darted through the desolate streets of the charred town, his senses overwhelmed by the haunting sight before him. In every direction, burned buildings stood as solemn reminders of a cataclysmic event, their skeletal frames reaching toward the ashen sky. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, a palpable reminder of the devastation that had consumed this forsaken place. Even the ground beneath his feet seemed to bear witness to the tragedy; its once vibrant surface now transformed into a desolate expanse of blackened earth. From various corners of the scorched landscape, tendrils of black smoke continued to rise, seemingly emanating from hidden pockets of smoldering destruction.
The expansive green forest that once blanketed a staggering 80% of the enchanting island now lays in ruin, consumed by the ferocious inferno that descended upon its once verdant landscape. The devastating flames ravaged every inch of the once-lush terrain, leaving no tree defiantly reaching towards the heavens nor a single creature scurrying amidst the vibrant undergrowth. In the wake of this catastrophic event, the forest now stands as a haunting graveyard, where skeletal remains of towering arboreal giants lay scattered haphazardly, intermingled with the charred remnants of what was once a thriving ecosystem.
In a desolate, charred town, Ace stood amidst the remnants of what was once a thriving community, his voice reverberating through the eerie silence that enveloped the air.
"Anyone Here? Can Anyone Hear Me?!!" With a mixture of desperation and hope, he bellowed his plea to the heavens above, his words echoing off the scorched buildings and reaching the vast expanse of the sky. As his voice dissipated into the emptiness, he strained his ears, expecting a response, a sign of life to emerge from the shadows. Yet, to his dismay, the only sound that lingered was the haunting echo of his own voice bouncing off the desolate streets. The silence that greeted him was as still and lifeless as a graveyard, sending a chill down his spine that prickled his skin with a sense of foreboding.
"What, what could-" Ace's words trailed off as his eyes scanned the scene before him. A strange object, mysteriously resting on the ground, captured his attention. At first glance, it appeared to be a peculiar black rock.
Ace ventured nearer, his every step filled with a sense of foreboding. Ace's breath hitched in his throat, his heart pounding with an unsettling rhythm. The rock wasn't a rock; what it was caused his eyes to widen and his mouth to gape in horror. Before him lay a lifeless human body, its charred form so ravaged by a fire that made it impossible to tell if it was a man or a woman.
The once-vibrant flesh, now transformed into an eerie obsidian hue, mirrored the depths of despair that engulfed Ace's senses. The pungent stench emanating from the desecrated corpse invaded his nostrils, assaulting his senses with an overwhelming wave of repulsion. A cocktail of putrid decay and burnt flesh filled the air, threatening to overwhelm his delicate constitution. The sheer intensity of the odor nearly reduced him to his knees, his stomach churning with a nauseating mixture of disbelief and revulsion.
With a swift and instinctive motion, Ace's head snapped around, his eyes refusing to meet the haunting sight of a lifeless figure sprawled before him. As he cast his gaze across the desolate and ravaged street, a heartbreaking tableau unfolded, revealing a harrowing scene of utter devastation.
Scored across the landscape, the charred remnants of humanity lay scattered, their once vibrant existence reduced to mere remnants of ash and bone. Each body consumed by unforgiving flames. In an attempt to steady his racing heartbeat and quiet his racing thoughts, Ace inhaled deeply, drawing upon the well of resilience within him. Gathering his courage, he ventured forth, striding purposefully into the heart of the fire-ravaged town, his path determined by a decisive turn to the left.
Ace's eyes widened in sheer horror as a gasp of shock escaped his lips. Before him stood a grotesque tableau. What had once been human bodies now lay strewn like a macabre mountain, their charred remains blending together in a twisted amalgamation of agony. The sheer magnitude of the carnage overwhelmed Ace, rendering him incapable of comprehending the staggering number of corpses before him. It was as if they had fused together in a grim dance of death, their burned limbs reaching out in a grim symphony of despair. Yet, what struck him the most were their mouths, forever frozen in a silent scream of unimaginable pain. Every single one of them, without exception, had perished with their mouths wide open, an indelible testament to the horrors they had endured before succumbing to their fate.
As Ace gazed upon the charred remnants of life, his eyes fixated on the disfigured visages that lay before him. The haunting sight stirred his imagination, almost conjuring the faint echoes of agonized screams that seemed to reverberate through the air. Their mouths were frozen in a petrified scream, with lips parted and twisted in eternal agony; the remnants of their faces bore witness to the unfathomable horror they had endured. Hollow cavities now occupied the space where their eyes once sparkled with life, transforming into desolate pits that mirrored the void left behind.
As Ace cautiously ventured further into the desolate, charred town, he mustered every ounce of his willpower to avert his gaze from the haunting sight of lifeless bodies strewn across the streets. He deliberately shifted his attention towards the decimated tavern on his right, where a grim tableau of scorched corpses lay in solemn repose near its shattered entrance - a chilling reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded here. With a heavy heart, Ace momentarily diverted his eyes, seeking solace in the peculiar sight of a weathered well standing defiantly amidst the destruction.
As his gaze fixated upon its warped stones, he couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of its resilience being tested, as if the intense heat had caused the very foundation to tremble. Vulnerable and on the verge of collapse, the beleaguered well appeared to mirror the desolation that surrounded it.
As Ace approached the well, the smell of badly cooked meat became stronger in the air. It felt like it was coming from the bottom of the well; Ace gulped as if trying to prepare himself for what he was about to see; placing his hands on the railing around the well, he looked downwards at the bottom of the well, what he saw made him sick to his stomach.
Deep within the murky depths of the desolate well, a haunting scene unfolded before Ace's weary eyes. Illuminated by the sunlight, several lifeless bodies lay on the water. The charred remnants bore witness to the undeniable agony they had endured, leaving Ace's heart heavy with an overwhelming sense of grief.
Through the haze of despair, Ace's tear-filled gaze discerned the presence of three valiant women and three stalwart men. And there, nestled amidst the solemn tableau, was a little boy, his innocence forever lost. Overwhelmed by the weight of the sight before him, Ace couldn't bear to witness the aftermath any longer. He averted his gaze, his eyes brimming with teardrops that mirrored the anguish in his soul. A profound sorrow washed over him.
As Ace cautiously stepped forward, his gaze was captivated by a desolate corner of a burned house. There, in a haunting tableau, two charred figures sat, their lifeless forms propped against the crumbling structure. As he drew nearer, a profound realization washed over him - one body, stoic and immense, belonged to an adult, while the other, tragically small, belonged to a child. What struck him most was the heartbreaking scene they formed, for the adult, in a final act of unconditional love and protection, had enveloped the young one within its outstretched arms, trying to protect the child from the flames. Their mouths, once vibrant with laughter and conversation, were now frozen wide open.
.
.
"Who did All this?"
.
.
???
"Tell me, what do you hope to achieve with all this?"
"Freedom, everyone in this world deserve that!"
"Do they? You say people deserve freedom, but how much do they? Absolute freedom is not possible, if everyone thinks they have freedom to do everything they want, is in human nature for them to fight, one day their perspective of freedom will clash with one another, wars will start because of the so called freedom. Rules are implemented to keep things under control, to restrain some of that freedom for the good of the world, and then there's pirates like you who think they know better than everyone, who think they are above the rules. The more freedom someone has, the less everyone else will have."
If you want to read the following 7 Chapters, Check Out the LINK Above