**Chapter 04: A Journey with a Crewmate**
The sun hung high in the cerulean sky, its golden rays filtering through the dense canopy of the jungle. The forest breathed with life—birds chirped melodiously from unseen perches, and the rustling of leaves betrayed the movements of small animals darting between undergrowth. The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and the rich, earthy aroma of the soil. Towering trees loomed above, their sprawling branches forming a labyrinth of green and gold, while shafts of sunlight pierced through, creating shimmering patterns on the forest floor.
Through this verdant expanse, a young man moved with effortless grace. His name was **Meliodas**, a name bestowed upon him by Whitebeard himself. He was diminutive in stature, yet his presence radiated boundless energy. His golden-blonde hair, tousled and boyish, reflected the sunlight like spun gold. A red tie dangled loosely around his neck, contrasting with his otherwise casual attire—a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black shorts, and sturdy boots meant for travel. Slung over one shoulder was a leather satchel, weathered from use but holding an air of importance.
Meliodas leapt nimbly from one tree branch to another, as if gravity itself were an afterthought. With a carefree grin, he glanced down at the ground below and called out, his voice light but teasing, "Can't you move any faster, Teach?"
On the forest floor, **Marshall D. Teach**, or simply Teach, trudged along with less enthusiasm. His large frame was weighed down by a bulging backpack, and beads of sweat trickled down his face. His unkempt hair clung to his forehead, and his breath came in labored gasps. "Are you a monkey or something, brat?" he barked between heavy breaths. "We've been at this for three hours! Let's take a small break, huh?"
Meliodas halted on a sturdy branch, crouching like a cat surveying its prey. He peered down at Teach with a mix of amusement and mild exasperation. "Looks like I don't have much choice," he said with a dramatic sigh. Effortlessly, he hopped to the ground, landing softly in front of the larger man. "Fine. Let's rest for a bit."
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They settled in a clearing within the jungle. Teach collapsed onto a fallen tree trunk, his backpack discarded at his feet. He guzzled water from a canteen, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Meliodas, by contrast, appeared untouched by their journey. He reclined against the trunk of a massive tree, its bark rough yet comforting, and stretched his legs out lazily. Pulling a shiny red apple from his satchel, he bit into it with a satisfying crunch.
The light filtering through the leaves dappled his face in patches of gold, and his emerald-green eyes glimmered with quiet contemplation as he gazed at the sunbeams piercing the foliage. "The weather in this forest is strange," he remarked, his voice soft but curious. "It's like living in summer during spring."
Teach grunted in agreement, staring at the seemingly endless path ahead. "This forest feels like it goes on forever," he muttered, his tone laced with irritation. "Are you sure the treasure's even here?"
Meliodas pulled a worn book from his satchel, its leather cover embossed with intricate designs. Flipping through its pages, he replied, "Of course. The rumors say one of the twelve legendary swords is buried here, hidden since the era of Joy Boy."
"Joy Boy?" Teach chuckled, his laughter deep and booming. "It's been ages since I've heard that name! But a rumor is just a rumor, kid. We don't have solid proof that blade's here."
Snapping the book shut, Meliodas shrugged nonchalantly. "Doesn't hurt to try," he said with a grin.
Teach groaned, rubbing his neck. "Easy for you to say. This island is massive! And why am I the one stuck babysitting you? Oyaji spoils you too much."
Meliodas shot him a calm yet piercing look. "By the way," he began, his voice carrying a rare seriousness, "I've never asked you this before, but why did you join the Whitebeard Pirates, Teach?"
Teach's expression shifted, softening into something resembling nostalgia. His crooked smile revealed teeth worn and uneven, but there was an earnestness in his gaze. "A man's ambitions don't stop at just one phase of his life," he replied cryptically. "You've always gotta be one step ahead of everyone else."
Meliodas tilted his head, his green eyes steady and unyielding. "And what does that have to do with my question?"
After a calm silence, Meliodas leaned against the tree and took a rest after some thoughts came to his mind;
'I am Meliodas Yulion. That is my name in this world.
The name Meliodas was chosen by the old man, Whitebeard, while I picked Yulion as my surname, though no one really calls me that. My body is so light compared to what it once was—flexible and agile. I can pull off countless moves with ease and spend most of my time training.
Once, I was a king shackled by monotony, but now, here in this world, I am a pirate. It's strange, not knowing my family or origins, yet being with Whitebeard's crew makes me feel like I belong.
Pirates are just one part of this vast world. I read the newspapers daily. There's so much to see, so many thrilling adventures waiting. But honestly, traveling with Whitebeard feels dull—like he doesn't care about the treasure hunt game. I just want to grow strong enough to begin my journey alone.
Oh, and the powers of this world—those infamous Devil Fruits? I have one myself. When the crew hesitated, I ate it right in front of them. Turns out, I can reflect attacks sent my way. It's not flashy, but I enjoy testing it out.
Now, here I am with Teach. My first solo expedition. I wish I weren't stuck with him, but he's here to protect me under Oyaji's orders. And our goal is...'
Meliodas stood abruptly, brushing dirt off his shorts. "Let's move, Teach. That legendary sword is waiting for me."
Teach groaned but hauled himself to his feet, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. "You're too impatient, brat," he grumbled. "What's got you so curious about this sword anyway?"
A playful smile tugged at Meliodas's lips as he gazed toward the horizon, his emerald eyes alight with hope. "The rumors say it creates copies of its wielder."
Teach smirked, his grin almost conspiratorial. "You sure love believing in fairy tales. But I guess we're alike in that way. Dreams… they never end."
Meliodas turned, his grin wide and earnest. "And since you're helping me find this sword, I'll help you achieve your dream someday."
From behind, Teach's expression darkened momentarily, his smile turning sly as Meliodas marched ahead, oblivious. "You'd better keep that promise, kid," Teach muttered under his breath.
The jungle around them rustled with the whisper of the wind, and the two figures pressed forward into the unknown, their journey just beginning.
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