Reborn As a Pirate - Chapter 199

Chapter 199: Santos Descends to Chaos!
A radiant beam of golden light pierced the sky, emanating from the heart of Santos City. It was a spectacle that drew the eyes of all who beheld it, sparking a flurry of speculation.

“Could it be emanating from the Palace of Saint Thomas? Or perhaps the main hall of the Holy Libra Church?” pondered Ryan as he stepped out of the cabin, his gaze fixed on the distant luminosity. The light bore a majestic and daunting energy, unlike anything he had felt before. It was an amalgam of forces, both familiar and utterly foreign.

Whatever the source, Ryan knew instinctively that it surpassed ordinary powers, transcending the realms of third or even fourth level beings.

“Could it be the Sacred Scales?” he mused, the thought surfacing swiftly among the whirl of possibilities.

On the island, the known formidable forces were Princess Drop of Water and Pope Libra, both renowned level four entities. Yet, the idea of hidden powers lingered, undisclosed and potent.

Ryan recalled his encounter with the Blood Witch Selina, a paragon of fourth-level prowess. Despite her formidable abilities, even she couldn’t muster such a display of power. This left only one plausible source: the Sacred Scales, a legendary artifact bestowed by the God of Libra. But rumors had swirled about the theft of its key. Had the thief dared to unlock its power?

Lost in his thoughts, Ryan was about to seek counsel when the door before him swung open, revealing Freni, her expression etched with solemnity.

“The power of faith mixed with raw spirituality… It must be the Sacred Scales,” she declared, her certainty stemming from firsthand experience with the sacred ceremonies.

Behind Freni, Cecilia stood silent, her serious eyes reflecting internal unrest, despite her outward composure.

“Captain, what’s our move? Do we retreat?” Ryan asked, his voice deep with concern.

The situation was volatile. With the Holy Libra activated, Santos City had transformed from a bubbling undercurrent to a ticking bomb. Approaching now seemed perilous at best.

Before Freni could respond, the sky changed once more. The robust beam thinned, scattering into myriad golden specks that hung in the air, eventually coalescing into a vast luminous screen visible from every vantage point on the island.

Then, a chorus of countless voices, harmonizing into one resonant tone, filled the air, ringing out a single command that echoed across the landscape:

“Open.”

As the image on the screen transitioned from a blur into sharp focus, a figure of grace and mystery appeared at its center. She was a young woman, perhaps in her early twenties, clad in an elegant gown that trailed along the ground. A thin veil obscured her face, but behind it shone a pair of striking blue-gold eyes, deep and reflective like the ocean itself.

“That’s Ariel, the Water Drop Princess, isn’t it?” Ryan murmured, his eyes narrowing in a mix of recognition and suspicion.

“I’ve sensed something akin to a witch’s aura about her before,” whispered Freni, the captain, catching Ryan’s attention.

“A witch-like presence?” Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. Insights clicked together like a sudden strike of lightning, yet the complete picture remained elusive, obscured by a mist of uncertainty.

“Could the Water Drop Princess also be a witch?”

“I’m not certain,” Freni replied, shaking her head slightly. “The aura is faint, peculiarly so. My training on the Scholar Path aids my perception, and perhaps experiences from my youth make me sensitive to such nuances. But it’s so subtle that another, even a fourth-level witch, might not detect it at all.”

Ryan’s brow furrowed in thought, but before he could delve deeper, the scene on the screen shifted. Ariel gracefully ascended the steps to the platform before the Holy Libra at the main hall of the Libra Holy Church. A solemn aura enveloped her as she approached the sacred artifact.

The Sacred Scale radiated a vibrant golden light, its somber hues awakening with life. The knights of the Libra Temple, including a dignified elderly man, encircled the platform, their attention riveted on Ariel. Only she could withstand the overwhelming aura emanating from the Sacred Scale.

Ariel closed her eyes briefly, perhaps savoring a moment of recollection or reverence. She then bowed her head, and beside her, an ice crystal coffin materialized. Though the coffin’s surface was hazy, the silhouette of a person could just be made out within, their identity a mystery.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting…” Ariel’s voice, gentle yet resonant, filled the air, stirring the hearts of all who heard.

Suddenly, Pope Libra, who had been composed until now, recognized the gravity of the scene. “Ariel, stop what you are doing right now!” he bellowed across the platform. “Stealing holy objects is a grave blasphemy. Continue, and not even the flames of a holy fire could cleanse your sins!”

As Pope Libra floated upward, a formidable golden aura exploded around him, a clear sign of his rising fury and power.

Unmoved by the Pope’s condemnation, Ariel simply gazed at the figure in the coffin. From her robe, she withdrew a blood-red fruit, its appearance causing a palpable shift in the atmosphere.

“Plop, plop…” The sound echoed unnaturally, every beat causing the hearts of those watching to slow, captivated by the fruit’s sinister allure.

“What’s this?” Ryan clutched his chest, feeling an unnatural throb pulse through him.

The sensation was a tangled mix of greed and desire, evoked by “heart of gluttony.” It was as if consuming the fruit promised unimaginable benefits.

“I don’t know,” Freni admitted, her face clouded with concern. “But it’s deeply troubling. This is no ordinary magical plant.”

The audience watched, spellbound, as the drama on the platform unfolded, regardless of their reactions.

On the elevated dais, the Water Drop Princess Ariel, under the watchful eyes of all present, brought the sinister, blood-red fruit to her lips and consumed it. As she did, dark veins crept across her alabaster skin, and a malevolent magical aura unfurled around her like a dark lotus blossoming into the night.

“Magic… she’s a witch! This is heresy!” The shouts erupted from the ranks of the Libra Knights and echoed across the surrounding isles.

Ariel turned sharply at the sound of the outcry. Her gaze alone seemed to carry a dark power. Wherever her eyes landed, the Libra Knights within ten meters spontaneously combusted into black flames, their screams piercing the air as they were reduced to ashes.

The black flames spread unchecked, throwing the crowd into a frenzy. Onlookers scrambled away in terror, their actions stripped of any dignity once ascribed to the Libra Knights, desperate only to escape the encroaching dark inferno.

High above, Pope Libra, seemingly unaffected by the chaos below, fixed his gaze on Ariel, whose visage now mirrored the archetypal evil witch. “Who are you?” he demanded, his voice resonating with authority and fear. “Where is the real Water Drop Princess?”

Silence fell, heavy and thick. Ariel, once a symbol of purity and benevolence, had transformed before their eyes. The realization was shattering; the gentle princess who had walked among them like an angel was likely gone, usurped by this dark entity. In the minds of the people, witches were anathema, the harbinger of calamity and ruin, a belief deeply embedded in their culture.

Confusion and denial swept through the crowd. “This must be a nightmare…” “A devil’s deception!” “Where is our God now? Why does He not strike down this witch?”

Disbelief turned to despair. “Where is God?” The repeated cries mirrored the crumbling of faith, a structure painstakingly built over generations, now fracturing in mere moments.

Amidst the tumult, the ground itself began to tremble more violently than before. Massive cracks tore through Santos’ soil, heralding something ominous. A loud, explosive noise shattered the air as a pyramid-shaped mountain at the heart of the island burst open, revealing colossal, clawed appendages.

From the ruptured entrance of the underground maze, a deluge of monsters cascaded down like a grotesque rainfall. They landed with bone-jarring thuds, their roars deafening, eyes gleaming with a brutal, primal hunger.

The island plunged into chaos, its denizens overcome with a dread unlike any other, their screams a harrowing testament to the unfolding apocalypse.

“No!!!” The cries of despair were almost drowned out by the monstrous uproar as every soul on the island grappled with the unfolding cataclysm, their worst fears realized.

The moment a horde of labyrinthine monsters spilled into the world, they unleashed havoc, attacking every living creature in sight with a primal ferocity. This surge of violence plunged the land into mourning and chaos, yet it was merely a precursor to something far more ominous.

Amidst the turmoil, a colossal claw, a hundred meters in length, tore through the ground at the maze’s entrance. It emerged slowly, ominously, a harbinger of a monstrous entity straining to free itself from the earth’s grasp. Onlookers, battle-hardened professionals among them, watched in stunned horror as this gigantic appendage made its presence felt. Their faces, once resolute, now mirrored the despair that gripped their hearts.

For if a mere claw spanned a hundred meters, one could only imagine the sheer scale of the creature it belonged to. These veterans had faced formidable beasts before, towering beings that stood a dozen meters tall and inspired fear in the hearts of even the bravest. Yet, compared to this gargantuan claw, those monsters seemed almost pitiful.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them quaked violently. Another claw, identical in its monstrous size, burst through the soil, shattering it like glass. Both claws dug in, pulling an even larger body from the depths, a titanic form that began to reshape the landscape itself. As it rose, the earth trembled and vast plumes of dust filled the air, making nearby boulders seem no more than pebbles tumbling from its massive frame.

The creature that now stood before them was unlike any they had seen, a behemoth stretching hundreds of meters into the sky, casting a shadow so vast it engulfed entire landmarks, like the Palace of Santos. It bore the semblance of a fox, but grotesquely magnified, its body a shimmering purple. Nine immense tails fanned out behind it, each as large as a hill, resting heavily upon the earth.