Chapter 37 'Future'

Shanks POV

I was seeing the future. Exactly two seconds into it.

The moment he moved, I did too.

I sidestepped the first slash. It came fast, but I'd already seen it. Another strike followed-lower, sharper-I twisted my body and slipped past it by an inch.

But even then—

SLASH

SPLATTER

Pain burst through my left eye.

"Aaagh!" I staggered back, hand clutching my face. My left vision went black, wet and burning. I tasted iron in the air.

"Shanks!" Rock's voice tore through the battlefield. I felt his massive presence thundering toward me like a landslide.

Too far. Too slow.

I pushed out my magic instinctively, Destruction flaring in all directions. A nearby cultist who thought he'd gotten lucky was erased in an instant.

Gone—just like that.

But it wasn't over.

I sensed him again. The one who landed the hit.

He was still coming. Strong. Fast. Clean. His steps were precise, no wasted motion. I opened my right eye, and he was already there. directly in front of me.

Sword pulled back. Ready to finish it.

My own blade was gone. Lost somewhere in the dust and blood behind me. I couldn't move fast enough. Couldn't grab it. Couldn't counter.

"Shit."

I threw out a burst of Destruction Magic again, but he saw it coming. He weaved around it like wind slipping past cracks in stone. The ground behind him destroyed, but he was untouched.

'Am I going to die?'

I didn't know. For the first time in a while, I didn't know.

Something inside me stirred. Not magic. Something deeper. 

But it was too late.

I felt his blade coming down again. I couldn't dodge this one. I was off-balance. Bleeding. Blind in one eye.

My legs wouldn't move in time.

He charged his power. 

I closed my eyes and waited for the pain but it didn't some. 

SPLATTER

Blood splashed across my face, warm and heavy but I was still alive.

I opened my eyes.

Rock stood in front of me, panting, his massive form towering over the enemy. But his right hand-

It was gone.

"...Rock!" I shouted, my voice hoarse, choking on blood and disbelief.

His huge arm lay beside me, severed cleanly at the elbow.

Something inside me broke.

WHOOSH

The world shifted. The air grew heavier like the sky itself was bending under pressure.

It wasn't the Haki I knew. This was deeper. Wilder. Something primal in me had snapped, and the ripple it caused in the world was impossible to ignore.

My Observation flared out, wider than ever before. I felt the children nearby faint instantly. Their tiny bodies dropped in unison, not from harm, but from the overwhelming pressure.

The cultist-the one who had taken Rock's arm-stumbled, visibly shaken.

Even Rock glanced back at me, his one remaining hand trembling slightly. "Tha tpower...?"

I staggered to my feet, pressing my hand to my eye again. Blood dripped through my fingers. I tore a cloth and wrapped it around my wound. 

Across from us, the cultist-no, this thing-laughed low.

A mumble escaped his mouth. I couldn't catch it, but Rock did.

His face twisted in shock. "How do you know that name?!"

The cultist's laughter grew.

"I am the one who carries the will of the Devil," he rasped, his voice almost musical in its madness.

He reached up and pulled back his hood.

His face was… wrong.

Half human. Half goat. Two curling horns twisted from one side of his skull, and one eye glowed a sickly red while the other was blind white.

He said. "his descendant must die here.

I stared at him, breathing hard.

My hand shook as I regretted not learning Healing Magic. My ribs cracked with every breath, but I stayed standing.

I didn't care about his face. Or his name.

All I knew was that he hurt Rock.

"You're insane," I muttered.

Rock smirked and reached for the torn sleeve at his shoulder. "That was your only free shot."

With a burst of magic, he sealed the bleeding from his severed arm. The skin knit itself crudely. Not perfect, but enough to stop the worst of it.

"Shanks," he said, not looking at me. "Stay back."

"Like hell."

"I said-" He turned his gaze on me. "You don't need to prove anything. Not now."

I bit back my pride, gritted my teeth… and dropped to one knee. My legs were still shaking. I'd only be a liability.

"...Fine," I said. "But kill that bastard for me."

Rock cracked his neck and turned to face the priest. His huge figure gave me a sense of calm.

The goat-faced cultist was already charging.

Their clash sent tremors through the battlefield. Every strike shook the earth, magic flaring in the sky like a thunderstorm made of raw power and rage.

Rock swung with his club, now wielded one-handed but still monstrous in strength. The priest danced like a shadow, blades materializing in his palms, lashing out with black and red magic that hissed on contact with Rock's Armament.

"Descendant!" the cultist howled mid-swing, voice warping. "You were born cursed!"

"And you talk too much!" Rock shouted and bashed him straight in the ribs.

The cultist flew, crashing into the ruins—but not dead.

The battle raged on, and I forced myself to watch, to learn, to stay alert.

Then-

BOOM

The sound of heavy footfalls.

The wind shifted.

From the far ridge, figures emerged. Dozens of them. Giants. Some even larger than Rock. Their bodies bore armor made of stone and bone, and many had long braided beards and war hammers.

"The elders," Rock said.

I turned and saw them clearly- residents of Stonerest.

Leading them were three elders, each exuding pressure that matched even the priest.

One of them raised a massive hand and slammed his staff into the ground.

"Enough," he said. His voice was like rolling boulders.

Magic chains erupted from the earth, binding the cultist mid-dash. He shrieked, but it was over.

The battle was done.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding and collapsed to both knees, staring up at the sky.

---

Present Day

"After that I fainted for like five days straight and when I woke up I was back in Sun Village..." I recalled to the Second Guild Master. Of course I did not say everything. 

He nodded. 

"Then I will tell you what the Tarot Gods really are.." 

He started. 

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