The ink upon the Poneglyphs recorded a blank century in history, but the shadow now enveloping the Red Line was even more suffocating than those heaviest of ancient inscriptions.
The strata of the Red Line cracked and popped beneath the intense heat.
It was the earth’s cry of agony as the World Government’s blade of slaughter cleaved through the final settlement of the Lunarian race for the third time.
The flames that had once symbolized the glory of the “God Tribe” now licked at the ruins, reducing a thousand years of civilization to charred wasteland.
The acrid stench of burning flesh filled the air.
Black feathers, like shattered stardust, mixed with scorching ash and drifted down from the burning vault, covering the crimson earth.
Mo leaned against a broken white-jade pillar.
The magnificent wings that had once been as beautiful as black obsidian now had only half a wing structure remaining.
Charred feathers clung to his bleeding wounds.
Every breath sent stabbing pain through his ribs.
He forcibly swallowed the metallic taste of blood rising in his throat.
He couldn’t show weakness in front of Yue.
Not far away, Yue was curled up in the corner of a collapsed altar, cradling an infant in her arms.
A hideous laser burn scar marred her left arm.
The wound that had once burned with golden flames now consisted of nothing but dead-gray, charred flesh.
Yet both of their gazes remained firmly fixed upon the child in her arms.
He was Xing, the last bloodline of the Lunarian royal family.
The baby slept peacefully in his mother’s arms, his tiny pink face still covered with traces of vernix.
A pair of tiny wings, not yet fully developed, sprouted from his back and were covered in soft black down.
Every so often, faint wisps of black flame escaped with his breath, flickering around the edge of his swaddling cloth like fireflies.
It was the innate mark of the Lunarians, proof of their symbiosis with the heavens and earth.
Yet in this era, it had become a death sentence hanging over their heads.
“They won’t stop.”
Mo’s voice was hoarse.
He raised a hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth before looking toward the distant horizon.
There, the silhouettes of the Five Elders emerged like ghosts, carrying an oppressive presence that seemed capable of passing judgment upon everything.
“They won’t even spare a chick that has just hatched.
So this is the World Government’s ‘justice.'”
Yue lowered her head and kissed the baby’s soft hair.
Tears silently slid down her cheeks and fell onto the infant’s hand.
The tears still carried some of her warmth, making the baby stir uneasily and smack his lips.
“He’s still so small…”
Her voice choked with emotion.
“He hasn’t even seen the real sky yet.”
“That’s exactly why we have to make sure he survives.”
Mo’s gaze suddenly sharpened, like a flame burning at its absolute limit.
“If he survives, he’ll get to see it.”
He pushed himself upright against the stone pillar.
His ruined wings trembled slightly, and the remaining flames reignited, though they were far dimmer than before.
“Use the ‘Seal,’ Yue.”
Yue abruptly raised her head.
Fear and inner conflict flashed across her eyes.
She knew exactly what her husband meant.
It was the power of the Seal-Seal Fruit that she had awakened—a forbidden ability classified as taboo by their people.
It could forcibly strip a living being of its racial gifts and seal them deep within the bloodline.
But the price was the user’s life and their own racial characteristics.
Once activated, she would completely lose the powers of the Lunarians, and her lifespan would rapidly diminish, as though she had been forced prematurely into the withering stage of a plant.
“But you…”
“No buts.”
Mo interrupted her.
His tone was firm and unquestionable, yet filled with indescribable tenderness.
“You and Xing surviving is the best answer we can give to our people.
“I’ll do everything I can to hold them back.
You take the secret passage to the rendezvous ship at the edge of the Red Line, then head deep into the New World.
“Run as far as you can.”
He walked over to Yue and gently caressed the baby’s cheek.
“Tell Xing that his father was named Mo.
“And that he died protecting the people he wanted to protect.”
Tears streamed down Yue’s face.
She knew she had no choice.
Trembling, she raised her hand.
Faint golden patterns appeared in her palm.
They moved like living creatures, radiating an ancient and mysterious aura.
When she placed her palm against the baby’s back, the tiny wing buds on Mox’s back seemed to melt away like snow beneath sunlight.
The black flames escaping with his breath vanished instantly as well.
Even the overwhelming life force belonging to the Lunarians, a vitality that seemed to transcend all other life, was completely erased.
The baby’s body became warm and ordinary, just like countless human babies born upon the seas.
At the same moment, Yue’s face turned as pale as paper.
The flame on her back went out with a soft puff.
Her once glossy black wings rapidly lost their luster, becoming withered and gray.
She staggered into Mo’s arms, her breathing growing faint.
“Yue…”
Mo held her tightly, his voice filled with anguish.
“I’m fine…”
Yue gave him a weak smile and raised a hand to caress his scarred face.
“Go… Don’t let them… catch up…”
Mo drew a deep breath.
He took one last look at his wife and child before turning and charging toward the shadow that represented despair.
“Yue, I love you!”
His voice pierced through the flames and thunderous explosions, reaching her ears clearly.
“Remember—the Lunarians will never bow their heads!”
His figure shot toward the Five Elders like a meteor.
The energy released from the clash made the entire Red Line tremble.
Yue knew that her husband was using his life to carve out a path to survival for them.
She gritted her teeth and used the last of her strength to pick up the now-“ordinary” Mox before rushing into the secret passage beneath the altar.
The passage was pitch-black.
Only her heavy breathing echoed through it.
Her withered wings scraped against the stone walls, sending waves of pain through her body, but she didn’t dare stop.
Every second of delay could cause her husband’s sacrifice to be wasted.
Ten years passed in the blink of an eye, yet somehow felt as long as a century.
On the coast of an unnamed island somewhere in the New World, waves crashed against the reefs, sending droplets sparkling with rainbow colors beneath the sunlight.
Ten-year-old Mox sat upon a smooth rock, swinging a fishing rod in his hands.
His long black hair fluttered in the sea breeze, revealing a pair of clear, curious eyes.
His skin was exceptionally pale, standing out sharply against the sun-darkened wild vegetation and creatures on the island.
He looked somewhat out of place.
“Mom, I don’t think the fish are hungry today.”
He turned toward the woman nearby who was sorting through a fishing net.
His voice was bright and clear.
Yue looked up.
Her face was weathered by the years, and the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes were much deeper than they had been ten years ago.
Her hands were covered with thick calluses and countless tiny scars, marks left behind by years of fishing and gathering wild fruit.
The wings that had once symbolized the glory of the royal family had long since been tightly wrapped beneath strips of cloth and hidden under her coarse clothing.
Even the feathers that occasionally peeked out carried a dull, faded color.
“Just wait a little longer, Xing.”
She smiled.
There was a hint of exhaustion in that smile.
“We’ll definitely catch something today.”
All these years, the two of them had lived like a pair of frightened rabbits on this deserted island, completely isolated from the outside world.
Yue taught Mox how to identify edible plants and how to catch fish in the cracks between the reefs, but she never mentioned a single word about their origins.
Whenever a ship passed in the distance, she would immediately pull Xing into a cave deep within the jungle.
She would cover the entrance with thick vines and wouldn’t emerge until she was certain they were safe.
Xing didn’t understand why his mother was always so vigilant.
He didn’t understand why she would stare blankly toward the Red Line late at night.
And he certainly didn’t understand what the black feathers occasionally revealed from beneath the cloth wrapped around his mother’s back were.
He only knew that his mother loved him very much.
For his sake, it seemed she would do anything.
Until one day, while gathering driftwood that had washed ashore, Yue found a report stating that CP0 had appeared in the surrounding waters.
Her face instantly turned deathly pale.
That night, she didn’t sleep at all.
“Xing, pack your things.
We’re leaving.”
The following morning, Yue’s voice carried a firmness he had never heard before.
“Where are we going?” Mox asked curiously.
“The East Blue.”
Yue gazed toward the distant horizon.
A trace of hope appeared in her eyes.
“It’s the farthest and most peaceful place from the Red Line.
“Perhaps… we can finally live there in peace.”
It took them three full years to find a merchant ship willing to take them aboard.
During those three years, Yue relied on the remnants of the Lunarians’ extraordinary adaptability and her exceptional intelligence to evade CP0’s searches three times.
She disguised herself as an ordinary fisherman.
She hid inside foul-smelling fish holds.
During storms, she even jumped overboard and swam toward another ship.
As long as it meant surviving, she was willing to pay any price.
When the merchant ship finally entered the waters of the East Blue, Xing saw his mother smile—or almost smile—for the first time.
“Once we reach the East Blue, we’ll find a small village and settle down.”
Yue leaned against the tiny porthole of the cargo hold, gazing at the blue sea outside.
“We can let Xing live like the other children.
“He can collect seashells on the beach, pick fruit from the trees, and play with the children next door…”
Xing leaned against his mother and imagined such a life.
A yearning smile appeared on his face.
He felt as though happiness was waiting for them just ahead.
But the cruelty of fate often lies in this:
It always seems to deliver its heaviest blow when you’re closest to happiness.
It was a clear afternoon.
The merchant ship was sailing peacefully across the calm sea.
Suddenly, the lookout cried out in terror.
“It’s… It’s a Celestial Dragon’s ship!”
The entire ship instantly descended into panic.
The captain’s face turned deathly pale as he ordered the ship to stop.
Every crew member and passenger scrambled to prostrate themselves upon the deck, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Yue pulled Xing tightly into her arms and hid with him in the shadows at the corner of the deck.
A luxurious white ship slowly approached.
The sails bore the symbol of the Celestial Dragons, representing the World Nobles.
Several Celestial Dragons dressed in extravagant clothing and wearing their characteristic bubble helmets boarded the merchant ship surrounded by Marines.
Their gazes swept across the people kneeling on the deck as though they were inspecting a group of lowly insects.
“These wretched commoners are such an eyesore.”
One of the Celestial Dragons spoke in a shrill voice.
His foot accidentally brushed against a crewman’s clothes, and he immediately kicked him away in disgust.
“Get away!
Don’t dirty my shoes!”
The crewman frantically kowtowed.
His forehead struck the deck with dull thuds.
Yue’s body trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
From rage.
She clenched her fists so tightly that her fingernails dug deep into her palms.
Mox could feel the stiffness of his mother’s body.
He looked up at her and saw that her expression was unusually resolute.
There was even a trace of finality in her eyes.
“Hey, you woman!”
One of the Celestial Dragons noticed Yue standing in the corner instead of kneeling.
He arrogantly pointed at her.
“Why aren’t you kneeling?”
Everyone nearby trembled in fear.
The captain’s face had gone completely ashen, and he frantically begged the Celestial Dragon for mercy.
“Please calm down, divine one!
She’s… she’s an idiot who doesn’t know any better!
I’ll make her kneel right now!”
Yue, however, straightened her back.
She slowly raised her head and looked directly at the Celestial Dragon.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried clearly across the entire deck.
“Beasts like you aren’t worthy of making me kneel.”
The words exploded across the deck like a bomb.
Everyone stared at Yue in horror, as though she had gone insane.
The Celestial Dragon froze.
Then he burst into furious, shrill laughter.
“Idiot?
Who the hell do you think you are?
You’re nothing but a filthy commoner who doesn’t know when to die!”
He raised the gun in his hand and aimed it at Yue.
“Mother!”
Xing cried out in terror.
Yue suddenly shoved Xing into an empty wooden barrel beside them.
With all her strength, she pushed the barrel toward the sea.
“Survive, Xing!”
Those were the last words she would ever say to her son.
Her voice was filled with absolute determination.
BANG!
The gunshot rang out.
The bullet passed directly through Yue’s heart.
She collapsed into a pool of blood.
Her body convulsed several times before her withered hands slowly opened, as though she wanted to embrace something one last time.
Then they fell limply to the deck.
“Mom—!”
Inside the barrel, Xing desperately pounded against the wooden boards.
Tears blurred his vision.
Through the cracks in the barrel, he watched helplessly as his mother fell into a pool of blood.
He watched the twisted smile on the Celestial Dragon’s face.
“Fire!”
The Celestial Dragon’s expression became vicious.
“Blow that barrel up too!”
The Marines immediately adjusted the cannon.
A cannonball tore through the air toward the barrel floating on the sea.
At that moment, Xing’s world completely collapsed.
His father’s name.
His mother’s sacrifice.
Thirteen years of hiding.
The pride of his people…
Everything exploded inside his mind, transforming into unbearable pain and fury.
He raised his face toward the sky and screamed, his voice hoarse with despair.
“If there really are gods!
“I’ll give up everything!
“Just let me burn these bastards to ash!”
“Even your life?”
A distant, ethereal voice echoed inside his mind.
It seemed to come from the deepest reaches of his bloodline, ancient and majestic.
“Even my life!”
Mox roared without hesitation.
His eyes were filled with madness capable of destroying heaven and earth.
BOOOOM!
Black flames suddenly erupted from inside the barrel.
The flames carried an eerie, icy temperature, yet possessed the power to burn everything to nothing.
The sturdy wooden barrel instantly turned to ash beneath the intense heat.
Mox floated in midair.
The black wings that had been sealed for thirteen years tore through his skin.
Fresh blood sprayed as the wings unfolded, blooming like flowers of death in the darkness.
Black flames wrapped around his body like living creatures.
Strange markings appeared within his eyes.
They were the marks of the Lunarian royal bloodline.
Now, however, they gleamed with the light of vengeance.
“I don’t care whether I die or not!”
He charged toward the Celestial Dragons.
His voice was hoarse from the depths of his hatred.
“But right now, you all have to die!”
Bullets flew toward him.
The instant they touched the black flames, they turned to ash.
Marine swords and blades struck at him, only to melt apart within the flames.
Xing’s fury ignited the entire merchant ship.
The flames spread like a tsunami, devouring those figures steeped in sin.
The Celestial Dragons screamed horribly within the flames.
Some were torn apart by the overwhelming force.
The status and power they had always taken pride in were utterly insignificant before the fury of the Lunarians.
When the final scream disappeared into the flames, the entire merchant ship had been reduced to ashes.
The flames surrounding Xing suddenly went out.
The wings on his back faded away like receding waves.
He fell helplessly like a leaf, landing upon a floating piece of wood.
“Mother… Father…”
He stared at the sea stained red with blood.
“I’m coming to be with you…”
A faint, liberated smile appeared on his face.
“In my next life… I’ll still be your son…”
He slowly closed his eyes.
His consciousness sank into endless darkness.
A gentle breeze swept past, seemingly carrying some mysterious power.
It drew his soul out of his cold body and pulled it into a void-like passage.
The passage was filled with white light.
Thirteen years of memories flashed before his eyes like fragments.
In the end, they were completely swallowed and stripped away by the white light.
…
Earth — the Blue Star
Inside a bright delivery room, the loud cry of a newborn shattered the silence.
A nurse held the newborn baby and happily handed him to a trembling man standing nearby.
“Congratulations!
It’s a healthy baby boy!”
The man carefully accepted the baby.
His movements were clumsy yet gentle.
The woman on the bed leaned weakly against the headboard, a blissful smile on her face.
“Honey, give our baby a name.”
The man gazed at the infant in his arms.
His eyes were filled with affection and hope.
The baby’s eyes were tightly shut, his tiny fists clenched as though he were holding the entire world.
“He’s the brightest star in my life.”
The man’s voice trembled with emotion.
“I hope he can be like a star too, using his faint light to guide those lost in darkness…”
He smiled.
“Let’s call him Mox.”
Meanwhile, in the world of pirates, only thirty seconds had passed.
At the end of that void-like passage, the soul of a man in his thirties slowly emerged.
His soul passed through the cold seawater before finally landing upon the floating wooden plank.
It merged into the unconscious body of the young man.
The sea breeze swept across the plank.
The young man’s fingers twitched slightly.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds and fell upon his pale face.
Mox had awakened.