"Cloud Candyyy...!" Dora roared, her voice booming with childlike glee as she launched herself into a massive, fluffy cloud of cotton candy. Despite its delicate and airy appearance, the cloud somehow held the weight of a giant as she belly-flopped onto it, sending a ripple through the sugary mass.
Lucci crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Dora, I don't think you're supposed to eat that..." His tone was as flat as ever, but there was a clear undertone of doubt as he watched her dig into the edible mountain with unmatched fervor.
Before he could finish his sentence, Dora had already buried her face in the cloud, her arms flailing as she stuffed chunk after chunk of cotton candy into her mouth. The sight was both impressive and slightly terrifying.
"It's alright, Lucci. Let her enjoy herself," I said, trying—and failing—not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "There's no way she can finish that entire thing, even as a giant. She'll get tired before she even makes a dent."
But as I spoke, I felt a twinge of doubt. Dora had proven time and again that her appetite was nothing short of legendary. After all, this was the same girl who had gorged herself on sweets during our escapades on Whole Cake Island without so much as a sugar crash.
The sheer amount of desserts she'd consumed there could've bankrupted any ordinary crew. Yet here she was, diving headfirst into an entirely new mountain of sugar like it was her life's mission.
"Master, this... thing," Lucci said, gesturing to the cotton candy monstrosity with a rare hint of exasperation, "might not even be safe for consumption. Who knows what's inside it?"
I waved off his concerns with a chuckle, plucking a small chunk of the cloud myself. "Relax, Lucci. It's just cotton candy. What could possibly—" I paused as the sugary fluff melted on my tongue. My eyes widened slightly. "Wow. Okay, that's actually really good."
No wonder Dora had fallen head over heels for this ridiculous sugar cloud. The flavor was unreal—sweet but not cloying, with a subtle hint of fruitiness that kept you coming back for more.
Meanwhile, Dora had reached a level of enthusiasm that could only be described as feral. "This is the BEST THING EVER!" she shouted through a mouthful of candy, her voice muffled but no less booming. Her face was a sticky mess, but the sheer joy radiating from her made it impossible not to smile.
Lucci pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly unimpressed. "This is going to end poorly. Mark my words. Either that thing is laced with something dangerous, or she's going to eat herself into a sugar coma."
"Oh, come on," I said, tossing another piece of cotton candy into my mouth. "Have a little faith in her. If there's one thing Dora excels at, it's eating."
Just then, a muffled rumble echoed from the massive cloud. Dora froze mid-bite, her eyes widening. "Wait... did the candy just... move?"
Lucci tensed immediately, his observation Haki flaring as he scanned the area. "Master, I knew it. That's not an ordinary cotton candy cloud. There's something alive in there!"
Before I could process his warning, the entire candy mass began to shift and quiver. Dora, undeterred, grabbed another fistful of fluff. "I don't care if it's alive! If it's this tasty, I'm eating it!"
"Dora, no!" Lucci barked, his voice uncharacteristically sharp.
Suddenly, the cotton candy erupted, sending sticky strands flying everywhere as a bizarre creature emerged from within. It was a massive, gelatinous blob, vaguely resembling a jellyfish, with tendrils of candy dangling from its body. Its translucent form shimmered in the sunlight, and its beady eyes glared at us with a mixture of annoyance and hunger.
"Uh... what the hell is that?" I asked, taking a cautious step forward as my observation haki scanned the creature half hidden beneath the cotton candy.
"Looks like you've been eating its home," Lucci deadpanned, his claws already extending as he prepared for a fight.
Dora, however, didn't seem fazed. In fact, she looked downright ecstatic. "A candy monster? BEST. DAY. EVER!"
Before any of us could stop her, she lunged at the creature with a battle cry, her mouth open wide for another bite. The candy monster squealed in alarm, its tendrils flailing as it tried to evade her sugar-fueled assault.
"Dora, stop!" I shouted, half-laughing despite the chaos. "You can't just eat everything you see!"
But Dora was already locked in a comically one-sided battle with the creature, her determination to consume it outweighing any concern for her safety.
Lucci sighed heavily, muttering something about the absurdity of it all as he moved to intervene.
"Master, if she ends up poisoned, I'm not dealing with it."
"Fair enough," I replied, shaking my head with a grin. "But let's admit it—this is kind of hilarious."
As the candy monster flailed and Dora cackled with glee, it was clear that this would be yet another tale to add to the ever-growing list of our crew's ridiculous adventures.
Just then, my senses prickled with the unmistakable presence of a large group rapidly approaching. Their movements were swift and practiced, as if they were one with the very clouds they traversed.
I turned my gaze skyward, where the wispy paths above shifted slightly, betraying their advance. The sound of faint war cries and rhythmic footsteps grew louder, each step deliberate and calculated.
"Shandorians..." I whispered, the realization settling in like a stone in my gut. These were the warriors of the sky, the defenders of their sacred land. And from the looks of it, they weren't here to parley.
The leader of the group—a broad-shouldered man adorned in vibrant tribal markings and feathers—raised his spear high, his booming voice echoing across the candy-filled landscape. "Bring down the monster that dares challenge the guardian!"
At his command, the Shandorian warriors shifted seamlessly into formation, their movements as fluid as water. They formed a tight perimeter around Dora and the candy monster, spears raised, bows drawn, and eyes fixed on their target with laser-like focus.
I noticed something unsettling in their demeanor—they didn't even glance in our direction. To them, Lucci and I were mere nuisances, like wayward clouds to be brushed aside. Their sole focus was on the "giant invader" who, in their eyes, was engaged in combat with their sacred guardian.
Dora, oblivious to the tension rising around her, had her hands buried in the candy monster's gelatinous form, still attempting to rip off another piece for her ever-hungry maw. The candy creature squealed and flailed its sticky tendrils in protest, trying in vain to fend off her relentless attacks.
"Lucci," I murmured, keeping my voice low and calm, "intimidate. Do not kill them."
Lucci's golden eyes glinted with understanding, though he seemed far from pleased. "A non-lethal approach? You're getting soft, Master," he muttered, but he moved into action nonetheless.
The moment Lucci stepped forward, the air shifted. His very presence seemed to ripple through the battlefield like an unseen wave. With a single deliberate stride, he planted himself between the Shandorians and Dora, his arms crossed and his dragon tail swaying ominously behind him.
One of the Shandorian warriors faltered for a split second, his spear lowering slightly as his instincts screamed danger. But their leader barked an order, snapping the formation back into focus.
"Stand firm! Do not falter before these interlopers! The guardian must be protected!"
Lucci tilted his head ever so slightly, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. Then, in an instant, his killing intent flared—sharp, suffocating, and unmistakable. Though restrained enough not to harm, it was potent enough to make the air feel heavier, as if the clouds themselves were bowing under the pressure.
Several Shandorians staggered, their breaths hitching as sweat beaded on their foreheads. One of the younger warriors dropped his spear entirely, clutching at his chest as if trying to steady his pounding heart.
"You've already lost this fight, even if I don't raise a claw," Lucci said, his voice low and menacing. "Step back, or I'll make sure you regret it."
The leader of the Shandorians snarled, his grip tightening around his spear as he glared at Lucci. "You dare threaten the warriors of Shandora? This land does not tolerate outsiders!"
I stepped forward then, raising a hand to diffuse the situation before it escalated. "Wait," I said firmly, my tone cutting through the tension. "We're not your enemies."
The Shandorian leader's gaze flicked toward me, suspicion etched deeply into his features. "You travel with the giant that threatens our guardian. Explain yourselves, or face the consequences."
"Threatens?" I almost laughed, gesturing toward Dora, who was now attempting to shove an entire chunk of the candy monster into her mouth. "That 'giant' isn't threatening anyone. She's just hungry. In fact, I'd argue your guardian attacked her first."
The leader's eyes narrowed, but a flicker of doubt passed through his expression as he looked toward Dora's chaotic yet harmless antics. Even the candy monster, though flailing wildly, didn't appear to be in mortal peril—more annoyed than anything else.
"She's eating your guardian because it looks like food," I added, shrugging. "And let's be honest, it does look delicious."
A tense silence hung in the air as the Shandorian warriors exchanged uncertain glances. The absurdity of the situation seemed to be dawning on them, though their leader remained unconvinced.
"Dora!" I called out, my voice breaking through the standoff. "Can you stop eating the poor thing for five seconds and tell them you're not here to fight?"
Dora finally paused, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk's, and turned toward us. She tilted her head, confused, before swallowing loudly. "Huh? Fight? I'm not fighting—I'm snacking!"
Lucci groaned audibly, rubbing his temples. "Master, our giantess is not helping your case."
But her words had done enough. The Shandorian leader's tense posture tightened slightly, though he still held his spear at the ready. "You claim to mean no harm," he said cautiously, "but outsiders are rarely welcome here. We do not have time for your nonsense, so leave, and quickly."
"We're travelers," I said simply, meeting his gaze with calm confidence. "Not invaders, not enemies. Let us pass without incident, and we'll leave yourselves and your tribe unharmed."
"You... bastards! You dare threaten our guardian and then refuse our mercy? Who do you think you are, outsider?" One of the Shandian warriors roared, his voice a mixture of defiance and desperation.
The moment his words left his lips, the entire atmosphere shifted. It was as if the very air around us became denser, suffused with an ancient, primal energy that sent chills down my spine.
Lucci, who had been standing calm and composed moments ago, now exuded a menacing aura that was anything but human. His golden eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto the offending warrior with an intensity that made even my heart skip a beat.
"You shouldn't have said that," I murmured under my breath, already bracing for what was to come.
Lucci's demeanor transformed entirely. His body straightened, and the restrained power he usually kept hidden began to pour out in waves. The sky seemed to darken as if acknowledging the presence of something ancient and deadly. The Shandians, once resolute, faltered. Their weapons trembled in their hands as they instinctively took cautious steps back.
And then it happened.
Lucci's body began to change. The air around him shimmered as his figure distorted, elongating and growing at an impossible rate. His silhouette darkened as crimson scales, each glistening like polished rubies, erupted across his body. His limbs extended and melded into massive, coiled muscles, his fingers morphing into talons that glinted with a razor-sharp edge.
The transformation was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. His once-human frame had disappeared, replaced by a colossal serpentine form that now towered above the battlefield.
When his complete form unfurled, they stretched long and wide enough to blot out the sun, casting the Shandians into a shadow so vast it felt as if night had fallen prematurely.
Each part was a masterpiece of nature—scaled and ridged, with veins of molten gold running through them like rivers of fire. His head rose high above, crowned with jagged crimson horns that seemed to reach for the heavens.
Smoke curled from his nostrils, and his jaws, filled with glinting fangs the size of spears, opened slightly to emit a low, guttural growl that made the earth tremble.
"A dragon..." one of the Shandian warriors whispered, his voice barely audible over the stunned silence of his comrades. His knees buckled as he pointed a shaking hand toward the sky. "It's a dragon from the legends..."
The words spread through the group like wildfire, each warrior repeating them in hushed, reverent tones.
The crimson dragon, now fully formed, hovered effortlessly in the air, its coiled body moving with a grace that belied its massive size. Its presence was overwhelming, radiating an aura of raw, unrestrained power that made even the sky itself seem smaller.
"This can't be real..." one warrior muttered, his voice trembling. "It's... it's even larger than the Master of the Sky!"
Another, less fortunate warrior dropped his spear, falling to his knees as he stared up at the dragon in pure terror. "This isn't just a dragon... this is something far beyond. This is... judgment."
Lucci's deep, rumbling voice emanated from the massive beast, echoing through the clouds like a rolling thunderstorm. "You dared to insult my master... and you think yourselves worthy of mercy? Tell me, who are you to demand anything?"
The Shandians were frozen in place, their bravado shattered as the realization of what they had provoked sank in. Even their leader, the stalwart warrior who had shouted orders just moments ago, stood rooted to the spot, his spear lowering as his eyes widened in disbelief.
The dragon's tail, lined with jagged, armored spikes, whipped through the air with a sound like a thunderclap, sending a gust of wind so powerful it knocked several warriors off their feet. The sheer force of his presence made it clear—Lucci was in complete control of the battlefield now.
As the crimson beast descended slightly, his massive head lowered until it was just above the Shandians, his molten gold eyes scanning their trembling forms. The heat emanating from his body was palpable, a reminder of the flames he could unleash at a moment's notice.
"Do you see now?" Lucci growled, his voice a terrifying mix of rage and authority. "Your guardian is nothing compared to me. But I'll give you a chance—leave now, and I may consider sparing your lives, for my master's sake."
The Shandians exchanged frantic glances, their once-unshakable resolve crumbling under the weight of their fear. The leader opened his mouth to speak but faltered, words escaping him as he stared into the dragon's piercing gaze.
"Lucci," I said softly, breaking the silence. My voice carried enough calm to draw his attention without undermining his dominance. "That's enough. They've seen their folly. Let them go."
The dragon's massive head turned toward me, and for a moment, I thought he might ignore my words. But then, with a sharp exhale that sent plumes of smoke into the sky, he relented. Slowly, his colossal form began to shrink, the crimson scales fading as his body reverted to its human shape.
When the transformation was complete, Lucci stood where he had been before, his golden eyes still glowing faintly with residual power. He crossed his arms, looking as composed as ever, though the Shandians now regarded him with a mix of fear and awe.
"Leave," Lucci said coldly, his voice carrying the same weight as before, though now without the monstrous resonance.
The Shandians needed no further encouragement. Their leader gestured for a retreat, and they quickly scattered, their footsteps fading into the distance as they fled back toward their homeland.
As the last of the Shandians disappeared into the swirling mists of the clouds, leaving their poor guardian defenseless and forgotten, Lucci turned to me, his expression sharp with restrained frustration.
"Why did you stop me, Master?" he asked, his voice edged with disappointment. "I could have slaughtered them all."
Before I could reply, a raspy voice interrupted from his shoulder. Hattori, ever the bloodthirsty accomplice, squawked in agreement. "Kill them all! Kill them all!"
I chuckled at the irony of such a violent spirit residing within that seemingly harmless pigeon. "Hattori," I said with a grin, "you're as bloodthirsty as your master."
Turning back to Lucci, I shook my head. "Patience, Lucci. The Shandians are not just a tribe of warriors—they're survivors. Even now, they'll regroup, rearm, and try to bring you down. Their cunning matches their bravery, and warfare flows through their veins as naturally as the wind carries these clouds." I paused, letting the weight of my words settle.
"Besides, do you remember the plan? I want to cultivate a secret force on this island, a hidden force for the Donquixote family. And it just so happens that the Shandians are the perfect candidates."
Lucci crossed his arms, the faintest trace of doubt flickering in his eyes. "But Master, will they follow us? From what you've told me, they sound like stubborn folk. Warriors like them don't bow easily."
A smirk tugged at my lips. "You're right—they won't bow, not immediately. But the Shandians revere strength above all else. If we fulfill the right conditions, they'll follow. For now, we've made our point. And to take the next step…"
I trailed off, turning my gaze deliberately to a specific spot high above the battlefield. My observation haki had already locked onto the presence hidden in the clouds. "...it's time we had a chat with the old man who's been watching us."
Far above, concealed within a wispy veil of clouds, Gan Fall—the God of Skypiea—watched the scene below with an intensity that belied his years. His weathered face, framed by a thick white mustache and beard, was set in a grim frown as he surveyed the aftermath of the confrontation.
Seated atop Pierre, his faithful steed, a peculiar bird-horse hybrid with majestic wings, Gan Fall gripped his lance tightly.
He had been drawn here by the commotion—a massive crimson shadow blotting out the sky, the terrified retreat of the proud Shandian warriors, and the destruction wrought in the blink of an eye. As the God of Skypiea, it was his sworn duty to protect its people from any threat. But what he witnessed below sent a chill down his spine.
The Shandians, a tribe that had resisted the mighty armies of the sky people itself, had retreated before a boy barely in his teens. That same boy, standing amidst the wreckage with an air of calculated control, had not even lifted a weapon.
And then there was the giantess, utterly unbothered, gnawing at the remains of the Shandian guardian monster as if it were an afternoon snack.
"This isn't normal," Gan Fall muttered under his breath. His eyes narrowed, his instincts screaming that these weren't ordinary invaders. They were something far more dangerous.
He adjusted his grip on his lance and nudged Pierre forward for a better vantage point. The creature flapped its wings steadily, carrying them higher into the clouds. But as Gan Fall attempted to remain hidden, the young man who seemed to be the leader of the group below suddenly turned his head upward.
Gan Fall froze. Those sharp, calculating eyes locked directly onto his position with a precision that was impossible at this distance. It was as if the young man had known all along that he was there, watching.
"Pierre... go. Now!" Gan Fall barked, his voice steady despite the uneasy knot forming in his chest.
Pierre squawked in understanding and took off with a powerful beat of his wings, streaking through the clouds like an arrow. But no matter how fast they flew, Gan Fall couldn't shake the feeling that the young man below still had him in his sights.
I watched with a faint smile as the old man, realizing he'd been spotted, ordered a hasty retreat.
"Interesting," I murmured. "The so-called 'God of Skypiea'—watching, waiting, hiding. Yet when discovered, he flees."
Lucci, standing at my side, spoke coldly. "Should I pursue him, Master? He's of no consequence."
I shook my head, amusement flickering across my face. "No, Lucci. We need him alive. A guide is far more useful than a corpse, and there's no one on this island who knows its secrets better than Gan Fall. Besides…" I glanced upward, my smirk widening. "He's headed exactly where I wanted him to go."
Lucci frowned but didn't press the issue. Hattori, still perched on his shoulder, let out a low, disappointed coo.
"Patience," I repeated, my tone almost playful now. "We'll catch up with the 'God' soon enough."
As the winds carried the faint echo of Pierre's wings into the distance, I turned back to Dora, who had seemingly been oblivious to the entire exchange. She was still wrestling with what remained of the Shandian guardian, her face smeared with jelly.
"Dora," I called out, shaking my head with a sigh. "Finish up. We have a god to meet."
She looked up, blinking in surprise. "Wait, we're meeting a god? Does he have more food?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Dora, you'll find out soon enough."