Chapter 389: Magic Pattern Form
The power of the tyrannical king Andre far surpasses their own. How did he achieve such strength?
Beckman remains uncertain about the nature of the power within them. He can only speculate about its origins, its purpose, and the potential risks it carries.
To be honest, Beckman yearns to harness and amplify this power. The reason is straightforward: this is a force tied to the demons. Some even claim it is a domain of power directly linked to the devil himself.
This realization came after the cataclysmic battle between the two gods. The entire world felt different afterward, and since that moment, they found it easier to wield this mysterious power.
This power might be immensely potent, but its connection to that god-like figure makes it perilous. The two gods are now universally acknowledged as wielding the strength to annihilate the world if they so choose. Their mere clash unleashed catastrophic upheaval.
The unprecedented trio of colossal tornadoes that swept toward the distant horizon was visible to nearly the entire world. At the climax of their battle, they triggered disasters that ravaged the globe for days, causing immeasurable destruction.
It is difficult to fathom what would happen if they directed their power straight at the earth. No one wishes to witness such a catastrophe.
The danger was so great that Beckman wanted no association with the monstrous, terrifying power of a being like the Demon God. Yet, in the end, it was Shanks who persuaded him.
If the world is transforming in this way, then this power represents the future. Someone must step forward to explore it. And that person, Shanks declared, should be him, ready to dive into the madness alongside it.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Time dragged on slowly. As the battle grew fiercer, Andre's expression and aura turned increasingly frenzied.
"Hahaha, Red Hair! Unleash every ounce of power you have left! Make this fight even more thrilling!" Andre roared, his eyes wild with excitement.
Shanks, observing Andre's exhilarated state, furrowed his brow slightly. Andre was proving to be a formidable opponent. Though Shanks' Haki surpassed Andre's, Andre's unique ability, bolstered by that strange, otherworldly power, likely made him stronger overall.
Even more perplexing, despite Andre's blindness, he moved and fought as if unaffected. Had his senses of perception, sight, sound, and instinct, reached such an extraordinary level?
Shanks felt a twinge of confusion. In this moment, it was clear that determining a victor in this fight would not be simple. It seemed he had no choice but to resort to that form.
If he could activate that form, defeating Andre would be within reach, unless, of course, Andre had also mastered it. But judging by Andre's erratic, unstable demeanor, it seemed unlikely he could wield it.
Clang!
With a swift thought, Shanks unleashed a surge of power, forcing Andre back with a single slash of his blade. He gazed at Andre, who paused his assault, and spoke in a low but steady voice.
"If I can avoid it, I would prefer not to use this form. The sensation of entering it is… unpleasant."
Whoosh! Whoosh!
A wave of fear surged outward, a primal dread tied to something "holy." As Shanks spoke, a terrifying aura erupted from his body. The pirates aboard the ships along the coast felt as though they had plunged into an icy abyss. Fear welled up from deep within their hearts, draining the color from their faces and filling their eyes with terror.
Even the members of the Red Hair Pirates wore grave expressions. This power was not easily tamed, and wielding it took a heavy toll on both mind and body.
"Hahaha! This power! This is it!" Andre's wild laughter echoed across the battlefield.
Shanks had already begun to transform. Black lines appeared on his body, across his face, his arms, and presumably beneath his clothing as well.
"I call this the Magic Pattern Form," Shanks said, his gaze fixed on Andre, who had ceased his manic laughter. "These black lines on my body, I call them magic patterns."
He continued, his voice calm but resolute. "Perhaps one day, you too will master this form."
Andre's previously quiet expression split into a wide grin. "Black lines? Magic patterns? What a shame I cannot see them!" He paused, then tightened his grip, laughing under Shanks' wary stare. "But… I possess this power too!"
Boom!
Another wave of fear exploded outward, this time a dark, primal terror, the fear of the unknown night. The onlookers were struck with shock once more, overwhelmed by an instinctive dread. To them, Andre now seemed utterly terrifying.
"Hey! This guy can use that form too?!" Roux exclaimed, the large, meaty leg in his hand suddenly losing its appeal. He stared in astonishment at the black lines emerging on Andre's beastly, cold skin. He was filled with surprise and suspicion. If Andre could wield this state, why had he been so unstable earlier? Why had he appeared in shackles?
Was this a trick? No, that did not align with Andre's character. Was he simply trying to show off? Roux's mind spiraled as he watched the intense standoff unfolding on the coast.
On the other side, Higuma's calm demeanor shifted as his eyes gleamed. The black lines on both fighters' bodies signaled a dramatic increase in their power. This state clearly amplified their strength significantly, and such power naturally stirred envy in him.
Yet, one concern lingered: Andre's descent into near madness after gaining this power. If the side effects were so severe, Higuma had no desire to pursue it. For now, he needed to assess the stability of this power, and that required information from Shanks. He hoped the red-haired pirate would provide something useful.
How potent could this power, tied to demons and devils, truly be? If the risks were manageable, Higuma wanted to master it. The Seven Apostles of the Demon God had demonstrated unrivaled might, rendering today's pirates, even the Four Emperors, utterly outmatched. The Five Elders of the World Government had been left battered and broken, a pitiful sight.
If Higuma could attain such power at a reasonable cost, he was willing to take the chance. The mere thought of achieving the strength of a demon sent a thrill through his veins.
"I did not expect you to master this form," Shanks said, his voice tinged with surprise as he faced Andre.
"Hahaha! What a magnificent power! Come on! Let us fight!" Andre bellowed, ignoring the question. With a thunderous step, he launched himself forward, the ground splintering beneath his feet.
Shanks swallowed his unanswered questions and focused entirely on countering Andre's onslaught. The situation had grown even more dire.
In the Magic Pattern Form, the most notable enhancement was the tremendous boost to physical strength, far surpassing the untransformed state. Andre's power now significantly outstripped Shanks'.
The result was a shift in the battle's balance. What had been an even match now tilted in Andre's favor, even in the same Magic Pattern Form.
Clang!
A sharp, metallic ring echoed. Shanks raised his sword to block, but Andre's ferocious strike overwhelmed him, forcing him back half a step.
Crack! Crack!
The stone and earth beneath Shanks' feet fractured, and dust billowed into the air, stinging his nose and throat. This was only the beginning.
Andre seized the momentum, unleashing a relentless barrage of attacks like a raging storm. Shanks struggled under the crushing pressure.
For the moment, the red-haired Shanks was being pushed back, step by step.
( End of this Chapter )