"Uncle, what's happening?"
The moment Yamato stepped out of the lighthouse, she found Crocus staring at the sea with a look of genuine alarm.
"It's Laboon," the old doctor said, his voice strained. "He's hitting the Red Line again. I don't have time to explain—I need to get inside his body and administer a sedative. I need you to distract him. Just for a moment."
"Distract him..."
Yamato glanced at the restless behemoth. She didn't hesitate. She lunged forward, jumping high into the spray. Red and black lightning—the jagged, violent spark of the Color of the Supreme King—began to coil around the head of her mace.
"Thunder Gossip!"
It was her signature move. A classic, heavy-handed strike. Against any ordinary sea beast, the blow would have been a terminal sentence.
But Laboon was different. Decades of slamming his forehead into the iron-hard Red Line had tempered his skull into something approaching indestructible. He took the strike head-on. The impact rang out like a bell, but the whale remained conscious.
He was stunned, his movements halting as the shockwave rattled his massive frame. That was all Crocus needed. The old man dove, disappearing into the whale's gaping maw.
A few minutes later, the sedative took hold. Laboon's struggles grew sluggish, his mournful wails fading into a heavy, peaceful sleep.
...
Crocus emerged from the whale's blowhole, drenched and exhausted. He climbed down to the shore and began inspecting the fresh, bloody gouges on Laboon's head.
"I asked for a distraction," Crocus grumbled, looking at the blood oozing from the whale's forehead. "You went a little far, didn't you?"
"Sorry," Yamato said, scratching the back of her head with a sheepish grin. "I haven't had a real fight in a while. I forgot how to hold back. Besides... I thought a guy that big would be tougher."
Crocus sighed. He looked at the girl, then at the silent Ornn. He couldn't really blame her; anyone's first instinct when facing an island-sized whale would be to strike with everything they had.
"Young people today," he muttered. "Everyone is a monster."
As he began to prepare bandages, Crocus started to talk. He told them the story of the Rumbar Pirates. The promise made fifty years ago. The wait that had turned into a half-century of self-mutilation and grief.
Ornn knew the story well, but hearing it from the man who had lived through it still carried a somber weight. Yamato, however, was already a mess. She was moved to tears, her heart breaking for the noble creature.
"Laboon is so pitiful," she sobbed, turning to Ornn with pleading eyes. "Ornn, please. We have to help him."
Ornn looked at those eyes—rare, vulnerable, and completely sincere—and knew he was defeated.
"Fine, fine," he muttered. "I'm a pushover, I get it."
Ornn reached into his coat and summoned a piece of equipment.
[King of Beasts — Lion King]
He signaled Crocus to step aside, then pressed the legendary breastplate against the whale's scarred forehead.
The moment the equipment touched the skin, the impossible happened.
Yellow fur began to sprout across Laboon's smooth hide, visible to the naked eye. A pair of tufted cat ears emerged from the top of his head. The massive whale was undergoing a forced, partial transformation.
A lion-whale.
Crocus and Yamato stared, their mouths hanging open. But the transformation was only the beginning.
As Laboon took on the traits of the lion, the bloody scars on his head stopped leaking. The jagged, broken flesh began to knit itself back together at a visible speed. Five seconds. Ten. A minute.
After three minutes, the fresh gouge from Yamato's strike was gone. The skin beneath was pale and new. And it didn't stop there. The old, deep-seated calluses and scars from decades of collisions began to smooth over, the Lion King's unique trait—The Lion Never Dies—working its miracle.
"This..." Crocus nearly bit his tongue. "This is a miracle. How? It's just a belt."
To a doctor, even the greatest treasure on Laugh Tale couldn't compare to the healing power of that artifact.
"It's... part of my fruit ability," Ornn said, keeping his explanation vague. He wasn't ready to share the secret of the Illustrated Book.
"An amazing ability," Crocus breathed.
Yamato was staring at Ornn with eyes brighter than the stars. She knew the Lion King could heal, but she hadn't realized the effect could be projected with such overwhelming efficiency.
Her mind immediately went to her mace. Ajian was a good weapon, but it was plain. It looked too much like her father's. She wanted something unique. Something that didn't remind the world of the 'bastard bull-headed gorilla.'
Ornn caught the look in her eyes. He gave her a sharp, silent glance—Not now. Wait until we reach the Blue Seas. ...
The healed Laboon stayed near the lighthouse for another two days, seemingly more peaceful than he had been in years. Finally, the day of the reverse current arrived.
The sky over the Twin Capes turned a bruised, oppressive gray before dawn. By nine in the morning, the wind began to howl. Within half an hour, the weak sea breeze had transformed into a violent, icy gale.
Dark clouds raced across the sky, mirrored by the churning water below. Thunder shook the lighthouse. Rain fell in sheets.
In this doomsday atmosphere, small whirlpools began to form. They grew with terrifying speed, merging until a massive, singular vortex—hundreds of meters wide—opened in the sea.
The vortex acted like a bottomless drain, pulling the ocean inward. And then, Ornn and Yamato saw a sight they would never forget.
The current of Reverse Mountain had stopped.
"Now!" Crocus screamed over the roar of the storm. "Get on the boat! Drive into the center of the vortex! It will carry you through to the other side!"
Ornn grabbed the rudder. Yamato stood at the prow, her face set with grim determination.
The current took them. The world turned into a blurred rush of white water and red stone.
The Blue Seas were waiting.