Chapter 169: Shattering Sky Island's Sacred Trial!
Sora kept dropping one revelation after another, calmly laying out Ross's background without any need for exaggeration. Every word rang true—if Conis ever made it down to the Blue Sea, a few simple questions would confirm it all.
This ease came from Ross's unshakeable foundation. His personal strength, the forces under his command, and his lineage that let him overlook the entire world placed him at the pinnacle of the seas, unrivaled by any.
Just sharing these facts openly was enough to inspire awe and reverence in most folks, making them feel the gulf between themselves and his untouchable status.
By contrast, even kings like Judge and Cobra of their allied nations came off as downright ordinary. No real power, no real sway—just empty titles as "kings of member states" that they squandered without a second thought.
Anyone with real ambition would sooner topple them than bother negotiating.
Right now was a perfect example.
Conis stood frozen, utterly stunned by Sora's words, like she'd turned to stone. The wary glare she'd shot Ross earlier melted away, replaced by wide-eyed shock and a deep, involuntary respect.
Who could've guessed that this "invader" she'd feared was actually one of the Blue Sea's supreme rulers? A single stray spark of his power could probably flatten all of Skypiea without breaking a sweat.
That sparked a burning question in her mind: Why would someone like Ross bother with their isolated island? What could the White Sea possibly offer him?
"Now, about your earlier question," Sora said, as if she'd anticipated Conis's confusion. She jumped right in to clarify. "His Highness's vision is a world truly connected for all. Sure, the World Government has plenty of member nations, but there are countless non-affiliated countries still beyond its reach."
"Even among the members, too many kings chase their own agendas, ignoring orders from above."
"So... you're here in Skypiea to bring us under the World Government's rule?" Conis asked, her voice shaky with unease.
The revelations hit her like a storm. Their island floated high above the Blue Sea, cut off from everything below. No outsiders, no threats—just peaceful isolation.
Then Ross and his crew showed up out of nowhere, like a thunderbolt from the gods themselves. They stormed in, revealed their world-domination dreams, and demanded Skypiea join up. And when words failed, they let their fists do the talking until submission was the only option.
A flicker of resentment bubbled in Conis's chest. Why didn't you just say so from the start? If they'd known the truth upfront, the islanders might've surrendered without a fight—bowed low and welcomed them in.
But she shook her head with a wry smile. Deep down, she knew better. Without that display of overwhelming strength, the proud Sky Islanders—self-proclaimed "Kingdom of Gods"—would've never bent the knee to "Blue Sea mortals" so easily.
The Shandians, descendants of Blue Sea folk who'd crashed here four centuries back, were getting pummeled even now, barely holding onto their ancestral lands.
Conis figured if they ran into the island's god next, there'd be a clash too. No divine decree would change that without a clear show of superior might.
Angel Island lay just a short hop from Upper Yard—Upper Yard, as the locals called it. Gion gripped Conis by the collar like a scruffed kitten, while Ross carried Sora effortlessly. With their reluctant guide in tow, the group sliced through the clouds, one pair leading the way.
Upper Yard stretched out as a wild, untamed paradise—the chunk of ancient Gaya Island knocked skyward long ago. Dense jungle blanketed everything: colossal trees blotting the sun, tangled vines, knee-high weeds, and a thick, misty air humming with primal life.
"The gods' dwelling is up there!" Conis called out, pointing to the island's lofty heart, piercing the canopy like a crown.
To reach it, they'd have to hack through miles of that savage forest.
As they plunged in, Conis—dangling from Gion's hold—felt the rush of wind and instinctively huddled closer, but she kept narrating anyway. "Upper Yard popped up beside Angel Island four hundred years ago. The fierce Shandians lived there first, but the gods and their warriors drove them out deeper into the woods. The victors claimed the Upper Yard for themselves."
"They say this forest path is the 'Trial of the Gods.' Only those who make it through alive earn the god's blessing and join the Divine Soldiers."
Gion's face twisted in disbelief. "Your rules are nuts. Charging into enemy turf blind? That's a death wish."
She rolled her eyes, baffled by the logic.
Different islands bred different madness, but Gion spotted a trend: the more cut off from the world, the weirder the traditions—and the bloodier the toll.
Compared to the World Government's structured order, this felt downright barbaric. Like dealing with cavemen.
"It's the gods' will," Conis replied, lips pressed tight with quiet frustration. "We've followed it for generations, losing nearly a hundred warriors a year. All brave souls, honoring the old ways."
She'd questioned it before, but voicing doubts just branded you a coward. No one saw the needless waste—not even the current god, who'd never dared tweak a tradition baked into their history.
Before Ross's arrival, Conis had buried her unease, gaslighting herself into acceptance. But Gion's blunt take, paired with the knowing looks from Ross and Sora, cracked it wide open.
The trial wasn't divine wisdom. It was a slaughter.
And just because it'd always been that way didn't make it right.
---
Ross's group pressed deeper into the humid tangle, the air thick with bird calls and rustling leaves. Conis's words hung heavy, but the path ahead demanded focus. Vines snagged at their legs, and distant roars hinted at beasts lurking in the shadows.
Gion glanced at Ross. "These 'gods' sound more like tyrants hiding behind rituals. Think they'll put up a real fight?"
Ross smirked, his eyes scanning the canopy. "If they value their throne, they will. But strength speaks louder than prayers up here."
Sora nodded, her expression steady. "The Shandians won't stay down forever either. This island's got layers—history buried under all that 'divine' nonsense."
Conis swallowed hard, the weight of their words sinking in. For the first time, change felt possible. But first, they'd face whatever guarded that peak.
As the forest thinned, a massive ruin loomed ahead—crumbling stone etched with faded carvings. The true trial was just beginning.
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