Chapter 170: Shandian Firepower Fizzles
Ross and his crew pushed through the thick underbrush of the forest when a rustle erupted ahead. Dozens of figures burst from the shadows, blocking their path. These warriors wore ragged animal hides that barely covered their bronzed, muscled frames, screaming wild and untamed. Yet they clutched pistols and cannon barrels—gear that clashed with their savage vibe.
"Shandians," Conis whispered, her voice tight with dread.
She knew them all too well. For nearly four centuries, her people—the Sky Islanders—had warred with these invaders, spilling rivers of blood over this land. Even now, with wings grafted from fallen foes, the Shandians pressed their claim on Upper Yard, the ancient forest that birthed Skypiea's endless feuds.
"A Blue Sea dweller?" growled their leader, a hulking brute with a wild mohawk and war paint smeared across his face. He hefted a heavy iron cannon onto his shoulder, its muzzle locked on Ross like a predator's glare.
"Or some Blue Sea scum cozying up to Sky Islanders?"
The mohawk warrior's eyes narrowed. Ross's group screamed outsider—clean clothes, no wings—except for Conis, her delicate feathers marking her as one of Enel's flock. But Ross and Gion didn't flinch. They barely paused, their faces cool as sea glass. To them, this pack of painted threats was just background noise, ants underfoot.
Ross had sensed them a kilometer out, Observation Haki picking up their stomping hearts like drumbeats. He'd dragged Conis here for this exact showdown. Words alone—promises of peace or threats of thunder—meant squat without a show of strength. The weakling guards back at the temple? Useless props. He needed to shatter her blind faith in "gods" and etch his own legend into her soul.
These Shandians, and even Skypiea's so-called deity, were just stages for his performance.
"Lord Gion, aren't you stepping in?" Conis stammered, her face draining white. A dozen Burn Bazookas and Flash Dials zeroed in on them, their barrels hungry for payback. One blast from those Sky Island specials—fireballs or blinding bolts—could turn her to ash.
Gion just shrugged. "Not my fight yet."
She knew Ross's game. No point stealing his spotlight.
"Eh?" Conis blinked, lost, then whipped her gaze to Ross.
He wasn't even watching the Shandians. No tension in his shoulders, no glance at the muzzles. He strolled like he owned the place, footfalls silent on nothing—Geppo carrying him mid-air, step by effortless step. His sharp features and that subtle, crushing presence would've made her swoon, if not for the memory of him snapping Pagaya's neck without a blink. Fear won out, knotting her gut.
"Blue Sea rat! Halt!" the mohawk leader bellowed, cannon steady. Even he clocked the air-walking trick—no lowlife pulled that off.
But this was Shandian turf. No outsiders, especially not with Sky Island tags.
"Take another step, and we light you up!"
Ross ignored him flat-out, gliding forward like the warriors were ghosts.
The leader's face twisted in fury. "You deaf? Last warning!"
No dice. Ross kept on, cradling a small bundle in one arm—Sora, the wide-eyed kid they'd picked up earlier—and tossed over his shoulder to Gion, "Keep moving. No point wasting breath on these clowns."
He hadn't spared the Shandians a single look, treating their rage like sea spray.
"Aye," Gion replied, matching his stride, boots crunching leaves as they delved deeper into the woods.
"You arrogant Blue Sea bastards!" the leader snarled. Their contempt lit the fuse.
Eyes blazing, he yanked the trigger. A blue fireball streaked from the Burn Bazooka, scorching the air toward Ross's back.
BOOM!
The blast ripped through the forest, flames roaring like a beast unchained. Trees ignited, branches shattering in the shockwave.
Every Shandian—and Conis—watched, breaths held.
But the kill shot? It never landed.
The fireball halted inches from Ross, slamming an invisible wall—Armament Haki, hard as diamond. It shattered into harmless sparks, fizzling out like a dud firework. Nearby trunks blazed and toppled, but Ross? Untouched. He didn't break stride, his white World Government cloak billowing in the backdraft like a victory flag.
The Shandians froze, jaws slack. Conis's eyes widened, her faith cracking just a little more.
Ross pressed on, the forest swallowing him whole. The "warriors" were already footnotes in his legend.
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