"He's truly powerful… It seems he possesses a rather special kind of Devil Fruit ability. The weather itself serves as an enormous blessing to him."
"No wonder he made such a proposal—there really is great necessity behind it."
Bode muttered to himself, surrounded by a group of Weather Scholars from Weatheria, all observing the situation.
"Is it really wise to entrust the power of weather to someone like him?"
One scholar couldn't help but question. "I wanted to bring this up when we were summoned back. I saw his wanted poster once in the Blue Sea—'Demon Ren,' with a bounty of 270 million Beli. A man standing against the World Government, feared across the world."
"The World Government doesn't necessarily mean absolute justice," Bode replied calmly. "That young man said something very true—he never considered himself a pirate. He's merely been branded as one, burdened with a label and a stereotype."
"I still remain cautious."
"Bartholomew Kuma trusts him."
"...Then that's enough."
The scholar finally understood. Though not a policymaker—just a researcher recently returned—he had met that man of pure-hearted kindness before. Even if somewhat old-fashioned and rigid, bound by his past, there was no denying that he was, in truth, a good person.
In this world, very few could remain good after gaining such immense power.
"Let's go. It's time to meet our collaborator."
Bode ended the conversation and led the Weather Scholars away. Next came the matter of defining the scope of what Ren wanted.
Weatheria's meteorology was a vast field, with hundreds of sub-branches—rainfall, wind, temperature regulation, and more.
What Ren wanted, however, fell under just two categories.
"Drizzle, thunderstorms, and thunderclouds. That's roughly the range I'm after."
Ren maintained the professionalism expected of a client, not nitpicking excessively. He simply laid out the general direction he wanted, hoping to expand the scale as much as possible.
However—
"There's a problem," Haredas said. "You still haven't provided complete data on the vessel's framework. Installing machinery of this kind is very complex, especially at the massive scale you're requesting. Without precise measurements, we can't predict how many devices will be needed, nor how they'll function properly."
"That's true. But at the moment, I can't give you any precise data. The ship I'm talking about is in Skypiea."
Ren shrugged, offering no attempt to conceal the truth.
"The Skypiea? Enel's domain?" Haredas was momentarily stunned.
"You're familiar with him?"
Ren thought of the Sky Pirate leaders he'd met before—Enel's reputation on the Sky Islands was clearly immense.
"The Logia-type Rumble-Rumble Fruit user," Haredas sighed. "For Weather Scholars, his ability is of great research value. Unfortunately, that man is a true-born god of the sky—arrogant to the extreme. Apart from the other Sky Gods, he looks down on everything. His cruelty knows no bounds—he doesn't even spare women among his enemies."
"And for reasons unknown, he destroyed his own homeland—Birka. Later he went to the Skypiea and made himself its god, turning it into a forbidden zone."
"Forbidden zone?" It was Nami who spoke, leaning against Ren with curiosity. "What do you mean?"
"It means a place forbidden to the living."
Seeing that Nami was the one asking, Haredas' tone softened as he explained, "Enel is a god who delights in self-gratification. In Skypiea, he enforces a set of special laws. Simply put, any outsider who enters will, through various traps or the guidance of locals, end up in so-called trial grounds—becoming Enel's amusement. Almost no one survives. The stories have spread widely through the Sky Islands. Most Sky Islanders dare not approach that place; only a few unlucky Blue Sea dwellers end up there by accident."
"And most importantly—Enel is truly powerful. It's said he destroyed his homeland using his own lightning. He is lightning itself. As a Logia user of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, we've gathered intelligence that he can move at lightning speed through conductive materials and the air itself, directly attacking with electric discharge. He can generate electricity to power machines, use its heat to create immense temperatures, or stimulate storm clouds to direct lightning strikes where he wills. Lightning is an extension of his very body."
"Then… it's going to be troublesome, isn't it?" Nami couldn't help glancing at Ren. After all, his most commonly used power was also lightning.
"I'd say dangerous rather than troublesome," Haredas corrected gravely. "Ren, are you truly confident in defeating Enel? If it's purely a contest of lightning, you'll be utterly overwhelmed. To put it bluntly—Enel is the God of Thunder!"
"Everything depends on effort." Ren lifted his hand calmly. A dark metallic sheen crept over his fingers, the surface of his skin cloaked in faint violet flame.
"Haki?"
"One part of it," Ren replied.
"I see…" Haredas nodded, thoughtful. "Weatheria can provide you with some technological support—as a little bonus, consider it."
"Oh? What kind?"
"Something to insulate against lightning. Small devices, disposable, but they won't last long—they're consumables."
"Much appreciated."Ren sat upright and thanked him earnestly.
"If you really manage to defeat Enel, that would actually be a blessing," Haredas said with a wry smile. "Though Weatheria doesn't meddle in worldly affairs, we're still part of the Sky Islands. If that lunatic decides to destroy another island and move again, we wouldn't take it lightly."
"He's already on the path to destruction," Ren replied with a faint smile.
Weatheria's so-called technical support turned out to be lightweight, flexible insulating coats that acted like outer garments—rubber-based lightning-proof suits capable of withstanding electrical strikes to a certain degree, though not infinitely.
For example, at two hundred million volts, they might endure a strike or two before failing; the lower the voltage, the more protection they offered.
After all, while rubber insulates electricity, lightning also brings devastating heat. At instantaneous temperatures starting from ten thousand degrees, even rubber can't remain intact.
This confirmed one thing—Luffy's immunity to Enel's lightning likely stemmed from Nika's divine nature, not mere physics.
Each crew member received a lightning-proof suit, along with a few lightning rods and other protective gear—thorough preparation indeed.
After all, Enel was not to be underestimated.
Still, Ren wasn't entering unprepared. If all else failed, he could always rely on Karasu. Ultimately, for Robin's group to reach the Poneglyph, they'd have to face Enel first. Their goals aligned.
Even so, Ren wished to defeat Enel himself—to test his own growth.
Just like now.
Aboard the Enlightenment, Ren sat cross-legged on the third-deck balcony, watching the violet flames flicker around his fingers—his Purple Qi Rising from the East.Within the flame glimmered the black gleam of Armament Haki.
After investing billions into his potential, his talent was finally showing—he'd reached the entry stage of Armament Haki. Though still limited to surface coating, he had already brushed against the threshold of infusion.
Zoro, being at that level himself, naturally offered occasional guidance. But unexpectedly, Ren noticed Qi and Haki blending more and more deeply within him.
The outer layer burned with violet flame, the inner with black metallic light—the two merging into a strange purple-black hue, a sign of harmonious fusion.
Purple Qi Rising from the East was a continental cultivation method renowned for its adaptability—often serving as a foundation for other arts. That it merged with Haki wasn't surprising.
Through his Qi Foundation Network, Ren could feel the two energies—different branches of the same origin—integrating together.
The fusion was stable, progressing rapidly under his careful control, showing no signs of conflict. Soon, there might be no distinction between Qi and Haki—only Haki as a unified whole.
And the benefits were immense.
The Qi system from Assassin Wu Liuqi followed a steady, spiraling path of growth, while Haki improved through usage—battle, exertion, and recovery. By merging them, Ren now advanced on both fronts simultaneously.
He could enhance Haki's quality and quantity through training, and also by recovering from depletion. Compared to other Haki users, he had an extra reservoir to draw from—progress came faster, breakthroughs easier.
Still, the benefits were long-term. In the short run, not much would change.
To deal with Enel, I'll need to rely on the unexpected—Seastone weapons, Swallowing Rivers and Flooding Lakes, and Armament Haki. Yes… that should be enough.
Extinguishing the violet flame, Ren rose and headed to the training deck below.
There, his Observation Haki practice awaited.
In the vast training hall, twenty-four Iron Knights stood in a ring formation.
A blindfold covered Ren's eyes, suppressing even his Spider-Sense ability, leaving him in a completely ordinary state.
Whirr!
Gears spun—the door-sized greatswords of the knights swung down in unison!
Whoosh!
Ren twisted at the waist, dodging the first strike just in time.Then two more Iron Knights moved—their blades crossing in a ruthless double slash. The slicing wind roared.
The aura…
Ren's ears twitched; his skin caught faint disturbances in the air. With his sight sealed, the world sank into darkness. Every supernatural sense was self-restricted.
All he had left was instinct—the nascent potential of Observation Haki.
In that darkness, nothing existed but faint traces formed by merging sensations—the flow of air, the omen of strikes.
Ren pushed off, dodging again. Two blades carved deep gouges into the metal floor where he'd just stood.
Moments later, four Iron Knights attacked, their slashes sealing every escape path. Sidestep, twist, spin, roll—he avoided all four in sequence.
Then eight moved. Steam hissed, gears clanked, and eight blades cut through the air in near-perfect rhythm. Ren darted through them like a butterfly among blades, evading seven strikes—but the eighth landed.
Steel bit into flesh. Blood spattered. A chunk of meat hit the floor. Ren collapsed, motionless in a pool of his own blood.
The knights halted. Crimson droplets dripped from their swords, joining hundreds of stains already marring the training floor.
After ten long minutes, Ren stirred again, climbing to his feet—silent, wordless—resuming his training.
And then again.
He didn't always make it to the eighth strike. Sometimes less, sometimes more. Each failure brought pain—the sharp, undeniable pain of steel cutting skin.
But—never once did he stop halfway.
Strength without effort was meaningless. No true powerhouse had ever risen without paying a price in blood and pain.
To gain power, one must endure the suffering that forges it.
That was Ren's creed.
In truth, though, even Zoro couldn't train like this—self-wounding to such an extent.Even the toughest body had limits. Without his passive Breath of Recovery, this would be suicide.
Most people, even with regeneration, would never subject themselves to such torment just for faster progress.
But the results were undeniable. Pain is the body's ultimate survival alarm; it triggers instincts at their peak. Adrenaline was one byproduct—heightened perception another.
Observation Haki grew under such extreme stimulation, as life itself fought to evade death.
Gradually, Ren's errors diminished. The genius of someone who had spent billions in potential was terrifying—his aptitude surpassed ordinary limits.
He was already close to being called a Haki prodigy.
He could sense it now—he was just one spark away from true mastery of Observation Haki.
And so he trained harder.
Meanwhile, Enlightenment departed Weatheria under Urouge's guidance, sailing toward Skypiea.
To reach it, they would travel along Cloud Roads—man-made pathways formed of island-cloud materials. These weren't natural formations but ancient constructs, built long ago by the Moon People—further evidence of their existence.
Along the way, several Sky Pirates tried to attack the ship's second deck where Vearth was stored—but all were effortlessly defeated by the Angels of Glory.
With Weatheria's help, their numbers had grown to five hundred. Aside from limited iron output and incomplete gear sets, their army had reached a peak state.
They even began sparring voluntarily with Zoro and others, hungry for growth. These newly born "children," barely a month old, brimmed with curiosity.
Ren even discovered that within their psychic network, they were compiling and sharing swordsmanship experience—something both incredible and expected from the Red Queen Core that governed them.
"Perhaps one day, each Angel of Glory could fight at Zoro's level," Ren mused as he stepped out of the shower, steam curling off his skin.
A flicker of flame dried him instantly. He glanced in the mirror—across his chest ran a fresh scab from his latest Observation training, deep enough that even he had been forced to pause.
But with Breath of Recovery, it was of little concern.
Passing by the training chamber, he caught a glimpse of Vivi inside, wearing a helmet—currently enduring Crocodile's torment.
The two were well-matched in temperament: Vivi couldn't stand Crocodile, and he relished using her as an outlet for frustration. Ren didn't interfere. The harsher Crocodile's methods, the more Vivi would learn—and she accepted that with resolve.
When Ren entered his room, a beautiful woman was already lying on the large red-and-white bed.Not Nami—but Nojiko.
She was reading a cookbook intently, dressed in a loose T-shirt that did little to conceal her curves. If not for its baggy fit, her soft midriff would've been revealed.
Below, her denim shorts outlined a perfectly shaped figure, her long legs crossing casually atop the bed, her small feet swaying lazily—an image of quiet allure.
In truth, Nojiko was every bit as beautiful as Nami, exuding a mature charm—a graceful, elegant sensuality that contrasted Nami's playful, teasing style.
"You've been working too hard lately," she said, lowering the cookbook slightly as she noticed him enter. She patted the space beside her. "Come here."
"What for?" Ren tilted his head and sat down. "Something on your mind?"
"If I only came to you when I needed something, wouldn't that make me a bad woman?" Nojiko smiled, setting the book aside and spreading her arms wide. "You've been pushing yourself too much. You must be under a lot of pressure. So, I came to help you relax—and maybe ask what you'd like for dinner."
"Anything's fine," Ren replied, frowning lightly. "But… how exactly are you planning to help me relax with that posture?"
Nami had said something similar two days ago, though her method had been a massage. Coincidentally, Vivi had walked in mid-session—then yesterday, she'd tried to imitate it in her own way, choosing a desert-style dance instead.
And now… Nojiko?
Were the three of them taking turns?
Before Ren could think further, his vision suddenly darkened as Nojiko pulled him into her arms, resting her chin on his head, her soft, elastic embrace smoothing away his furrowed brow.
Aside from the risk of suffocation, the "treatment" was flawless—an undeniably effective way to relieve stress.
At least for the moment…Ren finally relaxed.
(End of Chapter)