Chapter 13: Sixteen

Chapter 13: Sixteen

The morning was serene, with a refreshing breeze gliding over the calm, endless expanse of the sea. The sky, veiled in a soft, clouded gray, cast a tranquil glow upon the waters. The waves barely lapped against the massive hull of the Moby Dick, the flagship of the Whitebeard Pirates, which rested majestically amidst the gentle tides. Its grand white sails bore the emblem of the mighty Edward Newgate, proudly fluttering as the sea wind breathed life into them.

The wooden deck creaked faintly as the ship gently swayed, and a faint mist hung low over the waters, lending the scene an almost ethereal beauty.

In the quiet of the early morning, Marco, the nineteen-year-old first division commander, stretched lazily near the ship's railing. His blond hair, still ruffled from sleep, caught the faint breeze, dancing like golden threads against the somber backdrop of the clouds. A single tear welled up in his eye as he yawned deeply, betraying his lingering drowsiness.

"Man," Marco murmured, rubbing his eyes, his voice low but tinged with amusement. "It's too early for this…"

His half-lidded eyes caught movement on the horizon. A ship from the fleet was approaching, its silhouette gradually growing larger against the soft gray sky. His lips curled into a small smile.

"Finally," he muttered, brushing a hand through his tousled hair. He stood straight, the wind tugging at his loose, unbuttoned shirt, which revealed a toned chest lined with faint scars.

As the ship came closer, Marco called out, his voice carrying easily across the stillness, "You're late, guys."

The commotion of Marco's voice stirred little on the Moby Dick. Most of the crew remained sound asleep, their snores blending into the rhythmic lull of the ocean. One pirate stirred briefly, groggily lifting his head and squinting against the faint light of dawn.

"Meliodas?" he mumbled, his voice slurred with sleep. "That kid's still alive?" Before anyone could answer, he collapsed face-first onto the deck, snoring louder than before.

Marco chuckled softly, shaking his head. "He's with Teach. Of course he's fine... probably."

The approaching ship finally closed the distance, its hull gently bumping against the Moby Dick as the crew secured it with thick ropes. Marco's smile widened when he saw the first figure leap onto the flagship—a young man with unruly blond hair, sharp green eyes, and a mischievous grin.

"Meliodas," Marco began, his tone almost scolding. But before he could finish, Meliodas dashed forward and flung himself at Marco, tackling him to the deck.

Caught off guard, Marco's eyes widened as the two of them tumbled onto the wooden boards. He groaned slightly, opening his eyes to find Meliodas beaming down at him, his grin wide and infectious.

"It's been a while, Marco," Meliodas said, his tone light and playful.

Marco scowled but couldn't suppress a smile. He grabbed Meliodas by the front of his black vest, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. Meliodas dangled in midair, his small stature making the scene almost comical.

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?" Marco grumbled, his voice edged with annoyance. "Asking Oyaji for permission to leave while I wasn't around?"

Meliodas remained unfazed, his green eyes calm and unwavering. His vest hung loosely, revealing a white, button-down shirt beneath it, untucked and slightly wrinkled. A red tie, carelessly knotted, hung around his neck, adding a dash of roguish charm.

"I had Teach with me," Meliodas replied, his voice steady. "I wanted to wait for you to come back, but I was in a hurry."

At that moment, another figure stepped onto the Moby Dick. Teach, with his imposing build and thick black beard, grinned widely, his laughter booming across the deck.

"Yo, Marco," Teach called out, his voice rough yet cheerful. "Been a while! Zehahahaha!"

Marco sighed and released Meliodas, who landed gracefully on his feet. Turning on his heel, Marco waved dismissively. "Just don't do something reckless like that again."

As he walked toward the cabin, his voice echoed across the ship. "Hey, Oyaji! Meliodas and Teach are back! Still asleep?"

The captain's quarters were dimly lit, the soft glow of morning filtering through the thick curtains. The air smelled faintly of wood polish and salt, a scent that clung to the entire ship. Edward Newgate, the great Whitebeard himself, lay on his massive bed, his eyes still closed. His imposing frame dwarfed the furniture, and the room seemed almost too small to contain his presence.

Whitebeard opened one eye lazily, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Your voice is too loud for this early hour. So, who's back now?"

Before Marco could reply, Meliodas entered the room with his characteristic grin, raising a hand in greeting.

"Yo, Oyaji! It's been a while!"

Before Meliodas could finish his sentence, a sudden shift in Whitebeard's demeanor stopped him. The Yonko's gaze sharpened, and he raised his massive left hand, striking the air with the back of his fist.

The air cracked. A visible ripple tore through the room, shattering wooden beams and sending a powerful tremor toward Meliodas and Marco.

"What the—?!" Marco shouted, his voice laced with panic.

But Meliodas moved swiftly. Drawing a peculiar blade—Lostvayne—from the ropes strapped across his back, he stepped forward and swung it against the oncoming shockwave.

"Full Counter!"

The air seemed to shatter once more, but this time, the tremor reversed, doubling in intensity as it surged back toward Whitebeard. The ripple smashed through the already damaged wood, shaking the room violently.

Whitebeard didn't flinch. Raising his right hand, now encased in a glowing white aura, he caught the amplified shockwave with his fingers. The tremor dissipated instantly, leaving only silence in its wake.

A smirk tugged at Whitebeard's lips as he looked at Meliodas, his eyes filled with pride. "Found yourself a weapon you're willing to use, have you?"

Meliodas returned the blade to its makeshift sheath, securing it against his back. "I don't think I'll ever use another blade," he said, his tone resolute. "I've grown attached to this one."

Marco exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Oyaji, you're going to tear the ship apart one of these days," he muttered.

Whitebeard chuckled, his laughter rich and full. "It's just a little reunion. No need to fuss."

He leaned back, his expression softening. "By the way, how long until the anniversary of finding Meliodas?"

Meliodas's smile faded slightly. "I don't want a party this year. I've grown up enough to stop celebrating things like that."

Marco chuckled, placing a hand on Meliodas's shoulder. "Doesn't matter, kid. Oyaji doesn't need much of an excuse to celebrate."

"Gurarara!" Whitebeard laughed heartily. "It's not a trivial thing. It's the day we found you, Meliodas. You should feel proud."

As the laughter faded, Meliodas's smile returned. He looked at the two men who had shaped his life on the seas.

'That's right, I'm happy to be in this world' he thought. 'Happy to be part of the Whitebeard Pirates, even if adopted, I'm happy to be this man's son. He showed me many aspects of life, I spent some nights feeling hungry because we ran out of food while we were in the ocean, something I never experienced as a king before. As I grew older, I met many flashy characters, and my knowledge of this world grew more and more. But day after day, I realized something, Whitebeard has already finished his adventure in the seas, his era has stopped with Roger's era, he has neither the passion nor the desire to search for the One Piece. As for Oyagi, his goal was family, and now he has many sons of the seas, including him.

The pages of my life turned day after day, I refused to get the Whitebeard Pirates tattoo over and over again, but I reached this day, which is a decisive decision in my life.

I am Yulion Meliodas, 16 years old, and today Oyagi is waiting for me to speak to me officially. Will I become the captain of the Whitebeard Pirates' second fleet? Or will I begin the journey I've been waiting to begin. Even if it means fighting my comrades, I will sail the outside world alone...'

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