Chapter Twelve: A Breakthrough in Cultivation

After Roger's execution, Camus did not seek out Shanks and the others; instead, he departed on his own. Roger’s death had a profound impact on him. That fearless stance in the face of death, the way he laughed at its approach, deeply shook Camus’s soul.

Reflecting on the two years he had spent in this world, he realized he had taken many lives. When pirates died before him, he felt no burden in his heart. He did not consider himself cold-blooded. Yet, after Roger’s influence, Camus had fully immersed himself in this world.

This world was much like the one he came from: there was birth, aging, sickness, and death, and the warmth of family and friendship. Thinking of Robin, Camus, soaring through the sky, shuddered. He had always viewed Robin as just another woman in the world of pirates, no different from anyone else. Even after two years together, he still saw her as the Robin from the anime, unchanged by time. It was time for him to change his perspective. The people and creatures here were alive, brimming with feelings. He ought to consider himself a part of this world, an ordinary life among many, despite his prophetic abilities. He had to forget those, though it might be impossible. This was a real world, ever-changing, and only with absolute strength could he protect what he cared for.

As he flew, Camus soon left Loguetown far behind. He glanced back once at that fateful place, where both endings and beginnings were forged, then vanished into the sky as pure energy.

The next moment, he appeared aboard Whitebeard’s ship.

Whitebeard, observing the sudden arrival of the youth, noticed a distinct change; just days ago, Camus had been a carefree child, but now he carried the aura of an adult.

“How is Roger?” Whitebeard sat on his throne, holding a wine bottle, his gaze fixed in the direction of Loguetown.

“He’s dead, but he will live forever in the hearts of pirates. The Pirate King will be the dream of all. He has opened a new era.” With those words, Camus disappeared once more, dissolving into the air.

“Roger, you really did it,” Whitebeard murmured quietly, unaffected by Camus’s departure. He did not notice how Camus’s eyes had changed, the pupils now white with red irises, two tomoe slowly spinning within.

At that moment, Robin was sitting atop a giant rock by the shore, reading. Gazing absentmindedly at the distant sea, she was suddenly embraced from behind. Startled, she heard Camus’s voice: “It’s me. Sit with me for a while.”

Camus held Robin close. Though he spoke no sweet words, she could feel the strength of his grip.

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In the year following Roger’s execution, Camus began a period of intense training.

At dawn, after a gentle kiss on Robin’s forehead, Camus rose alone to meditate. Facing the rising sun, he began his regimen.

Seated on the beach, he closed his eyes, letting the liquid energy in his body flow. The blue energy completed several great cycles before settling in his core, where it had started to crystallize. Through inner vision, he saw that his core now held solidified fragments of energy, with flashes of purple lightning occasionally flickering around the blue crystal, making it more condensed and hinting at a transition toward violet.

He exhaled lightly and opened his eyes, which now gleamed with a violet glow and faint streaks of lightning.

Camus stood and headed toward the wooden cabin, where Robin was now awake.

After three years of training, Robin’s body had grown stronger and taller than most seven-year-olds. Seeing Camus return from training, she greeted him with a bright, adorable smile.

After breakfast, Camus told Robin he would be away for months. Leaving behind Snow, he soared out over the vast sea. Robin watched him go, not asking why he trained so relentlessly, yet unable to hide her reluctance to see him leave. She too continued her daily practice of the Divine Technique.

Camus trained swiftly over the sea. It was true that elemental flight was fast, but it did nothing for his cultivation. Only through exertion and recovery could he improve.

Hundreds of kilometers from Ohara, Camus dove into the ocean, sinking deeper and deeper until he stopped at a depth of a thousand meters. At this depth, only large Sea Kings could survive, but none dared approach within a hundred meters of him.

Cross-legged, Camus absorbed the ocean’s spiritual energy. He sensed that he was close to breaking through the sixth stage of the Divine Technique’s first layer. Achieving this would allow his core to condense a golden pellet from the vast liquid energy.

The abundance of energy in the sea was astounding—no wonder the Sea Kings grew so massive.

The Divine Technique spun rapidly, and energy poured into him at an incredible rate, sending ripples across the ocean’s surface. Within, massive amounts of liquid energy compressed together. His body temperature soared, and a faint red glow rose from his skin. Even Sea Kings kilometers away dared not approach, as the pressure from his cultivation sent violent tremors through the surrounding waters.

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A month passed in the blink of an eye. Camus continued absorbing the ocean’s energy, and the golden core in his dantian had grown to the size of a peanut, dark blue and deepening in color. But it was not enough; it needed to reach the size of an egg.

Unaware, he had trained beneath the sea for an entire year.

When he finally opened his eyes, purple lightning flashed within them, and faint arcs of electricity appeared before him.

After a year of deep cultivation, the core in his body had reached the size of an egg, shining with violet light.

As he slowly stood and clenched his fists, the very seawater trembled.

Looking up, his aura exploded outward, amplified by his Conqueror’s Haki. The sea surface erupted with an explosion hundreds of meters high, and the waters for miles around shook violently. Under his wild pressure, all Sea Kings and sea creatures nearby were stunned into unconsciousness.

Feeling the power coursing through his body, Camus glanced at his seemingly delicate skin, now filled with strength. He smiled faintly and shot out of the water.

After changing clothes and orienting himself toward Ohara, he exhaled and, with a burst of energy, raced across the sea, leaving a massive wave in his wake and vanishing in an instant.

Noticing a distant blaze over Ohara, Camus’s body trembled.

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This chapter may not be my best, but here it is! I hope for your support and more votes.

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