It was true — Law was strong. Far too strong. Strong in a way that defied all logic.
And yet, no matter how deeply Roya searched through Law's body or spirit, he could find nothing suspicious.
He recalled that eerie sensation earlier, as though someone had whispered mockingly in his ear while crossing the Warp. The thought sharpened his unease. The abnormalities aligned into a single truth: Pirate Star was anything but normal.
Roya's gaze locked into Law's eyes. His voice sank low.
"The distress signal the Hades received — who sent it?"
Law froze for a heartbeat, confusion flashing across his face.
"A distress signal? Impossible! Everything on Pirate Star is running smoothly. There's no reason anyone would call for help.
"And a false alarm? Even less likely. The Flower District is a patrol priority. It's under constant watch — no one could just sneak in.
"Besides, even if someone did manage to infiltrate and trigger the signal from the Void Throne, it would have caused a massive energy surge. Neither I nor Dr. Vegapunk could possibly have missed it!
"And even if by some miracle we did… surely Star-Spirit would not remain unaware!"
Roya drew a deep breath.
"Perhaps… a disturbance from the Warp."
He ended it there, turning away and flying toward the Holy Land of Mary Geoise.
Law hurried after him, chattering as they went, casually recounting the changes on Pirate Star during the expedition's absence.
Soon, the two arrived before Mariejois.
Once reduced to ruin by successive battles against bioweapons, the city atop the Red Line had not only been restored, but was more splendid than ever. From base to summit, it sprawled with countless structures. At its heart, embedded deep in the mountain, rose the Pyramid — the true core. The city had grown into a colossal metropolis of over ten million souls.
Roya stilled midair. With a thought, he veiled himself and Law in psychic perception, blinding the people below to their presence. Then he descended into the outer city streets.
He had felt it there — a faint current of faith, hidden among the masses.
If not for the vast tides of belief he had once received from the natives of the Primal Star, even he might have missed it, lost in the chaotic noise of humanity's aura.
It was indistinct, shapeless. Not a directed faith with a clear object, but vague, primitive reverence with no true recipient.
Yet instinct told him: something was wrong.
To know more, he had to delve deeper.
Law followed closely, frowning. "My lord, most who live in the outer city are refinery laborers and their families. They lack education, and their wits aren't sharp. All they can do is toil."
Roya gave no reply. He pressed on, tracking the thread of that obscure faith.
Law trailed behind, baffled.
Through winding alleys they went, until they stopped before a filthy tavern.
Roya slipped past several drunkards sprawled outside in broad daylight and made his way to the kitchen.
Years of caked, blackened grease, layered with fresh and dried bloodstains, made the place revolting.
Roya was forced to raise a psychic barrier, warding off the filth — even filtering the air before drawing it into his lungs.
With distaste, he crossed the kitchen and stopped at a shelving unit stacked with ingredients.
His psychic senses confirmed it: behind the rack lay a stairwell, leading underground.
Law sensed the anomaly too. He frowned. "Why block off a cellar door with a shelf?"
He raised his hand, shifting the heavy rack aside with telekinetic ease.
The stairwell yawned open before them.
Law's brow furrowed. He assumed a guarded stance and descended first.
"He truly doesn't know?"
Watching Law's back, Roya's own brow creased. He followed.
"Damn it! What filth! How dare they profane this way!"
Law's furious voice rose from below.
Roya hadn't yet seen the chamber, but his perception already had.
The object of Law's wrath was there: a statue of Roya himself, enshrined in the underground chamber.
"To place Lord Roya's statue in such a foul, squalid cellar! This isn't faith — this is blasphemy!"
Overcome with rage, Law abandoned his telekinesis. He drew his cursed blade, Kikoku, and hacked madly at the grotesque altar.
His muscles strained with full force, every motion radiating loathing for the structure.
"Stop!"
Roya frowned, freezing Law in place with his psychic field. The restraint halted his frenzy, sparing the strange altar.
It stood about a meter and a half long, half a meter wide, fashioned from the bone of some unknown creature. Jagged spurs jutted irregularly, supporting its weight.
In the dim light, the bone glowed faintly with an eerie cyan sheen that set the nerves on edge.
At its center sat the brass effigy of Roya. Before it lay two dishes of food offerings — moldy and rotting, long neglected.
The spoiled offerings, coupled with the bone altar, transformed the shrine into something that resembled not worship… but a curse.
Roya was not being venerated. He was being cursed.
No wonder Law — founder of the Supernova Chapter and its first commander — flew into a rage. The chapter had been composed almost entirely of Roya's zealots, as was the planetary defense force left behind.
Roya's perception quivered. He gathered the lingering human traces around the altar.
Visions unfolded — scenes of past rituals. He saw the worship with his mind's eye as though he had stood there himself.
"These commoners were deceived. They thought they were venerating me, seeking my protection. But in truth, they were worshiping the altar itself.
"Someone, hidden in the shadows, is siphoning the faith that should have flowed into my projection.
"I must uncover who is teaching and organizing these rites."
Please drop some power stones support me at my
PS: Access the complete/finished chapters/series at Patreon: NanamiTL