Location: Star Palace
Feldway's POV
Over the past few days, I'd been running simulations in my mind—scenarios, tactics, predictions. All centered on one problem: Obera.
Her lack of respect wasn't just annoying—it was dangerous. She wasn't insubordinate yet, but the signs were there. Too independent. Too skeptical. She questioned me silently with every glance.
I can't alllow that…
Force wouldn't work. She's proud, sharp, the type who resists anything that smells like coercion. No—I'd need to be wiser in situations like this.
There were three viable paths:
One, prove myself in a way she can't ignore.
Two, orchestrate a scenario that puts her in my debt.
Three, exploit her values or fears—create a situation where she must acknowledge my authority.
For now, I'd maintain the role of the reliable commander. Dino trusted me. Zalario respected me. Even Testarossa seemed comfortable around me. But Obera? I'd need something tailored for her.
Respect isn't given. It's taken.
And then, right on cue—
'I need you in my office, really quick.'
Veldanava's voice flickered in my thoughts.
'What is it? Do the others need to be present?'
'No, just you. I want your opinion. Teleportina Abracadabra.'
A flash of light engulfed me. In an instant, I was standing in a pristine, radiant white chamber. At the far end, Veldanava stood beside a floating projection—a visual interface created through thought communication.
I approached silently.
He gestured toward the display. "Take a look, Feldway."
I stared at the vision: a desolate wasteland. Burnt earth. Deep ruptures. Charred soil. Like the aftermath of a great cataclysm.
"What happened here?"
"This used to be a grassland," Veldanava said grimly. "Now it's gone. Flattened. No signs of combat, no energy traces. You're from another world. Any insight?"
Odd, coming from the one who created the everything. But I answered anyway.
"From a geological standpoint, it mimics an earthquake—high magnitude, likely followed by subterranean shockwaves. But this is too… deliberate. Something caused it. Or was born from it."
Veldanava gave a quiet hum. "Could be. Regardless, I want to send someone to investigate. You've gotten to know the angels better than I have. Who do you think fits best?"
An opportunity is right in my hand…
"This is Obera's type of mission," I replied without hesitation. "She's efficient. Precise. And she values responsibility. Give her something important—she won't waste it."
He grinned. "Interesting pick. You tell her then."
I nodded.
A pulse of energy returned me to the palace.
I found Obera training alone. Blade strikes crisp and clinical. She didn't acknowledge me until I spoke.
"Obera."
She turned, ever composed. "Commander."
"There's a mission. Veldanava and I located an anomalous region—once a grassland, now a smoldering ruin. We need it investigated. You're the best choice."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why me?"
"Because I trust you. This isn't a routine job—it demands clarity, judgment. You're the most qualified."
Silence.
Then a curt nod. "Understood."
She walked away without another word—but something in her posture shifted.
A seed had been planted.
A Few Weeks Later
"So that's how your technique flows?" I asked Zalario, watching his sparring session. "Vertical cleave, followed by horizontal rotation—imbued with Haki. Deadly, but predictable."
He smirked. "Suggestions?"
"Add delay. Make the first strike bait the enemy into committing. Then land the horizontal cut where they least expect it."
He nodded. "Brilliant."
Before I could elaborate, a powerful voice echoed in my mind—
'EVERYONE, I NEED YOU IN THE MEETING ROOM NOW!!'
Veldanava.
Zalario didn't wait. A teleportation circle opened beneath us, light flashing across our vision.
Location: Meeting Room
As the light faded, we arrived in the central hall. The rest of the angels blinked in seconds later.
At the head of the table, Veldanava sat motionless, his expression carved in stone.
He looked straight at me.
"Remember that wasteland I showed you?" he asked.
I nodded once. "Yes."
"It wasn't a natural disaster," he said. "Nor remnants of a battle."
I frowned. "Then what?"
He spoke the words like they carried the weight of fate itself.
"It's the birth of a concept. Destruction. Something primal… unstoppable. I call it…"
He paused.
"…Ashura. The Mad Deity."
A silence heavier than death filled the room.
And in that moment, I knew—
I was too short sighted…
To be continued…