wahaha! Now that's the spawn of Harald!
Rocks watched Loki's Conqueror's Haki erupt and nodded in approval; the boy's potential was no less than Harald's, perhaps even greater.
As for that half-blood eldest son Hajrudin who'd been knocked out, Rocks didn't even bother glancing at him again.
Diligence is a noble spirit—but the gifted are simply born superior.
He firmly believed the Davy Clan, like every branch of the D Clan, stood above all other races.
If hard work alone decided everything, what place would genius have?
Most of the world's supreme powerhouses are geniuses who also outwork you.
Infuriating, isn't it?
People love to say success is 99% perspiration and 1% talent.
No one mentions that the 1% is thousands of times more important than the 99%.
Fang Huo remembered that in his previous life old Qian had joked: "Surely no one reaches fourteen without learning calculus?"
Unfortunately, Fang Huo was exactly the mediocrity who hadn't grasped calculus at fourteen.
In this world, if Loki scoffed, "Surely no one's born without Conqueror's Haki?"
or if Patrick Redfield sneered, "Surely no one's born without Observation Haki?"
Rocks and Fang Huo would probably break on the spot.
A notch lower, monsters like Charlotte Linlin—surely no one hits five without awakening Conqueror's Haki?
Scions of kings like Katakuri, Doflamingo, Ace—surely none of them reach ten without Conqueror's Haki?
This world doesn't belong to hardworking mediocrities; it belongs to hardworking geniuses.
Once in a blue moon a "diligent mediocrity" may defeat a "lazy genius,"
but reality will club you with the truth: the diligent genius is waiting around the corner.
A protagonist who starts as an ordinary kid?
No, no—sooner or later you'll discover
that his tragic past hides an empress sister, a Dao ancestor's reincarnation, or an emperor for an ancestor. The ugly duckling becomes a swan because it was always a swan.
Charlotte Linlin watched Loki's wild Conqueror's Haki and narrowed her eyes in thought.
Since Fang Huo wanted to adopt Loki, if the boy refused, she could always marry him to their daughter once she grew up.
By Giant growth rates, when their daughter reached adulthood Loki might still be considered a minor.
At forty-five a Giant is roughly fifteen in human terms.
Harald first sailed at forty-five; Dorry and Brogy were about fifty when they formed the Giant Warrior Pirates.
Elder Yoruru, 344 years old, died at five-year-old Linlin's hands partly because he was simply too old.
Yet Elder Yaruru lived on—right up to Straw Hat Luffy's arrival in Elbaf—an impressive 408 years,
even with Harald's sword still lodged in his skull.
One had to admit: Yaruru really knew how to survive.
If any Giant of the previous era had matched Yaruru's longevity,
the so-called Void Century would amount to barely two Giant generations.
Fang Huo never imagined Charlotte Linlin was already planning a daughter to wed.
Nor did Loki expect that while Fang Huo wanted him as godson, the five-years-older Charlotte Linlin had shortlisted him as future son-in-law.
What had the world come to?
"Enough!" Rocks flared his Conqueror's Haki, crushing Loki's back and hammering the boy's spirit.
Loki nearly blacked out.
When the Haki clashes ended, Ida roused from her half-faint, pallid face now half-believing the pirates' prophecy.
Her husband Harald had said wielders of Conqueror's Haki rarely bothered to lie.
Could this human pirate's prophecy be true?
Astrid's grim legacy: a prophecy that Loki would slay his father—and the human pirate even described Harald begging Loki to do it.
The thought tore at Ida.
She could bear neither her husband's death nor Loki branded as patricide.
Had her plea for peace between Elbaf and the world truly been wrong?
An outsider, she hadn't known the ancient hatred between Elbaf and the World Government, the cruelty of the Celestial Dragons—perhaps her good intentions would doom Harald and drag Elbaf into the Government's trap.
"If you want to change that future, you'd better listen to Fang Huo's advice," Rocks said, grinning at the shaken Ida and Loki.
Recruiting Harald as ally suddenly looked far more likely.
The tavern fell silent until, at last, Ida and Loki accepted Fang Huo's grim forecast.
"If Father weren't controlled by the king of the world, would he still ask me to kill him?" Loki demanded, demon-slit eyes fixed on the human pirate.
"Perhaps—but destiny's weight isn't shrugged off so easily. Could you sway Harald from seeking peace and joining the World Government?"
"You're barely a whelp in his eyes; top-tier Conqueror's Haki wills aren't bent by children."
Fang Huo gave the Giant brat a cool glance—still no respectful 'godfather' from him.
"I will change Father's mind!" Loki swore.
"I can't stand his grovelling anyway!"
Determination burned in him: avert the patricide, spare Harald the humiliation of bowing to the Government.
He would overturn his father's peace policy.
"Loki, your father endures all this injustice only for Elbaf's future," Ida interjected, hoping to soften the boy's scorn.
She knew many warriors already grumbled at Harald's sudden gentleness.
Elbaf, strongest of nations, needed no allies, no peace—
whatever it lacked it could simply take!
"It's because of you Father's changed!" Loki snapped at the kindly dwarf woman.
Sometimes he envied worthless Hajrudin for having a gentle mother.
His own had cast him, newborn, into the underworld and cursed him to kill his father.
He'd had no childhood—just a cursed prince reared by beasts.
"Loki…" Ida's heart ached as she watched him, no longer sure whether the peaceful future she and Harald envisioned was right at all.