After a chorus of yings and roars, the Lord of the Sky nodded, signaling for Creed and the others to climb on.
They mounted its massive body, and it began to move.
Like an iron colossus, it crushed everything in its path, charging forward with the momentum of a locomotive.
Scenery blurred on both sides as beasts fled in terror before the island's ruler.
Half an hour later…
The Lord of the Sky stopped at the center of the island, where a massive vine rose into the heavens, winding upward into another cloud layer above.
The City of Gold—Shandora—rested at its peak.
Creed and Ain leapt off, patting the serpent's body in thanks. "We'll head up from here."
"Ying!"
Falkor chirped to the Lord of the Sky, then perched atop Creed's head.
Creed leapt from leaf to leaf, agile as a monkey. The vine was colossal, and even with their speed, it took minutes to reach the top.
They broke through the clouds.
These clouds, like the island's solid sea of cumulus, held their weight like land.
A dazzling sea of gold met their eyes, glittering under the sun's reflection.
There, above the clouds and beneath the sky, lay an ancient city of pure gold, spanning endlessly before them.
A desolate, heavy aura lingered, as if the ages themselves weighed upon it.
Even Creed, usually calm, was shaken at the sight.
Gold was common enough, but a city made entirely of it? Unheard of.
It was nothing less than a miracle of the world.
The City of Gold—Shandora.
Ain's eyes revealed unrestrained awe. As a child, she had heard stories of this legendary place, but never imagined it truly existed.
The only one unaffected was Falkor, the little dragon.
To it, these shining stones were nothing remarkable.
Creed and Ain walked forward into the city, where the heavy breath of time pressed upon them. The structures of Shandora were immense, towering far larger than modern buildings.
Four centuries had passed, yet the city still gleamed brightly in its solitude.
Its preservation was due in part to Skypieans, who never used gold as currency and believed the island to be divine. They dared not defile its treasures.
Even the kingdom of Birka ignored it.
Later, Enel used the gold only as a conductor for his "ark."
Pressing on, they spotted a vast plaza.
At its center stood a colossal bell.
The Golden Bell—the symbol of Shandora.
Legend said its chime was beautiful, unique, and carried far across the skies—so far that even the Blue Sea below could hear it.
Over four hundred years ago, it had been a beacon.
The Lamp of Shandora, the Light of Hope.
Its sound guided lost ships through storms, rekindling their courage.
Most importantly, the Poneglyph was carved into its base.
Soon, Creed and Ain arrived at the plaza, standing before the bell's immense form.
It was a titan of gold, dwarfing them completely.
But they weren't the only ones there.
For centuries, no man had walked these streets. Yet today, another visitor sat beneath the Golden Bell.
An old man with snow-white hair, half-length and wavy, a beard on his chin, and a scar over his right eye.
Clutching a bottle of liquor, he stared in silence at the Poneglyph, eyes clouded with memories.
Creed froze, stunned.
No wonder he hadn't seen him at Sabaody. He had come to Skypiea.
Before him was none other than the Dark King—Silvers Rayleigh, first mate of the Pirate King Roger!
…
(End of Chapter)
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