Time Travel: Age of Discovery

The journey they were about to embark on would be like a stone dropped into a tranquil lake, stirring up waves and shocking the eardrums of the entire world. Like night walkers, the two men approached the mysterious hut silently. As they expected, it was deserted, with only a huge iron lock hanging coldly on the door, as if mocking any courage that might challenge it.

Teya cast a determined look at Tiger, then, as if imbued with magic, gripped the lock tightly. He closed his eyes, as if engaging in a silent conversation with the lock. A moment later, an invisible force surged from his body, and his armed Haki enveloped his hands like a substance. With a snap, the seemingly indestructible iron lock was forcibly broken in two, like a broken branch.

The door slowly opened, and an indescribable smell rushed towards him. It was the smell of blood and despair, which made Teya frown, as if even the air was telling the story of this place.

Despite the inky darkness of the night, their sight was like sharp swords, piercing the darkness and taking in the scene within. Rows of iron cages, like prisons of sin, held countless souls captive. Some slaves hung their heads, as if they had given up hope; others struggled to their feet, gripping the bars tightly with their handcuffed hands, their eyes gleaming with curiosity and longing, as if they were awaiting the dawn of redemption.

The sound of the iron gate opening was particularly piercing in the silence, and the slaves cast inquiring glances. But Tiger, like a returning hero, strode into this hellish space. His figure weaved between the iron cages, finally stopping in front of a special cage where several murlocs were imprisoned. When they saw Tiger, a flicker of disbelief and surprise flashed in their eyes, as if they were trying to confirm the reality of what they were seeing.

Tiger's name resounded like thunder across Fishman Island. He was a legendary adventurer, a hero to all the fishmen. If not for a twist of fate, they might never have found themselves in this predicament. But now, their hero had truly appeared before them, as if he had stepped out of a dream.

"I'm here to save you." Tiger's voice was firm and powerful, like the first ray of sunlight at dawn, piercing the darkness and shocking even Teya standing at the door. Although the surroundings remained silent, Teya knew that at this moment, they had become warriors who changed their destiny, and their actions would be like brilliant fireworks, lighting up the night sky and shocking the world.

In that dark corner, gently caressed by moonlight, gathered a group of souls newly freed from their chains—former slaves, their eyes still gleaming with the spark of survival undimmed by time. Some still retained the terror of their initial imprisonment, while others had already silently sown the seeds of resistance within their hearts.

Teya, a sturdy young man, joined Tiger's team without hesitation. They were like messengers of the night, silently shuttling between the cages. The power in their hands turned into the key to freedom, unlocking those heavy shackles.

When the cold handcuffs broke, accompanied by the subtle sound of metal falling to the ground, the air of freedom seemed to flow into their lungs so freshly for the first time. For some people, tears flowed silently down their cheeks. They were the flowers of hope blooming in despair. They knew very well that the freedom at this moment was a treasure exchanged for countless days and nights of anticipation.

The night was as dark as ink, the stars hanging low, providing a cover for their escape. In this boundless darkness, they quietly advanced, each step carrying a longing for freedom. And their kind-hearted murloc friends, though well-intentioned, wanted to lend a hand, but Tiger's stern gaze dissuaded them: "The road home is more precious to you. Go quickly, and take our blessings with you!"

When the last faint candlelight extinguished behind the slaves, they had already silently merged into the ocean of night, heading deeper into the palace. There, more of their compatriots were imprisoned, but the method of rescue had quietly changed, from subtle liberation to shocking declaration.

Standing in the shadows of the palace, Tiger's gaze fixed on a drunken Celestial Dragon staggering at the end of the corridor. In that moment, his fury burned like a raging fire whipped up by a violent wind, unstoppable. The Celestial Dragon remained lost in his drunken reverie, oblivious to the impending storm. Tiger's finger lightly pressed the trigger, a cannon imbued with the will to liberate, trained on the symbol of oppression and injustice.

"Bang!" A resounding explosion shattered the silence of the night, the first clarion call of freedom. On the Red Earth Continent, the palace, considered impregnable by the Celestial Dragons, trembled at the sound of the cannon. Inside the banquet hall, the Celestial Dragons, immersed in a life of extravagance and decadence, mistook the initial blast for some frivolous celebratory fireworks and continued their merrymaking.

However, the truth always comes unexpectedly. The drunken Draco had become a victim of the arsenal of freedom. His fall, like the first domino, foreshadowed the imminent collapse of the tower of oppression. The Draco in the banquet hall, including the self-righteous guards, were immersed in a blind self-confidence. They were oblivious to the impending storm and continued to chat and laugh amidst the clinking of glasses, as if the outside world had nothing to do with them.

However, before the echo of the first gunshot had completely dissipated, more artillery fire began to burst into the night sky, each sound was a call for freedom, and each ray of light was a counterattack against oppression.

Across the Red Earth Continent, a revolution of freedom and liberation quietly began. Beneath a sky shrouded in injustice and despair, Tiger clutched a seemingly insignificant cannon. Each roar, though not as deafening as thunder, was enough to shake the Celestial Dragons' seemingly inviolable pride. Under the barrage, even those adorned with magnificent garments and self-proclaimed gods were forced to face the harsh reality of their mere flesh and blood.

A cannonball streaked across the sky, accurately ending a Celestial Dragon's dream of ruling, turning him into dust amidst brilliant sparks.

Afterward, Tiger and Teya, like two swords united, each fighting their own battles. Tiger's figure traversed the dark corners of the slave town. Every time he arrived, it was like a spring breeze, breaking the shackles that bound freedom one by one, and long-lost smiles bloomed on the faces of the slaves. Teya, on the other hand, embarked on an even more arduous journey, his goal being the magnificent yet sinister palace, where even more souls, considered the property of the Celestial Dragons, were imprisoned.

Teya wandered through the palace's maze of corridors. The sound of artillery fire outside, like distant thunder, vibrated his eardrums from time to time. Yet, the palace interior was eerily silent, as if the Celestial Dragons had long since grown accustomed to the storms of the outside world, or perhaps their hearts had long since become numb. Teya sighed inwardly, "Surely, even artillery fire can't awaken these slumbering souls."