Chapter Three: Blood on the Sea
The wind whipped through Draven's hair as he stood at the bow of the small boat, his eyes fixed on the endless expanse of ocean stretching before him. It had been a day since they set sail, leaving behind the small village and the island that had been his home and training ground. The boat they were on was old but sturdy, used by Kaela for her occasional trips to neighboring islands.
Draven's muscles tensed with excitement. He was finally out on the sea. He felt the pull of adventure and conquest, the same primal urge that had driven him in the jungle, now amplified by the thrill of the unknown.
He had spent the first day of their journey training as always, not in search of the elusive Conqueror's Haki, but instead focusing on something more practical: Armament Haki. On the small boat, with limited space to move, he could only attempt to unlock this power through meditation, sitting still as the waves rocked them. Draven flexed and unflexed his muscles repeatedly, trying to envision an invisible armor of will surrounding his fists, imagining them hardening into an impenetrable force. He could feel it, lurking just beneath the surface of his skin—like a pressure he couldn't quite grasp, but knew was there, waiting to be unlocked.
Ever since unlocking his Conqueror's Haki in the fight with the tiger, Draven had sensed the budding forms of the other two types of Haki within him. He couldn't quite touch them yet, couldn't explain exactly how they felt, but there was no denying their presence. It was as if they pulsed faintly under his consciousness, a part of him that hadn't fully awakened. And now, he was determined to find a way to bring them to the surface.
Kaela, the old navigator, sat at the helm, quietly guiding the boat. She kept her sharp eyes on the horizon, occasionally glancing at him with a look that was equal parts curiosity and wariness. Draven knew she had been skeptical when she agreed to help him, and even now, he could sense her concern.
But none of that mattered. His focus was solely on his training. Draven sat in stillness, eyes closed, envisioning each punch as if it were real. In his mind, he saw his arms coated in an invisible armor, his will fortifying his blows. He flexed his muscles ever so slightly, imagining the weight and pressure of Armament Haki surrounding them. He could almost feel the power—almost—but it wasn't enough. Not yet.
Kaela, ever the vigilant navigator, suddenly spoke up. "There's a ship on the horizon."
Draven straightened, his eyes opening slowly as he followed her gaze. Sure enough, there was a dark speck in the distance, slowly growing larger as it approached. A ship, and by the looks of it, heading straight toward them.
"Pirates," Kaela spat, her voice full of venom. The hatred in her eyes was unmistakable, born from years of bitter experience.
Draven's heart raced with excitement. Pirates. Real, living targets. He'd been waiting for this—an opportunity to test his strength against more than just beasts of the jungle. His lips curled into a predatory smile.
"They'll likely try to board us," Kaela said, her eyes narrowing. "Stay out of their way. I can handle them if—"
"I'll handle them," Draven interrupted, his voice cold and confident.
Kaela gave him a sidelong glance but said nothing more. She could sense the hunger in him, the eagerness to fight. She didn't approve, but she wasn't going to try and stop him either. Deep down, she was secretly curious about his current strength, wondering just how far the little boy had come.
The pirate ship loomed larger now, its black sails ragged and worn, the hull scarred by battles long past. Draven could make out the figures on deck—rough men with weapons drawn, shouting orders to one another as they prepared to board.
As the pirate ship closed in, it became clear they had no intention of negotiating. A grappling hook sailed through the air, catching on the side of their boat, and the first of the pirates leaped aboard, a sneer on his scarred face.
Draven didn't wait. The moment the man's boots touched the deck, Draven was on him, moving with the speed of a predator. His fist crashed into the pirate's face with bone-shattering force, the sickening crunch of cartilage and bone echoing as the man's skull whipped back. Blood sprayed from the pirate's shattered nose, his body crumpling to the floor in a limp heap, unconscious before he even knew what hit him.
The other pirates froze, their eyes wide with disbelief as they stared at the boy that stood before them. A child barely in his teens had just obliterated one of their own with a single punch. But their shock turned to rage, and with a guttural roar, they charged, weapons gleaming in the sun, ready to spill blood.
Draven's smirk widened, his heart pounding with exhilaration. Perfect.
He launched into them with savage intensity, his movements a blur of violence. He didn't just dodge their attacks; he flowed through them like a predator toying with prey. His fists and elbows lashed out with brutal precision, bones snapping under his strikes. One pirate screamed as Draven's knee drove into his gut, doubling him over before Draven's elbow came down hard on the back of his neck with a sickening crunch. Another pirate's arm went limp as Draven dislocated his shoulder with a swift, merciless twist, his body spinning like a whirlwind of destruction.
Blood splattered across the deck as his fists connected with jaws and temples, the sheer force of his blows sending bodies flying. Draven's eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he felt the fruits of his training manifest in every savage strike. The power he had cultivated in the jungle was now unleashed on living flesh, and it was glorious.
Each impact was devastating, each movement calculated for maximum brutality. His body was a blur, hitting with a force that left no room for resistance. Each punch sent shockwaves through his opponents, their bodies crumpling under the weight of his assault. These men were nothing more than fodder to him—punching bags for his amusement. And worst of all for them, Draven wasn't even trying.
A blade sliced toward Draven's throat, but he ducked with inhuman speed, his hand latching onto the pirate's wrist like a vice. With a sickening twist, the bones snapped audibly, and the pirate let out a guttural scream. Draven's expression didn't change as he drove his knee into the man's chest, ribs shattering beneath the impact. The pirate's body hurtled overboard, the sound of his splash lost in the chaos.
Another pirate lunged at him, but Draven moved before the man could even raise his weapon. In a fluid motion, he spun and drove his elbow into the side of the pirate's neck, the brutal force crushing his windpipe. The man fell to the deck, gasping and clawing at his throat, his eyes wide with the realization that death was imminent. Draven stepped over the dying body without so much as a second glance, his cold gaze already locked on the rest of the crew.
It was too easy. Pathetic, really.
The pirates, with their ragged weapons and desperate cries, were no more than walking corpses to him. One by one, they rushed at him, and one by one, they were dismantled—bones shattered, skulls caved in, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Blood splattered the deck as bodies crumpled, lifeless or writhing in agony. Each attack they launched was met with a savage response, and within minutes, the deck was littered with their broken forms.
This wasn't a battle. It was a slaughter.
Draven stood in the center of the carnage, his chest rising and falling in steady, controlled breaths. His fists were slick with blood, but his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. This was the world he had been reborn into, and he relished every second of it. The thrill of the fight, the power coursing through his veins, the sound of bones breaking beneath his hands—it was intoxicating. He was glad, almost amazed, that such strength could be grasped with only a few years of relentless training. The possibilities stretched out before him, limitless.
"Monsters raise monsters," Kaela muttered from behind him, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. She hadn't lifted a finger during the fight, but the look in her eyes told him everything. She was disturbed by what she had just witnessed.
But Draven didn't care. He wasn't here for approval or validation. He was here to relish in everything this life had to offer—and take what he wanted.
As he wiped the blood from his hands, his eyes caught sight of something glinting in the sunlight. A chest, half-hidden beneath the remains of the pirate crew's belongings, cracked open during the chaos. Inside, among various jewels and treasures, sat a single, strange-looking fruit.
Draven's heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what it was.
A Devil Fruit.
The pirates hadn't eaten it yet. Judging by their crude appearance, they had no idea what they had stumbled upon. Or they had likely planned to sell it—devil fruits were rumored to be worth 100 million berries at the very least, even without knowing what kind of fruit it was.
Draven hopped onto their ship with ease, bending down to look at the fruit with a satisfied smirk. It looked odd—shaped like a pineapple, swirled with strange patterns, its yellow skin gleaming in the sunlight. When he got closer to it, there was something… off about it. It didn't feel different from any other fruit, but something about it just felt wrong, unsettling, as though it didn't belong in the natural world.
But he didn't take a bite.
No. This wasn't the fruit he wanted. He already knew which Devil Fruit he desired, the one he had planned for from the moment he realized which world he had been reborn into.
But that didn't mean this one was useless. Far from it.
Kaela glanced at the open treasure chest but didn't bother to peer inside. "Take whatever you need," she muttered, her voice laced with disbelief. "I've never seen someone so young be so… ruthless."
Draven waved off her concern, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Those were pirates. A marine should be ruthless to their sworn enemies, no?" Unable to keep the amusement from his tone.
Kaela's gaze lingered on Draven, her eyes narrowing slightly as the memories surfaced. She had been there, all those years ago—on that island. The island the Marines had fought so hard to contain, the one they had ultimately failed to conquer. The inhabitants had been unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Powerful, untamed, and dangerous.
Kaela kept her expression neutral, hiding the unease that gnawed at her. She wouldn't let him see her doubt, wouldn't reveal what she knew. She had a promise to keep, but she couldn't let someone like this go unchecked.
Draven was unaware of the thoughts flowing through the old woman's head. He had what he needed. A ship full of treasure, a Devil Fruit, and proof that his strength was real. His journey was only just beginning.
And soon, the world would know his name.
——————————————————
The week passed slowly, but not for Draven.
The first two islands had come and gone, little more than stepping stones on his journey to the Conomi Islands. They hadn't stopped for long—just enough to restock on supplies and water. Kaela had kept mostly silent during these stops, their conversations becoming little more than brief exchanges about their course. The tension between them simmered beneath the surface, but Draven couldn't care less. Her approval was meaningless to him now. She was just a tool, a temporary guide to get him to where he needed to be.
His focus was singular, driven by an insatiable hunger for power. Every waking moment not spent navigating was dedicated to honing his strength. His body moved with purpose, each movement precise, each breath controlled. Draven shadowboxed in the open space on the deck, his form flawless, his footwork swift and measured. He weaved and struck the air with such force that gusts of wind followed every blow. With nothing on the ship to occupy his time, training took up the majority of his time.
He had taken it easy on those pirates, but even then, he had known he was holding back. His speed was impressive, maybe even slowly approaching the level of those who had mastered Soru, one of the Six Powers used by elite Marines. He was pleased with his progress but not content. He wanted more. Needed more.
Each day, he worked relentlessly to unlock Armament Haki. The feeling was there, just beneath the surface of his skin, like a layer of invisible armor waiting to be drawn out. Draven remembered what he had seen on the screen from the world of One Piece—how Haki could turn a man's hands black, far stronger than any metal. He could already sense that power beginning to coat his hands, even if it wasn't visible yet.
He was close. So close.
And then there was the Devil Fruit.
It sat beside him in a small treasure chest, and though it remained hidden from view, Draven could almost feel it calling to him. It was as if the fruit itself was whispering temptations in his ear, urging him to eat it. Like a devil coaxing him into making a pact.
What kind of fruit could it be? he wondered. Could it be one of the fruits he remembered from the stories? Something powerful, like a Logia or a Mythical Zoan? Or was it something completely new? Something unknown even to him?
He was eager to find out, but patient enough to wait. After all, this wasn't the fruit he had his heart set on. No, he knew exactly which Devil Fruit he wanted. But that didn't mean this one wouldn't be useful later.
Draven looked out over the horizon, his eyes narrowing as the outline of the Conomi Islands began to emerge. The week had passed faster than he expected, his focus on training making the days blur together into a single stretch of time. But now, the destination was in sight.
Kaela stood at the helm, guiding the boat with steady hands. Her sharp eyes glanced back at him occasionally, no doubt wondering what was going through his mind, but she didn't ask. She never asked anymore. Draven liked it that way—he didn't need the distraction.
As the islands grew closer, Draven clenched his fists, feeling the subtle pressure of the invisible armor he had been working to manifest. It wasn't fully there yet—not enough to turn his skin black like the legends spoke of—but he could feel it. His hands tingled with the energy, as if they were on the verge of becoming impenetrable.
He was pleased.
"Almost there," Kaela called out, her voice breaking through his concentration.
Draven nodded, his eyes fixed on the approaching island. He could feel his heart racing with anticipation, but his expression remained calm, composed. This wasn't just a random stop on his journey—this was where the real challenge would begin.
Arlong. The infamous fish-man who had terrorized the East Blue. The first real test of Draven's strength.
He couldn't help but grin at the thought. Finally, a challenge worth his time. He didn't care about Arlong's tyranny over the island or the people he oppressed. No, Draven's only concern was seeing how far he had come, testing his strength against someone who would push him to his limits.
As the boat approached the island's dock, Draven could see the village in the distance. It was quiet—too quiet, as if the people there were living under constant fear. He didn't need to ask why. The looming presence of Arlong's crew was palpable even from here.
Kaela guided the boat into port and dropped anchor, her expression unreadable. "I've brought you to the Conomi Islands, as promised." She said, her tone flat.
Draven turned to her, giving her a brief dismissive nod. "Thanks for the ride."
She gave him a look, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "You aren't joining the marines are you?"
Draven's smile widened. "Nah. I'd never take orders from someone else."
Kaela said nothing more, simply nodding as she began to gather her belongings. She didn't bother to confront him—the weight of an old promise lingered in her mind, and she intended to keep most of it.
Draven didn't bother to watch her leave. His focus was already on the village, on the looming presence of Arlong's tyranny.
He took a deep breath, flexing his fingers and feeling the faint hum of haki under his skin. His body was ready. His mind was sharp.
And soon, the Conomi Islands would feel his presence.
Draven stepped off the boat and onto the dock, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
This is where my journey truly begins.
AN: Hope you all enjoyed the first fight scene. Will his flippant decline of joining the Marines have consequences? And what kind of devil fruit did he pick up? Will Arlong pose any threat at all to our OP MC? Find out next time on…. Lol.