One Piece: A Warlord's Path Chapter 15: Objective

Novel: One Piece: A Warlord's Path Author: JuanFiction Updated: Jun 05, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 15: Objective from One Piece: A Warlord's Path, a Fantasy novel by JuanFiction.

"Haaah~"

After a long stretch of silent ditation, Aeridar finally found his calm.

"Oi, oi—what the hell happened to you? You look like a wreck."

Captain Jaron, his face streaked with blood, strolled over while barking orders at the remaining crew. With a bottle of booze in hand, he leaned against the ship's mast and gave Aeridar a sidelong glance, lips curled in a smirk.

"Old problem," Aeridar replied flatly, shaking his head. "Today's fight just triggered it... got a little intense."

"Bloodlust Syndro," Jaron muttered, his tone heavy. "Once blood is drawn, it's like a switch flips. Even the calst man can lose control. Crave it. So even start... drinking it."

He eyed Aeridar warily—no telling when the guy might snap again.

"Drinking blood? What am I, a vampire?" Aeridar frowned. He knew the condition had started back on Kukos Island, where he'd endured it for a while and thought he'd gotten it under control. Clearly, it went deeper. "How do you know so much about it?"

"Seen it before," Jaron replied, swigging from his bottle. "And I know you've been suppressing it. But that's not a cure. The more you repress it, the harder it rebounds. Bloodlust Syndro needs to be guided, not sealed away."

"Guided how?" Aeridar asked, suddenly serious.

"By cultivating the mind," Jaron said, turning his back. "Stay centered—at all tis. It's the slowest thod, and the dumbest, but it works."

He took another gulp, then added, "A head monk told that once."

"Captain, was it Master Shingen from Myouya Temple?" Dimitri asked curiously, glancing up from coiling so rope.

Jaron didn't answer—just nodded and took another swig.

"Cultivate the mind, huh..."

Aeridar repeated the phrase under his breath, chewing on its aning.

Back on Earth, there was this school of thought that was prevalent in wuxia and xianxia web novels—Daoism. Though often blended with Buddhist ideas, especially when it ca to things like mindfulness and cultivating inner peace, his real understanding hadn't co from scripture. It ca from those stories—where once a martial artist reached the pinnacle of strength, they'd retreat from the world, becoming masters not just of the blade, but of the heart.

So were stoic. Others, boisterous. So, downright sinister or underhanded. But they all had one thing in common: complete, unwavering clarity about their path. Nothing external could shake them.

Even in the world of One Piece, the greatest warriors all bore unshakable convictions.

Whitebeard—his boundless heart and indomitable might. He'd never let anyone hurt his sons. Never allowed betrayal between crewmates. His ship wasn't a vessel; it was a family.

Or Sakazuki—Admiral Akainu. Brutal. Rigid. A zealot for "Absolute Justice." To him, there was no compromise with evil. He'd eliminate anything—even civilians or comrades—if it ant upholding the honor of the Marines. Many hated him, but Aeridar had to admit:

"There's a raging tiger in his soul... yet he still stops to sll the roses."

Then there was Shanks. Laid-back, charismatic, and always smiling. Never the type to fuss over appearances. But he valued friendship above all. Cross that line, and he'd co down like thunder. Losing an arm hadn't even fazed him. That kind of strength—it wasn't just power. It was spirit.

Even in those wuxia and xianxia novels, many high-level monks and Daoist masters eventually secluded themselves—living like wandering sages, one with the mountains and sky.

That part... Aeridar resonated with deeply.

In Dao, all things return to nature. The world flows from that source.

But then a wave of confusion hit him.

He hadn't chosen this world. He'd been thrown into it—abandoned on Kukos Island, where he survived for ten grueling years, hunted by beasts that viewed him as nothing more than at.

He wasn't so elite businessman. Not a special forces operative. Not an assassin. Just a broke, ordinary shut-in. A total nobody.

But he'd endured.

Barely.

Ten years. Alone.

Any normal person would've gone mad in half that ti. This wasn't so video ga survival sim. This was real.

Each day, Aeridar fought only to stay alive. He never dared think beyond survival. Sure, sotis he fantasized about becoming a Yonko like Whitebeard or Shanks, reshaping the age—but those were just empty dreams. He never truly planned for a future.

That's why, when he and Dimitri talked about dreams, he only asked about Dimitri's and never shared his own—because even he had only the faintest idea of what his dream was, and no real plan for how to reach it.

Jaron and Dimitri must've noticed. They quietly stepped away, letting him think.

"...Heh." Aeridar let out a hollow laugh.

"Didn't I just say that people with no dreams are no better than dead fish? And yet, look at now—flopping like a damn sardine."

He sighed, the waves lapping gently beside the hull.

"Going out to sea was the right move. But why? Just to be another pirate? Am I after the One Piece? Do I want to beco Pirate King? Or maybe I want to bring down the World Governnt? Spark a revolution?"

He shot down each thought as fast as it surfaced.

"No. None of those fit. I'm not that kind of person."

So what was he after?

He looked back on his old life.

Endless school days. Then, endless work. Always under soone else's thumb—parents, teachers, managers. Every step controlled.

Say the wrong thing, offend the wrong person—you're out.

Smile, flatter, drink when they drink.

Day after day, the sa grind. Sa stress. A asly paycheck that couldn't even compare to what the rich spent on a single al.

Those guys snapped their fingers, and won ca running. You? Even if you moved mountains for her, she might still ghost you.

No connections? No power? Then no matter how talented you were, you'd be buried by the crowd.

But here? In this world?

Strength was everything.