T/N: The author ntioned that he accidentally deleted Chapter 61. It's unclear whether he also lost any backups, but he never reposted it. Instead, he simply remarked, "Fortunately, the story still barely connects." If he felt comfortable leaving it out, the Chapter was probably minor in significance.
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It was a sunny day on the Grand Line. A sleek three-mast wolfhead warship sliced through the waters with impressive speed, cruising at a steady 11 knots.
"Dimitri, where are we headed?" Aeridar walked to the bow and stood beside him.
"The Eternal Pose Captain Jaron gave points to Alabasta," Dimitri replied, glancing at Aeridar. "So we're following the sa route that passes through Whiskey Peak."
"Alabasta? Whiskey Peak?" Aeridar blinked in surprise. So his voyage was mirroring Luffy's early journey after all.
But that was fine by him—there were people and places along that route he was eager to encounter.
Like the Crocodile of Alabasta. One of the Seven Warlords of the Sea. Aeridar wanted to test the strength of those who bore the title. He'd only seen Crocodile in the ani—never faced him in reality. And if two Warlords had been defeated by a greenhorn like Luffy back then, well... that was quite the dramatic turn.
Aeridar now possessed strength that far exceeded what Luffy had in those early days. Back in Loguetown, he'd been seriously wounded not because of lack of power, but because he hadn't yet gained enough combat experience against true elites. Had he been more seasoned, the outco might have been very different.
And then there was Skypiea—the legendary island of gold. Who would ever say no to treasure? He might as well claim so of it himself. Luffy's crew certainly didn't take all the gold, after all.
Although Aeridar had earned a fortune back on Shiga Island, most of it had gone into building the Chris—his ship. Outfitting it with artillery, munitions, and specialized weaponry wasn't cheap. Many of the massive cannons and siege weapons onboard were black-market items banned by the World Governnt, the Marines, and several major kingdoms. Acquiring them had cost a fortune.
So his remaining funds were already dwindling. Skypiea's gold? That was more than just treasure—it was an opportunity.
The only thing he regretted was that Enel, wielder of the Rumble-Rumble Fruit, wouldn't arrive in Skypiea until two years later—six years before the present storyline. Otherwise, Aeridar would've loved to test his power... maybe even recruit him.
"Mm?" Dimitri tilted his head. "Is sothing wrong?"
"No," Aeridar shook his head with a bright grin. "On the contrary—I've been wanting to cross paths with that sand-croc."
Dimitri raised a brow and chuckled. "In that case, Captain, you'd better get ready."
Aeridar shrugged and stepped up to the railing. He spread his arms wide, gazing out across the sea. With the sun on his face and confidence in his voice, he said, "Of course. I'm here to challenge their thrones—so I need to know exactly how strong they are."
It didn't take long—less than a day, in fact—before the lookout spotted an island on the horizon.
But within that single day, the Chris had already experienced nearly every type of weather imaginable: thunderous storms, snowfall, hail, gale-force winds, and even a sea tornado. The seasons and climate had gone completely haywire.
And as for the island ahead? It was bizarre to say the least. A ring of reddish-brown rock encircled its shore, and towering above the land were two enormous mountains shaped like overstuffed cacti. Between them ran a winding waterway that appeared to lead inland.
Aeridar was intrigued—he knew that Baroque Works had already ford by now, though likely still in its infancy. They were probably understaffed, underpowered, and most importantly, still without Nico Robin. Without Robin managing the organization, Baroque Works wasn't a threat yet.
Whiskey Peak, at this stage, was still just a bounty hunter haven. It hadn't yet been converted into one of Baroque Works' front agencies.
At Aeridar's order, the Chris entered the winding passage.
Perhaps because dusk was falling, the island was shrouded in thick fog. Before long, everyone's clothes began to feel damp.
"Shit, I just changed!" grumbled Arlan, peering through the mist on deck. Scowling, he turned back to change again. While his physique was tough enough to shrug off a cold, wearing soaking wet clothes was just plain uncomfortable.
"This place... it's too quiet," said Oliver, resting a hand on the hilt of his blade, eyes narrowed. He scanned both sides of the canyon warily—but it was no use. The mist was too thick to see anything.
"Man, this fog is dense!" Aeridar scratched his head. He could barely see twenty ters ahead.
Still, with his Observation Haki active, Aeridar could clearly sense figures stationed along the rocks—more than a few. And they'd definitely noticed the Chris entering the passage.
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion echoed not far away.
Alran—now in dry clothes—burst back onto the deck. "What the hell was that!?"
"Can't see clearly! But it looks like there's fire ahead!" soone in the crow's nest shouted back.
"Gorbo, Dimitri—head toward the explosion!" Aeridar commanded, rushing to the bow and peering ahead.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The explosions grew louder and more frequent. As the Chris pressed forward, they began to hear gunfire and shouting. The battle sounded intense.
Aeridar's Haki picked up sothing else too: the sentries posted on the cliffs were fleeing in a panic, retreating deeper into the island.
He suspected it might be pirates who had refused to play along with the bounty hunters' charade—and instead decided to fight back. That wouldn't be surprising at all.
Aeridar ordered everyone to prepare for combat. The ship's cannon crews threw off the covers, and the lower gundeck's hatches were opened, waterproof seals pulled back to ready the heavy artillery.
As they sailed further inward, the fog began to thin. Soon, they saw it—a small town ahead, engulfed in chaos. Gunfire. Cannon fire. Flas licking the rooftops. Curses, screams, battle cries—all clearly audible.
"...That ship. It's definitely a pirate ship," Aeridar muttered as he spotted a vessel moored at a small dock near the town. It was about 50 to 60 ters long, flying a skull-and-crossbones flag—but it wasn't a symbol Aeridar recognized.
The pirate ship's cannons were bombarding the town, but through his spyglass, Aeridar could see that the town square was ard with 7 or 8 cannons of its own—and they were firing back just as fiercely.
Over 200 fighters clashed in the streets. It wasn't a one-sided massacre—there was defense and offense on both sides. Oddly enough, the town's defenders didn't look like innocent civilians at all. They were well-equipped, with enough firepower to match the pirates, even if they were slightly outgunned.
So of those cannons? Modified from naval-grade 18-pounders.
Alran blinked. "What is going on here?"
Sothing felt off.
If pirates were raiding a town, it should've been one-sided. That's how it usually went.
But this ti? The side being attacked didn't look like helpless civilians. Far from it. These people were ard to the teeth—organized, well-equipped, and clearly trained. Their firepower could even match the cannons mounted on the pirate ship, only falling short by a narrow margin.
And those weren't just makeshift guns, either.
Even though the ship's artillery had been retrofitted from standard ground-based armants, so of those cannons were genuine 18-pounders. Serious naval-grade weapons.
This wasn't a typical pirate raid.
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