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98.33% One Piece: Path to Power / Chapter 173: [173] Bound and Unbound

章節 173: [173] Bound and Unbound

[2440 words]

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[Domain of the Gods, Mariejois]

A reasonably tall, dark-haired young marine stood rather stoically. His young face sharply contrasted with his mature expression, though his heart was shaken at this moment.

Standing at the very center of the world, the most heavily guarded place, swarming with defences and a sea of knights.

The Domain of the Gods!

The young marine stood tall before the Celestial Dragon Gate, which was embedded with priceless jewels. His stance resembled that of a loyal dog—something he truly hated.

One voice in the young marine's mind told him to remain standing as he had for the past five hours, while the other told him to abandon everything and fall back.

The Holy Land's air was fresh beyond belief, and its flora and fauna were world-class. Everything yelled luxury and paradise, but the darkness behind the curtain of divinity was ever-damning.

Five hours of waiting had left this thought in the young man's mind, slowly washing away his sense of respect and loyalty to the World Government…

A picture was created in his mind through his Haki, one of the atmospheres many meters below the surface.

A large open area held up by thick pillars. A vast array of slaves, hundreds of them. With sweat, blood and tears covering their faces, they were forced to heave a giant contraption to create an auto-walk that the Celestial Dragons could choose to use to move about their holy land.

A moment of rest meant a sharp pain in one's back as the guards mercilessly whipped them. Food breaks were awarded for ten minutes in the form of literal slop and dirty water. The bathroom was just a hole in the ground at the corner of the cave, with no privacy whatsoever. 

The men pushed the flat escalator while the few women were there to entertain the guards when they so desired.

The desperate wails, the resounding screams and the deafening cries of woe all came together to pound the young marine's mind. They were so loud that they began to break apart the mental defences of the young marine, gnawing away at his sanity and leaving him lost.

'We don't deserve this!'

'Someone, please... If you can't save me, just put me out of my misery!'

'I haven't seen my kids since they were born. Will I ever get the chance!?'

The white marine coat that danced in the cool wind was printed with 'JUSTICE' in bold ink. Yet he now stood lost while hearing the miserable cries of the weak endlessly oppressed by the very Justice he swore to uphold.

Then suddenly, the screaming and despair were washed away from the creaking of the titanic gates before him.

The thick doors opened outwards, shining a ray of light to reveal the majestic Pangaea Castle in the distance, blinding the soldier.

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump* 

Dozens of men in black walked out, their eyes scanning every meter within their eyesight for possible threats. 

They cleared the area and took their position to line up the sides of the path, allowing a giant man to crawl out on his hands and knees. Numb to the world around him, the slave continued his crawl with the explosive around his neck, keeping him in check. After all, a God was riding his back!

The Noble held a chain that clanged on the ground occasionally, slowly pulling a string of three young girls, each moving rather robotically.

.

"Apologies for the short delay," the lead agent concisely informed. "Saint Roswald-sama wished to sleep a little longer."

Naturally, he noticed the broken expression of the young marine and was obliged to warn him in a sharp tone, "You may be one of the Star Rookies of the Navy, but in front of a Saint, you are nothing more than a guard dog."

Roswald, who had begun to put on his helmet before leaving the safety of Mariejois, was even more blunt: "Hmph, I only tolerate you because you are the son of the Marine Hero! He did well protecting us from that evil scum, Rocks; consider it an honour to escort me!"

Naturally, Garp had gone to some lengths to prepare his son:

'Remember, boy. Those freaks up top are as bad and sometimes worse than the pirates out there. But even I can't change that without throwing millions to die in the process of some revolution. Just know this: the Navy is the only thing standing in the way of anarchy. The question is: can you live with that?'

Dragon slowly nodded at the sacred presence before him. Deep down, he knew this was a test from the Five Elders onto Garp, yet it would yield a result the Government would one day regret.

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[A Week Later]

[An Island in the West Blue]

The West Blue was a sea known for its Five Mafia Families, who held an iron-like grip over the proceedings of their waterways.

However, this order was disrupted by a certain young man nearly seven years ago when he killed Gambino Delago and slaughtered his Gambino Family.

The unrest caused all those years ago still plagued the West Blue, the four remaining families clashing head-on often. Yet nowadays, this sea was known for a far grander occasion—where the fateful God Valley Incident took place!

A cheerful man casually lay with his head supported by his interlocked hands. He leaned back into his hammock, breathing in the warm air, hearing the birds squawking about.

The afternoon sun was genuinely spectacular, pounding the man's pores with its juicy Vitamin D. The feeling of being reinvigorated by the graceful sun's rays was addictive.

"Oh, it looks like I missed a lot of big news during my little vacation. Wahahaha!"

A few bundles of newspaper lay on the floor, stacked in a pile. The man parsed through a few of them, looking for the most booming headlines.

"Hmm…"

Many different big bundles of news that could shake the world.

The Navy Headquarters' Demilitarization.

The Advent of Justice.

The Great Escape from Hell.

The Levelled Enies Lobby.

The Ten Omens of Disorder.

He read through the headline, and it brought out a wide grin fit for a pirate. "Wahahahaha! That guy really made it out of that hellhole!"

No one would have thought that a boisterous man enjoying his vacation would be a fearsome pirate worth over 4 billion berries! The striking stubble, confident eyes and thrown-aside saber that could cut islands in half—the man was Gol D. Roger!

However, his attention on the papers was stolen by something more mundane. 

"Oye, Oye, kid! Don't play with that!"

Roger, an infamous pirate, was completely brought to his knees as he saw a young toddler, barely a year old, playing with an everyday straw hat.

The older man gulped, seeing his prized hat being tussled and thrown around by the child's iron-like grip.

Watching the red-haired child gleefully laugh at the occasion left the pirate apprehensive. "Heh, let's see how my special attack goes…" Roger rummaged through his pocket and grinned, bringing out a giant lobster!

He knew the young devil had a strong inkling of lobster, so he always had some in stock.

The pirate tossed the fresh lobster to the side, drawing the eyes of the child like a magnet. "Ooh, aha!" he laughed. 

*Fwooo* The straw hat was thrown away while the toddler rushed toward the seafood, the pirate, to the hat.

"That was a close one…" Roger sighed in relief, squeezing the grip over his prized headwear.

He glared at the giddy child, remembering a conversation:

"You'll be lazy if I don't have you do something. Hmm, I'll let you take care of the lad."

"This little devil, Shanks, why did Rayleigh make me take care of him?" the pirate annoyingly smacked his lips. 

Looking away from the toddler, Roger's gaze lingered on the swaying tides, the usual gleam of mischief in his eyes dimming for a moment. The headlines he'd read replayed in his mind, each one a harbinger of the chaos stirring beneath the surface.

"The seas won't stay this calm for long," he muttered to himself. His fingers brushed against the brim of his hat, a symbol of the freedom he'd carved out for himself.

"But freedom always comes at a cost, doesn't it?" His grin returned, sharper this time, as he turned to the child gleefully chasing the lobster. "Let's see if this new era can handle it."

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While peace found itself into even the Mafia-ridden West Blue, there was currently a rather loud Marine Battleship entering it.

The glamorous Marine banner and flag kept away anyone with ill intent, both Marines and pirates alike. What seemed to be a routine patrol was instead used as a transport by a collection of infamous pirates who, together, could send the Navy Headquarters into a frenzy!

Upon the upper decks stood two: a young child and a young man, a tutor and a student.

Their main similarities lay in their choice of weapons: swords.

*Shing!* *Whizz* *Zhaaaa*

Swift and clean strikes done in practice to perfect the sole usage of a sword: to kill. "You've already learned to damage steel at a young age. It is remarkable," the older one stated.

With dark skin, black markings and a razor-sharp sword at his side, naturally, it was the Indra. He calmly watched as the six-year-old lad went through a sequence of slashes and swings, using metal railings and posts to sharpen his attacks.

*Swish* *Zing*

'His talent with the sword is beyond anything I've ever seen,' Indra thought to himself. 'The discipline in his training is not that of a child.'

The appreciative glance of the renowned pirate was warranted as he watched the young boy, Dracule Mihawk, display skill and efficiency that could not be found elsewhere.

Directly below the upper deck was a large cabin.

One that was used as a mess hall to feed the thousands of marines that could both live and serve off this vessel. 

Yet under the dull light of a few closed windows sat a sole woman, glancing at a snail before her. "How was their response?" the woman questioned. Her voice carried authority as if speaking to a subordinate.

The snail had morphed into the face of a bald man who nowadays was called 'The Voice of the Dead' aka Nekrós, one of the two Hounds of Fulcrum. The man was quick to respond: "Better than expected, Boss! Looks like they realized the true worth of having an Underworld Emperor at their side!" 

Aurora pondered for a while, giving time for Nekrós to elaborate further. "The Styx Passage remains supreme. Though there were rumours of the World Government summoning big-name scientists to find a way of mastering the Sea Kings, even sending an invite to Buckingham Stussy."

The bald snail snorted while providing crucial information: "We lost contact with half a dozen Sea Kings last night, only to return to their destination a day late."

Aurora narrowed her eyes, sending a chill down Nekrós' back: "Let me guess, there was no sign of the World Government's tinkering."

Nekrós, noticing his boss' sharp tone, answered immediately, "That's right! But although the Sea Kings were unharmed, they were quite agitated, even destroying a port."

.

Aurora leaned back, staring at the dark ceiling in thought.

'The fall of the Rocks Pirates and disappearance of Roger has left the Underworld as the remaining obstacles to the peace and order the Government seeks,' she thought. 'It won't be long till their snooping turns violent. Especially with the new Chief of Cipher Pol taking up office.'

The girl's amethyst eyes glistened with a sharp light as she weighed her choices. 'I can't go to Damien for every little problem…'

"Nekrós, alert the other Emperors about the Government's actions; the Styx Passage represents not just my interest but theirs as well."

The young woman peered past the darkness of the room, locking with the transponder snail. "Remain wary; if the World Government keeps acting up, then war might come to our shores." A dull face and battle-hardened face came to mind, one of the new CP-Chief. "Kade is a lot more inquisitive than Xerxes ever was."

"Consider it done, Boss!" "Katcha~!"

A grand kitchen was revealed as the camera panned to the other side of the deeper layer. Healthy tunes and humming resounded in the area made to serve thousands of soldiers, now run by a sole woman: Toki. The good doctor had dived into Marine Specialties found in various cookbooks. That, along with state-of-the-art kitchen technology, had taken up quite a lot of her time.

Beyond the thick walls of the inner cabin area was the primary collection of people. Near the edge was a snoring Solomon and Kuzan. After all, going from the Grand Line to the West Blue came with a somewhat overpowering jet lag.

Working atop one lookout station was Quentin Kraft, the newly reborn shipwright drilling through a few textbooks and diagrams of the shipbuilding technology he had missed in the past twenty or so years of his imprisonment.

Closer to the main mast were two men of striking similarities, father and son.

"Ruhahahaha! You're using their battleship to take the express passage," Ares laughed. Yet his eyes gleamed with a rather cunning light as he asked, "So, why bring a dying old man like me to this small sea?"

Ares' laughter echoed across the deck, but Damien caught the faintest tremor in his father's voice.

"You think I haven't noticed?" Damien asked, his tone quieter now, yet no less piercing.

Ares fell silent, the weight of his son's words settling heavily between them. He glanced at Damien's eyes, so like his own, and saw not accusation but understanding.

>=-=----[]---<>---[]---=-=<

[Einar D. Ares]

[Birth: 66 years ago]

[Fate: A legendary pirate, feared by most, forgotten by all.]

[Death: Within a day.]

>=-=----[]---<>---[]---=-=<

"Ruhahahaha! So I guess this is my goodbye present?"

Damien lightly sighed as a complicated expression appeared on his face. Instead of answering, the young pirate suddenly stood up, feeling a distant landmass.

Ares did the same, though with a more surreal look.

The aged man felt his breathing skyrocket as his eyes fell upon the mass of green on the horizon—a rather nostalgic sight, not just for Ares but even for Damien.

"I've spent over half a decade keeping away from this place to keep the chances of it being connected back to me low." A surge of nostalgia struck the younger pirate's eyes, forcing his heartbeat to spike. "I'm finally back home… Renaissance!"

To Be Continued…

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Author's Corner.

More of a transition chapter between key perspectives. What was meant to be used against Garp ended up doing more to Dragon. Meanwhile, a baby Shanks is being brought up by Roger in the West Blue (canonically, Shanks' home sea). Cipher Pol also has a new Chief who is much sharper than Xerxes. However, that won't stop a particular father-son duo from returning home. 

Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q


next chapter

章節 174: [174] Roots of Redemption

[2180 words]

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It was late evening when the band of pirates arrived at the uncharted island.

*Crunch* His thick boots dug deep into the rich soil, sending out a pulse of energy that rippled through the island, bringing evident joy to the wildlife and greenery.

A lone Damien paused in his steps, standing tall and enjoying the warm air, hearing the singing trees and the dancing flowers. 

Such familiar grass. Such familiar breezes. Such familiar sights. After nearly seven years, Damien had come back home.

A soft sigh escaped the notorious pirate's lips, a reaction shared by Ares to his side, father and son, both heartstruck. The nostalgia from long ago came back in surges.

*Fwoooo* A gentle breeze passed the two, almost as if they were welcomed back home.

"All those years in a cold and decrepit cell… I never thought I could enjoy this simple yet homely island ever again," Ares muttered, even forgetting his impending doom.

Damien absently smiled, feeling the same. 

A mix of the mundane years of his childhood in a peaceful village and then the years he spent all alone on this very island.

As if sensing the young pirate's ambivalence, a soft hand grasped his own. "Damien-san," Toki's cheerful voice beckoned his attention. She smiled at him: "The air here is even purer than that of Wano."

Damien nodded, sensing the thriving nature.

Though at face value, it was overgrown and uncontrollably so, at the same time, the blooming nature brought on its own disastrous beauty. The blessing of the Dryad Fruit and Damien's own affinity had left Renaissance truly reborn out of its ashes from years ago, true to its name. 

Trees that had been reduced to black logs had grown to colossal sizes, giving home to a vast array of species to call their home.

.

"Woah, the vibe here is even more nurturing than from Mortem Island," Kuzan commented, pulling up his eye mask and shaking out of sleep. He ran a hand through a few blades of tall grass, pulling at that: "Jeez. This stuff is tough!"

Mihawk went further, unsheathing his katana and stabbing at a tree.

*Clang!* It was as if he had struck a solid column of dense metal; the shock reflected in his hawk-like eyes as it ran down his arm. "It's tougher than steel…"

Solomon, who had grown up under the forsaken forests of Extinction Valley, was just as surprised. He leaned in to sniff another sturdy tree: "There's no end to the weapons you can make with wood like this. Hell, even the grass is as sturdy as steel wire!"

"I'll say," Kraft said, tracing his hand across the bark of a tree. The shipwright's mind ran through dozens of ideas inspecting the forest: "The wood here is close to rivalling Adam's Oak!"

Eventually, the party made their way through the verdant island. Where the average person would see an endless maze of towering trees, Damien saw nothing but a self-opening path, leading him to the island's real treasure.

[Ten Minutes Later]

And there it was, the wide span of trees forming a mangrove. The spanning leaves allow the ideal amount of rainwater and sunlight to pass through, keeping this treasured area in its most perfect state.

The smell of roses and lavender with rainbows was born from the dripping water under the approaching moonlight.

"Damien… t-this tree…!"

It was the first time the young pirate had heard his father stutter in such a stupor, frozen at the sight of the mangrove.

A mass of trees, vines, flowers, grass, bushes, and shrubs collectively formed the face of a sleeping woman. The arriving moonlight gave the portrait a sacred halo, making it shine.

[Image (in Discord)]

"So mystical," Toki muttered, lost in a trance at the arboreal sight.

"I bet sleeping in this grove would be heaven on earth," murmured the ice-boy.

"The Dryad Fruit that you told us about," Aurora's voice came to Damien's ear. "Is this from it?"

Damien hummed, his eyes still locked on the figure of the sleeping woman.

*Thump* *Thump* *Thump* 

Ares, who had woken up from his fazed state, slowly walked ahead, his shoes gently stepping through the grassy floor.

A scarred hand was placed at the center of the enchanted grove portrait. After a brief pause, the man with the weathered and war-struck face brightly smiled and softly uttered, "Sorry I'm late."

"..."

The tranquil grove seemed to hum with a soft breeze as if embracing the newfound connection. A few spring leaves fell from the arboreal portrait, fluttering their way down to the ground. 

One tearful streak ran down the aged man's face, his single eye wide open and not blinking as if it would disappear if he did.

"!!!" Yet it didn't last long as a bone-rattling pain suddenly spazzed through Ares' body, rippling through his limbs, torso and even skull.

*Thud!*

The man fell to his knees, but with a final burst of strength, he shifted his fall so he could slowly lower himself by slanting against the tree. 

With a grunt, he sat down, sucking in a breath that made his lungs feel as if they were taking in lava. "It's alright," he reassured Toki, who had rushed to alleviate the pain. 

He leaned his head on the tree and addressed them all, "My time is near… there are some things I want to share with my boy."

The weakened words were an obvious way of asking the others to give the father-son duo some space.

Indra looked to Damien and received a nod, taking his leave to the island's edge. 

Most of the others were quick to follow...

"Even a kid like me knows what he's asking. Stop standing there and move on!" Kuzan hissed at the casual Solomon.

"Tch, I know what he meant!"

.

"We'll be fine," Damien finally spoke, asking the girls to leave, too. They looked at him with troubled expressions, knowing full well what was to come. 

Alas, leaving the two alone.

"..."

A breeze whistled through the emptied grove, creating a sharp tune for the two silent men to hear.

"You know, I can feel Nadia's grace all around you… it's almost like she's been with you all along."

Ares looked around after speaking, seeing the vibrant green around Damien's feet. "Ruhahaha! Unlike me, she would never leave you alone, even in death."

Damien blankly looked to the floor, seeing the lively grass and sighed. 

*Thump* *Thump* He walked up, rustling the grass, and sat in front of the waning Ares. The two were now at eye level, a meter apart.

"This is quite familiar," Damien muttered, much to his father's amusement. 

"I sat in front of you back in your cell Impel Down… now we're here, sitting before one another in a place of primal freedom, hehe, how ironic!"

The younger pirate couldn't help but smirk, "Life is full of ironies."

.

Another peaceful silence passed as the father-son duo felt the draft pick up—the sun had set completely.

"I've been thinking, kid," Ares began, his voice hoarse yet steady. "I saw you pluck those Devil Fruits from those insects at Impel Down."

The War God sheepishly smirked, catching his son's narrowed eyes. "If your amazing mother can leave you such a gift," he said, his hand brushing through the lively flowers at his side, "how can I meet her in the afterlife without leaving you something of my own?"

Damien remained silent, allowing the dying pirate the space to unravel his thoughts.

"I've seen the pages of your past fights. That ice-kid is a big fan of yours, Ruhahaha!" Ares' laughter turned into a violent cough, a raw sound that forced blood from his throat. *Ptui!* He spat, clearing his lungs, his bloody grin defiant even against his fading strength.

"All that strength you've built in just a few years…" His smile grew softer, weary but proud. "It's a marvel, but it's also a burden. Your body is being pushed beyond its limits, and while your will can carry you through, it won't keep you standing forever."

Damien's lips tightened. He didn't deny the truth in his father's words. He could feel the echoes of exhaustion in his Haki. His body remained as titanic as ever, but there was mental fatigue born from nearly seven years since he left to a life of little rest and endless battle.

"You mean…" he muttered, his eyes narrowing in question.

"Ruhahaha!" Ares roared the laugh of a man unafraid of the abyss before him. While raising a clenched fist, his single burning eye gleaming, he declared, "That's right. I want you to have it—my War-War Fruit!"

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

"No man can bring down a mountainous force that has existed for over seven centuries." Ares' tone grew sharper, charged with the weight of his own history. "History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, it need not be lived again!"

His voice rose, a final rallying cry echoing through the endless green of Renaissance. "This fruit earned me the name 'God of War!' Take it upon my death and bring the world to its knees!"

Ares' words continued to echo through the island's forests, booming through its endless green. The dangerous words evoked a sharp, hissing gust of wind, leaving Renaissance shivering.

If heard by a commoner, it would undoubtedly leave them frozen, but coming from a pirate that once terrorized the seas would leave them frightened.

"..."

The grove seemed to shiver; the arboreal figure above them basked in moonlight.

Damien's gaze remained fixed, his father's words stirring a storm within him.

He had one Fruit Ability Transfer Token left—the last of the three gifted to him many years ago. He thought of the centuries-old mountain of power that was the World Government, one so stable that even the Rocks Pirates had barely shaken it.

'I alone can't do it either,' Damien thought, the fire in his eyes rekindling. Tales of Ares' relentless campaigns against Navy forces played in his mind. The War-War Fruit's power wasn't just fearsome—it was a weapon capable of reshaping the tides of history.

The dying Ares watched intently as Damien's resolve sharpened, the flicker of fire in his son's eyes mirroring his own from decades ago.

"Ruhahaha! But kid," Ares said, his voice softening, "don't be in such a hurry."

Damien's head tilted slightly, uncertainty flashing across his expression.

"You've been chasing power like a demon for years," Ares continued. "Your body might be fine, but your mind needs a break too." He glanced at the darkening skies, his voice quieting. "Such greed and hunger for strength were my undoing—and I don't want you to share the same fate."

The old pirate leaned back against the tree, tracing its dense bark with a scarred hand. "I've spent decades fighting the world, throwing myself into endless battles. But do you know the one moment I've never forgotten? The one moment that's always stayed with me?"

Damien raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting his father speak.

"It was the month I spent here with your mother. No wars. No blood. Just peace. I wasn't a pirate or a fighter—I was just me."

Ares smiled wistfully, the weight of decades present in his eye. "Every story has an end, boy, and it ain't always a good one. If you're so focused on that end, you'll miss all the beauty along the way."

The weathered hand played idly with a blade of vibrant grass, his gaze now locked on Damien. "You were born into a hellish era, one ripe with clashing egos. Tragedy gave you strength, but it also gave you scars. You've got to carry that ambition carefully—it can guide you, but it can also consume you. It happened to Rocks… he thought he could master it, but in the end, he became its slave."

A soft but cool breeze passed through the grove, carrying Ares' words with it.

"Take your time, kid. See the world. Treasure your crew and those two girls by your side—they're more precious than anything else you'll ever find."

The strength in Ares' body began to fade, his hands falling limp as his breathing slowed. "You've got the blood of the D and mine too. 'Sworn enemy of the Gods'—that's what they call us. But don't let them define you."

His voice grew softer, every word deliberate. "Live freely. Love fiercely. And when the time comes… give hell to those who stand in your way. I wasn't there for your childhood, but I'll be with you beyond my death!"

With one final breath, Ares exhaled, the air carrying his words like a final prayer. A smile lingered on his face—a smile of peace, pride, and relief.

Leave fell from the arboreal portrait, shimmering under the moonlight. They landed gently around the man who had found his peace.

Damien stood in silence, staring at his father's peaceful face. For a moment, the grove was still, the world holding its breath for the passing of a legend.

To Be Continued…

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Author's Corner.

One Piece doesn't have the best fathers *Cough* Dragon, Roger, Yassop *Cough*, and mothers usually get a terrible death (mothers of Ace, Robin, Sanji, Ussop, etc.) This chapter the end to Ares, who has chosen to have his son inherit his legacy in the form of the War-War Fruit. Leaving us with one final chapter to end Part 1 of the fanfic.

Images are available on Discord alongside other niche details: https://discord.gg/aJHHHPvb6q


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